Page 28 of Just My Type
Noah
I love that you do you, no matter where you are.
I inhale sharply, reading that last text over and over again, feeling strangely emotional at his words. I spent a long time being told that the way I was wasn’t the right way to be, and it’s a real kick in the ass to realize that stuck so hard that I’m surprised when someone actually likes who I am. And isn’t that just pathetic. I roll my eyes and type back a response.
Me
By me, you mean the compulsive reader and former writer who now can’t write a coherent chapter to save her life?
Even as I type the words, I realize they aren’t completely true. Because I am writing. Sort of. A little. I’m just not ready to share that with him in case it all goes away again. After the bookstore the other day, when Noah had me tell him the story of the very first romance novel I ever read and list my top twenty favorite books, each of which he bought for himself becauseI want to read what you like to read, I went home and wrote a whole chapter. It’s messy and needs all the editing, but there are words on a page, which is something I haven’t had in months and months.
I’m pretty sure I have this man and his wild idea to hang out with him to thank for it, and I find myself wishing he would hurry the fuck up already and get here.
Best not to think too hard about what that all means.
Noah
By you, I mean the avid reader who has given me more book recommendations than I could ever read in a lifetime and the extraordinarily talented writer whose next book is going to be her best one ever.
Me
I like your version better.
Noah
Stick with me, Han.
Me
What does it say about me that I want to do exactly that?
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Fucking shit.
I definitely didn’t mean to send that. I eye the two empty margarita glasses in front of me warily because those bitches really did me dirty. Two drinks and I’m already saying the quiet part right out loud. The quiet part being that it turns out I think I like Noah Wyles in theI wonder what his lips taste likekind of way. And that is as thrilling to admit to myself as it is inconvenient.
He must think so too because I watch the three dots on our message thread bounce and disappear and bounce and disappear, over and over again, until I think I might perish from anticipation. Then when my phone dings in my hand, I jolt so suddenly that I accidentally kick the table, and four heads swivel in my direction as the mess of drink glasses tip precariously.
“You okay, Hans?” Jo asks, giving me a strange look.
I wave her away. “Totally fine. Um…got a cramp. Yeah, a leg cramp.”
Jesus Christ, Hannah. Be better.
I feel her eyes on me even when I look back down at myphone. I’m sure I’ll have some explaining to do later, but I can’t bring myself to care about that just now.
Noah
It says you’re one of the smart girls.
Uber is pulling up to the hotel. We’re dropping our stuff, and then we’ll meet you. Get ready, Han.
Me
Bless. I was really worried about my caffeine situation for the morning if you weren’t here to bring me coffee.
I’m only half joking about that. Noah has left me an iced latte and a homemade chocolate chip muffin every single morning since the morning after the roof. He makes it seem like it’s no big deal, when in actuality, the fact that he thinks of me and takes the time to do it, even with his insane hospital schedule, makes it the actual best part of my day.
