Page 28 of Glitches and Kisses (The Havenwood #2)

Evan

The Rainbow Taproom was alive tonight. Electric.

The music thumped through the walls and floor, the bass turning the dance floor into something that felt alive.

Bodies swayed together in the heat, all sweat, rhythm, tangled limbs, and flashing smiles.

It felt like a scene out of Queer as Folk .

This is our Babylon. Wild, free, and unforgettable.

God, I love that show. I mean, I was only a toddler when it was on, but the reruns?

The reruns were everything to this queer kid.

Like a window into a world I didn’t even know I was allowed to want yet.

The club scenes were legendary. Half sex, half religious experience, all decadence.

That world doesn’t really exist anymore.

Not in the same way. But tonight? Tonight, this was the closest I could get.

The first night of Pride was exploding all over the Taproom, a kaleidoscope of neon casting rainbow streaks over the bar, flags draped from the rafters, glitter shimmering in the air like confetti from the bodies already moving on the dance floor.

Maxie Glam had declared the theme for the night Glitter and Sin, and from the way sequins, crop tops, and unapologetic joy filled every inch of the room, no one was holding back.

I needed the energy that made you feel something, even when you were trying your damnedest not to.

The deep pulse of the bass throbbed in the air settling inside me.

People were shouting, laughing, toasting drinks, their faces flushed with celebration, with community, with the kind of reckless happiness that only came from knowing you were surrounded by your people.

I needed the music, the people, the chaos of it all, anything to pull my brain away from Noah and the mess he’d left behind.

The last thing I wanted tonight was to think about him, his quick wit, his dry humor, the way he kissed me like he was memorizing the feel of me against him. Shit, Evan! STOP!

I needed this.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

Callie had practically dragged me out of the apartment, swearing that a night with them, Sam, and Liam at the Taproom was exactly what I needed to get my head straight.

“Hot people, strong drinks, and questionable life choices,” Callie had declared as we stepped through the doors. “It’s a foolproof remedy.”

And honestly? They weren’t wrong.

But even now, as I nursed my whiskey sour at the bar, listening to Sam and Liam argue over some ridiculous theory about which Disney prince was the worst kisser, my mind wasn’t really here.

It was still with Noah.

“No way,” Sam said, pointing at Callie with the kind of conviction that came after two gin and tonics. “Aladdin is, without question, the worst kisser of the Disney princes.”

Callie groaned. “First of all, bold stance. Second, I need evidence.”

“He literally kisses one person his entire life. One. And it’s after lying to her about literally everything. That’s not the foundation of a good kisser.”

Ezra, Havenwood’s resident auto mechanic with a talent for dry one-liners and an Old Fashioned always in hand, leaned into the conversation. “Okay, but counterpoint, Prince Eric.”

Callie gasped. “Oh, shit. You’re right. That guy needed a literal magical voice connection to be interested in a woman. And even then, he almost married a fucking sea witch.”

Liam nodded solemnly. “That’s what I’m saying.”

I laughed, shaking my head as Renzo, the inked-up straight guy of the group, and Harper, his therapist best friend with a resting calm face, returned from the bar with a fresh round of drinks.

“Tess and Avery went to find Max,” Renzo said, handing me a fresh whiskey sour. “Said he got caught in some tragic conversation with a guy who’s really into NFT art. ”

Tess, the elementary school teacher with a soft spot for reality TV and sourdough starters, probably led the charge.

Avery, gentle, grounded, and always looking out for everyone, would’ve followed right behind, ready to mediate.

Max, Havenwood’s resident wedding planner and king of tasteful chaos, clearly needed rescuing.

The four of them, Ezra included, were basically inseparable. The Four Amigos in action.

Harper shuddered. “God, free him.”

“I give Max three minutes before he either fakes a family emergency or commits a felony,” I said.

Renzo clinked his glass against mine. “Five bucks says he actually buys one just to end the conversation.”

“Oh, I’ll take that bet,” Ezra said, leaning in with an evil grin.

I laughed, warmth settling into my chest as I let the conversation happen around me. Then I glanced at Renzo, playful curiosity getting the better of me. “Where’s your date du jour tonight? Didn’t think I’d see you out solo.”

