Page 115 of Just My Type
Jordan lets out a low whistle. “Little brother just dropping truth bombs today.”
“Fuck off.” Cooper punches Jordan in the arm. “I know shit.”
“Then why don’t you have a girl of your own?” Elliot asks, smirking at Cooper.
Cooper rolls his eyes. “Because I choose not to.”
“Okay, but back to me,” I say, loud enough to put a stop to whatever bickering is about to ensue. “You think I should just, like, go home and blurt it out or something?”
Elliot chuckles. “I think you could maybe do a little more than blurt it out but basically? Yes. Just tell her, Noah. You love her. I’m one hundred percent sure she loves you back. And I promise she isn’t going anywhere. This is her home. Tell her, and then you can start the rest of your lives together.”
“I mean, they’re already married,” Jordan snarks. “Isn’t there an argument to be made that the rest of their lives started, like, two months ago?”
“It’s not official until I tell her I love her,” I grumble, staring straight ahead, wondering if my brothers will be able to catch me if I break into a full-on sprint for the last mile home. Before I have the chance to decide, Elliot’s phone buzzes. He grabs it out of his pocket and looks at the screen, smile spreading over his face before shoving his phone back in his pocket and picking up the pace, tossing glances at Jordan and Cooper, who also speed up.
Jogging a couple paces to catch up with them, I slap Elliot on the shoulder. “What the fuck? Now you decide to stop walking like you belong in an old age home?”
Elliot shrugs. “Amelia needs me for something.”
I roll my eyes to avoid losing my shit. “Well, I need Hannah for everything, and you’ve still forced me to literally stroll around Boston for the last four hours like a tourist who has never been here before.”
Elliot just smiles. “It’s for your own good.”
“Trust us,” Cooper says with a toothy grin.
Jordan tosses an arm around my shoulders. “We would never steer you wrong.”
I stop in my tracks, looking at the three of them. “Um, what is going on right now? You’re acting weird.”
“We’re always weird.” Jordan keeps his arm where it is, leading me the last block to the brownstone.
Cece waves from her front stoop where she’s watering plants with Elliot’s dog curled up at her feet. Elliot groans behind me. “Cece, didn’t I tell you not to buy any more plants? You just kill them.”
At Elliot’s voice, Killer shoots up and practically tumbles down the stairs, jumping on Elliot’s legs and bumping her little face into his knee. Cece just smiles. “Oh honey, when have I ever listened to you, or anyone for that matter? And I’ll probably kill them, but isn’t it lucky I have a grandson who is so good at bringing plants back to life? Anyway, hi my babies! Did you have a nice stroll?”
I narrow my eyes are her. “How did you know we were on a stroll?”
“Noah honey, I know everything.”
“If you know everything, maybe you can tell me why my brothers took me out on a four hour walk around the city I’ve lived in for my entire life. They made me walk so slowly I think we actually went backwards at one point.”
She shakes her head and puts her hands on her hips. “Sometimes it’s nice to slow down and take it all in. Boston is so beautiful this time of year. By the way, I think Hannah is waiting for you in her apartment.”
“You mean my apartment?” That’s where I left her when I went out on this ridiculous sojourn. She said she had some writing to do after her call so she would just hang until I got back.
Cece shakes her head. “No, she definitely said hers. I never forget anything.” She gives me a serene smile then goes back to watering her plants, effectively dismissing us.
“Cece, you’re overwatering the plants,” Elliot says with a sigh.
“Don’t be so uptight, El. I’m giving them the exact amount of water they told me they need.”
Elliot sighs, leaning down and scooping up his dog, heading for home. “Call me when they start to die,” he calls back over his shoulder.
“You can be sure I will,” Cece answers, a sly smile on her face that tells me getting a rise out of Elliot was exactly her plan.
“See you later, Cece,” I call, heading home.
“Don’t forget, Noah. Hannah’s apartment,” Cece calls back.
