I spun around and came face to — well, chest — with Noah Matthews. I froze. All broad shoulders and linebacker build, he was leaning against the stone wall like he’d been waiting. His mouth tugged at the corner, not quite a smirk, not quite sympathy.
“Jesus,” I hissed, swiping at the corners of my eyes. “Do you make a habit of lurking around campus eavesdropping on people’s breakdowns?”
He shrugged, casual as hell. “Nah. Just yours, apparently.”
My laugh came out brittle, more a crack than a sound. “Great. Just what I needed — witnesses to my meltdown.”
The lump in my throat thickened. I tried to angle past him, but he shifted, blocking me without being obvious about it.
He looked down at me, his smile quickly changed to a frown of concern. “Oh shit, you’re really going to cry?” He looked panicked. “I don’t do well with crying.”
I laughed despite myself at his unabashed honesty; he grinned sheepishly, and I laughed harder, a few tears spilling over. Oh shit, now I was hysterical.
He looked completely perplexed as he rubbed his hand through his hair. Noah pushed off the wall, his size filling the narrow walkway, but his voice was low, even. “Yikes, I do not do well with emotional women,” he warned as he stepped closer. “Can I help?” he offered, and I don’t know if he intended to be sweet, but I do know neither of us expected me to launch myself at him.
Noah gave great hugs. Maybe it was the fact that he tried to take people’s heads off their shoulders for fun, but the guy knew how to hug. I felt my shoulders drop, and he patted me tentatively on the back as I calmed down.
“You want to talk, or you just gonna keep telling yourself you’re not a girl?”
“Neither,” I said, stepping back. “I... thank you, I really needed that. Um...” I looked away, flushing. “I’m not usually, you know, emotional...”
Noah studied me another beat, then nodded once, like he’d heard everything I hadn’t said. “I get it.” He watched me, quiet and steady. “Doesn’t make you weak, you know. Crying. Or needing a hug. Just means you’re human.”
“God damn it, you’re too hot to be emotionally sensitive too,” I muttered. “You need to come with a warning sign.”
He laughed loudly. “I’m often accused of being emotionally unavailable. Fuck—” he wiped his eyes — “I will officially never understand women.”
We shared a grin, the first real one I’d had all day, and for a second, the weight in my chest didn’t feel so crushing.
“Guess I’ll add hug dispenser to my résumé,” Noah said, shoving his hands in his pockets like the compliment embarrassed him.
“Don’t knock it,” I told him, managing a shaky laugh. “You’re surprisingly good at it.”
He tilted his head, mock serious. “So that’s my reputation now? Linebacker and part-time comfort pillow?”
I snorted. “Could be worse.”
“Yeah?” His grin tugged wider. “Like what?”
“Like emotionally unavailableandbad at hugs.”
That got him, his laugh booming enough that a few students down the path turned to look. He shook his head, muttering, “Shit, Spence is gonna kill me when he finds out you and I were huddled together laughing like idiots.”
The warmth in my cheeks spread all the way to my chest. Mentioning Dante reminded me of why I was so frustrated in the first place. I shifted my bag on my shoulder, suddenly desperate to move before I said something stupid. “Thanks, Noah, really. For the hug. For... not making it weird.”
He gave a small shrug, his expression soft in a way that almost didn’t fit his frame. “Anytime, Savannah. You’re... cooler than most of the people I deal with since I got here. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“Your secret’s safe.”
We fell into step together for a few yards, the silence not nearly as heavy as it had been before. Tentative. Uneasy. But maybe the start of something like friendship.
“He’s pissed off about something,” Noah offered suddenly. “Had a bad practice earlier.” He looked at me from the corner of his eye.
My stomach twisted before I could stop it. “And you’re telling me this why?”
Noah smirked like he’d caught the reaction I didn’t want him to see. “No reason. Just thought you might like the warning. Guy’s wound tighter than a blitz formation these days.”
I rolled my eyes, but my pulse was suddenly racing. “I don’t need a play-by-play of your roommate’s moods, Matthews.”
