Page 11 of Glitches and Kisses (The Havenwood #2)

As the adventure came to an end, our raft scraped against the rocky shoreline, we tumbled out in varying states of exhaustion and exhilaration.

Cold river water dripped from our clothes, soaking into our shoes as we stumbled onto solid ground.

Callie stretched with a dramatic groan, arms overhead.

“I have never been this wet for this long, and I hate it.”

Liam let out a booming laugh, clapping them on the back. “Then you’re rafting wrong.”

I shook out my arms, pushing a hand through my damp hair as I pulled off my life vest. The river had been exactly what I wanted, fast, fun, and just chaotic enough to get everyone’s adrenaline pumping. And judging by the dazed, slightly breathless expressions on my friends’ faces, it had worked.

Everyone including Noah. He was a little slower, fingers fumbling slightly with the straps of his vest, a familiar crease forming between his brows, but there was no real tension in it.

Just Noah being Noah. The kind of focus he gave to everything, even peeling off a life jacket like it was a puzzle he needed to solve.

But he was smiling, relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen often.

His laugh was low and genuine, as he shook water from his hair and muttered something sarcastic about us clearly being “Olympic-level paddlers.” The usual edge in his voice was softer now, more playful than cutting.

He glanced my way, and for a second, I thought I caught something in his eyes, like maybe he was still thinking about the way I’d grabbed his vest, pulled him back, and the way he’d clung to me just as tightly.

But whatever it was, he didn’t dwell on it.

Just let out another laugh and tossed his vest in the designated return bin, shoulders loose, mouth curved in a half-smile that was way too distracting.

I fought back a smile and added mine to the growing pile of gear.

Our overly peppy river guide gave us one final, far-too-cheerful sendoff as we gathered at the trailhead. The dirt path stretched ahead of us, winding back toward the parking lot, sunlight filtering through the trees in warm patches.

Sam adjusted his backpack and cast a smug glance at Liam. “Race you back to the car?”

Liam snorted, rolling his shoulders. “You do realize I have at least thirty pounds on you, right?”

Callie groaned, already trudging ahead. “If you two are going to run, do it where I don’t have to witness it.”

I chuckled, shaking my head as the group started moving, voices still buzzing with leftover energy from the river.

And beside me, a little closer than necessary, was Noah.

Still quiet. Still holding that careful edge like he didn’t fully trust the ease between us.

But he wasn’t walking ahead.

Wasn’t putting space between us.

And I let myself enjoy that, however small it was. It felt like something.

The hike back to the cars was lively, full of laughter and retellings of near misses on the water. Our group moved together in a loose rhythm, wet clothes clinging to skin, hair dripping onto sun-warmed shoulders, voices bright with post-adventure adrenaline .

Liam laughed and shook his head as he clapped Sam on the back. “That last rapid? Nearly baptized us all. I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

Sam snorted, shoving him lightly. “You were laughing the whole time.”

“Laughing in the face of danger,” Liam corrected, smiling wider. “Very heroic of me.”

Callie, still wringing water from their shirt, sighed dramatically. “I think I swallowed half the river. If I grow gills, I’m suing.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Admit it, though. It was fun.”

Callie paused, then reluctantly nodded. “Fine. It was decently fun.”

Noah, walking just beside me, let out a quiet huff that was suspiciously close to amusement.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye as we walked. I expected a scowl, expected some sarcastic remark about how he had nearly died, about how I was never convincing him to do this again.

Instead?

He just shook his head, a huff escaped him, not quite a sigh, not quite laughter. His arm twitched slightly at his sides, like they still remembered my grip on him, holding him steady.

Like maybe… he didn’t mind remembering.

Ahead of us, Liam started humming some ridiculous, overly dramatic movie score, and within seconds, Sam and Callie had joined in, turning the walk into a full-blown, off-key orchestral production.

Noah let out a real laugh, quiet but undeniably there, before shoving his wet hair back and rolling his eyes. “I hate all of you.”

“Liar,” I said, just loud enough for him to hear.

He shot me a half-hearted but playful glare .

And then, he did something uncharacteristically reckless. He bumped his shoulder against mine as we walked. Not hard. Not accidental. Just a brief, passing touch that lingered a second longer than necessary.

I grinned, warmth curling low in my stomach.

Maybe he was losing the battle.

Or maybe, just maybe, he had stopped fighting it altogether.

