Page 7 of Just My Type
“Is it though?” Cooper asks, grabbing a chip from my plate and dragging it through the guacamole. “She’s been here for months, and she hasn’t said anything about leaving.”
“I mean, she still has a boyfriend at home,” I grumble. Jordan is suddenly very interested in what he’s doing, studying his margarita ingredients like they hold the secrets to the universe, and Elliot reaches for his empty beer bottle, pretending to take a sip. I guess he’s hoping I don’t notice, but joke’s on him because I notice everything.
“What do you know?” I demand, gaze bouncing between the two of them long enough that I see the look they exchange.
“Nothing,” Elliot says casually, setting the empty beer bottle back on the table.
“Uh, that was definitely not nothing.” Cooper glances at Elliot and Jordan, curiosity painted all over his face. “If subtle is what you two are going for, your routine needs some work.”
“What he said.” I point at Cooper, leveling a glare at my older brothers.
Jordan shrugs. “It’s not ours to tell. You don’t get to know everything.”
I roll my eyes. “I always know everything.”
Elliot laughs, ruffling my hair like I’m a little boy trying to sit at the big kids’ table. “You just think you know everything. The amount of things you don’t know could sink a ship.”
I scowl, shoving his hand away. “You know, the two of youfound girls and fell in love and shit, and it’s like we’re not even brothers anymore. Where’s the loyalty?”
In actuality, I’m thrilled for Jordan and Elliot, and I love seeing them so happy. Jo and Amelia are the coolest girls in the world, and having them around is a blast. But it’s my duty as a younger brother to give my older brothers shit whenever possible, and I take that duty very seriously.
Also, let’s be honest. If there’s something they know, I need to know it too.
Elliot drapes his arms over the back of the sofa, leaning back and grinning lazily like he’s king of the world or something. “I mean, my loyalty is to my girl, but I guess I can reserve some of it for you.”
“How magnanimous of you,” I drawl, eating my last chip and handing him the empty plate. Instead of taking it, he gives me a bland stare.
“You’re kidding, right?”
I grin at him. “Just wanted to see if you would take it.”
He rolls his eyes but gives me an amused smirk. “You know Mom would kill you for making someone else deal with your dirty dishes.”
I snort out a laugh because he isn’t wrong. One thing about Pam Wyles is that she raised self-sufficient men, and she is very, very proud of that fact. “Let’s not tell her I asked. Is she coming to dinner?”
Elliot’s tiny dog, Killer, comes bounding over, and Elliot bends, scooping her up and letting her curl into his lap. I swear he loves that dog more than he loves some people. “Nah, she and Dad were at some barbecue with friends today. She said she was entirely peopled out and was spending the night with a book, talking to absolutely no one. But she has requested that Saturday dinner next week be at her house, because by then she’ll be feeling family withdrawal.”
I laugh because that kind of contradiction perfectly explains my mom. “Sounds about right.”
Pushing up to stand, I head to the kitchen and stick my plate in the sink. I’m about to walk away before my conscience gets the better of me and I turn on the faucet to wash it. I’m just flipping off the water and turning with the wet plate in my hand when the apartment door opens. Elliot’s apartment is an open concept, so I can see the girls as they walk in. Jo heads straight to Jordan, grinning at him when he bends to kiss her and hands her a margarita. Amelia plops herself down in Elliot’s lap, and he kisses her like it’s been weeks, instead of less than an hour, since he saw her last.
And then Hannah walks in.
She freezes just inside the open doorway, looking around the way she always does when she walks into a room filled with my family. Her expression is the mixture of bewilderment and longing that I see on her face a lot, like she’s not quite sure what to do with herself but wishes she did. Almost like she’s checking to see if she belongs, waiting for someone to tell her to come in and stay a while.
I wish she would stay a while. Forever, maybe, minus the asshole boyfriend, so I could start to work out my feelings for her. Because Elliot wasn’t wrong before. I definitely feel some kind of way about Hannah Evans.
She’s been stuck in my head for three years, and I have no interest in getting her out.
I’m just about to open my mouth when her eyes meet mine. I catalogue the familiar shimmer of attraction when I lock on to her gorgeous greens, but when I see that her eyes are slightly red-rimmed, her cheeks a little blotchy like she’s been crying, that attraction mixes with concern.
Setting the plate down on the counter, I head straight for Hannah, my gaze never leaving hers. Her eyes widen slightly, like she knows exactly what I’m seeing, but before she can say anything, I’m at her side, tossing an arm around her shoulders. There’s a little buzz of electricity the second my body touches hers, and I know she feels it, too, because she jolts slightly, and Idon’t know why, but for some reason that just entirely delights me.
“Hey there, Han. So glad you could make it to our little Saturday night get together. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“I’m sure you would have managed,” she mumbles, scowling at me. For some reason, she doesn’t shove my arm off her shoulders the way she usually does, and that delights me too.
“Never,” Jo says, handing Hannah a margarita and following Jordan to a chair. He pulls her into his lap and wraps an arm around her waist, tugging her back against him. Their ease together is really beautiful. It makes me wish, just a little, for that kind of ease with someone. A partner. Who am I even kidding? With Hannah. I want that kind of ease with Hannah, which mostly just sucks since she has a boyfriend, and she doesn’t seem to want that kind of ease with me.