Liam’s SUV was already warm from the sun by the time we piled in, all damp clothes, windblown hair, and post-adrenaline laughter.

Sam called shotgun without hesitation, leaving the rest of us to clamber into the back.

Callie climbed in first, claiming the seat behind Liam with a dramatic groan and immediately pulling out a bag of sandwiches like some magical, over-prepared picnic fairy.

“Turkey, veggie, ham. Don’t even think about complaining, I’m a hero,” they declared, passing them out along with chilled bottles of water from a cooler I didn’t even realize they’d brought.

Liam fired up the engine and grinned like a man with a plan. “Alright, babes, buckle up. It’s time for the Rafting Revival Road Show .” He pressed play on his phone, and the opening chords of “Proud Mary” burst through the speakers.

What followed could only be described as beautiful chaos.

By the time “It’s Raining Men” hit, Callie had fully revived, belting the lyrics into their water bottle like a mic, Sam was dramatically rolling the window down to sing out into the passing trees, and Liam was dancing in his seat with both hands on the wheel, barely.

“Let’s Have a Kiki” had us all shouting the chorus like a queer sermon, and when “Vogue” dropped, Callie made us strike poses between bites of sandwich, commanding, “Give me face, Noah!”

And Noah? God, Noah was smiling. Really smiling.

His hair was still wet, and his shirt clung to him in all the right places, but none of that mattered as much as the way his laugh tumbled out so naturally.

And Noah served face! He vogued as much as the tight back seat would let him.

He leaned back against the seat, leg pressed firmly against mine. Not by accident. Not this time.

Liam, still riding the high of the day, turned the music down just enough to shout, “Okay, but tell me that didn’t make you want to go camping this summer. Just imagine, under the trees, river nearby, fire pit going, unplugged for a few days. I’m so ready!”

“You lost me at camping,” Callie said immediately, swatting his arm from the back seat. “Nature is cute from a distance. I don’t do tents, bugs, or sleeping on the ground like some raccoon.”

Sam leaned forward from the passenger seat. “I’m totally down. S’mores? Stars? Half-naked guys in hammocks? Yes, please.”

I chuckled. “I mean, I could be persuaded. If there’s electricity. And Wi-Fi. And maybe a mattress involved.”

Noah nodded beside me, a smile tugging at his lips. “Glamping. With a real bed. And an espresso machine. Maybe.”

Liam peered into the rearview mirror. “Y’all are soft, but you’re in luck. There’s this gay campground I go to every year. It’s clothing optional, there’s a hot tub and a pool, and they do drag bingo on Saturdays. Absolute blast. You’d love it.”

Callie groaned. “That sounds like my nightmare and my dream at the same time. ”

“I’ll pack sequins and bug spray,” Sam said with glee.

Noah just glanced over at me, brow raised slightly, like he was waiting to see how I’d react.

I shrugged, smiling. “I’d consider it. For research purposes.”

Noah laughed and looked out the window, his leg still pressed against mine. “I just hope there are no serpents involved,” he said.

Liam barked a laugh. “Serpents? What is this, biblical camping?”

“You know,” Noah said with all the seriousness in the world, “snakes. Lizards. Anything with scales and questionable motives.”

I chuckled. “Lizards aren’t serpents.”

Noah turned to me, his expression completely deadpan as he met my eyes and said, “Lizards are just snakes with legs.”

That earned a full round of laughter from everyone in the car, Callie nearly wheezing into their sandwich while Sam wiped tears from the corners of his eyes.

I looked over at Noah, and he was still smiling, eyes bright. And yeah… I was in trouble.

Somewhere between “River Deep, Mountain High” and “Pink Pony Club,” Noah’s hand shifted, casual at first, brushing lightly against my leg as he reached to rest his palm on his own thigh.

But then… his pinky began to move. Just the smallest, lazy back-and-forth stroke along the edge of my swim trunks. Subtle. Deliberate.

A flush of heat crawled up my spine and landed low in my crotch.

I stayed still, too aware of my body and how very grateful I was to be seated.

The music played on. Callie’s voice rising as Left Eye’s rap in “P ” hit, but my attention had tunneled.

Just the rhythm of his pinky, the warmth of his leg, the brush of his skin through denim.

I turned my head, slow, unsure what I’d find.

And there he was.

Looking at me.

Eyes soft, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

I couldn’t help it. I smiled back. Something quiet, content. I didn’t say a word.

I just let myself feel it.

Let myself enjoy this moment.