Renzo shrugged, casual but honest. “Not a date anymore. We decided to part ways.”

Harper smirked, tilting his head. “Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly pretty and considering she wasn’t exactly your usual type, I’m dying for the full story. Details had better be coming soon.”

Renzo rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “It’s Pride month anyway. I should be celebrating with all my queer friends. I’m all yours this month, babe.”

And before I could say anything, he leaned in and planted a big kiss right on my cheek.

The people around us cheered, lifting their drinks, someone shouting, “That’s the spirit!”

I laughed, cheeks warm, the noise and light of the Taproom buzzing all around me.

Despite the welcome distraction, no matter how many drinks I had, no matter how many people flirted with me, my thoughts kept circling back to Noah.

And apparently, I wasn’t being subtle.

Maxie slid onto the barstool beside me with the kind of effortless glamour only she could pull off. Emerald sequins clung to her curves, catching the neon light with every movement. Her platinum curls were piled high, red lipstick bold enough to stop traffic, and her gaze? Piercing.

She held her martini like royalty, giving me a once-over .

“Darling,” she drawled, swirling her olive, “your Eeyore energy is killing my bar sales.”

“What?”

She waved a manicured hand toward the room. “You’ve got the energy of a wet tissue, sugar, and it’s turning customers away.”

“…Less people at the bar?”

She continued, resting her elbow on the bar. “The drunker they are, the better I look, and the more they tip. It’s the natural order of things.”

I laughed hard at Maxie’s no-holds-barred wit.

Maxie tilted her head. “But let’s be real, sweetheart. This isn’t your usual fabulous self.” She tapped a single nail against my chest. “You’re here, but your mind? Still tangled up with someone who doesn’t know what to do with his own feelings or his dick.”

I scowled. “Maxie.”

She smiled. “Oh, I’m right, and you hate it.”

“He knows what to do with his dick.” I declared, tipping my drink back.

Maxie just chuckled, swirling the olive in her glass. “I stand corrected.”

I shook my head, managing a small, tired smile. “We’re not together anymore, Maxie.”

She tilted her head, eyes softening just a touch as she reached out and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Oh, sweet boy… I’m so sorry.”

Before I could respond, Callie grabbed my wrist, effectively saving me. “Enough moping. Dance floor. Now.”

I hesitated.

Maxie arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Oh, honey, go have some fun. If you’re going to be miserable, at least make it look good.”

I let Callie drag me toward the crowd.

The beat slid under my skin as we pressed into the crowd, the air thick with warmth and movement. Callie twirled dramatically before peeling off toward Renzo, who took a break from flirting with the straight women at the bar, who already slipped into the music like it belonged to him.

And then, a tall, broad-shouldered guy turned toward me.

Golden-brown curls, soft hazel eyes, a confidence that was present but not overbearing. His smile was effortless, his dancing joyful, casual but joyful.

I didn’t think much of it at first.

Then he moved closer .

The warmth of him ghosted along my skin, and my stomach dipped.

And then, Liam appeared, beaming as he slid between us, hands resting on both our shoulders.

“Evan,” he said, voice pitched just loud enough to be heard over the music, “meet Jordan. Jordan, meet Evan.”

Jordan, of course his name was Jordan, laughed, the sound low and warm, and I suddenly became very aware of how close we all were.

“Hey,” he said smiling, voice barely over the music.

I hesitated.

I didn’t realize when Liam had seamlessly moved his hands to Jordan’s and my hips, pushing me toward this very cute, very willing man.

“I was just about to steal him,” Jordan said, teasing.

Liam grinned. “You should.”

But then… then he touched me. Just a hand on my hip replacing Liam’s hand, light, waiting for permission.

And then, just like that, Liam slipped away, disappearing into the crowd like he’d done his good deed for the night.

I turned back to Jordan, who raised a brow. “So? Are you gonna let me?”

I bit my lip, pulse pounding.

And then I let him.

I let him pull me closer, let my hands rest on his shoulders, let myself move with him, really move with him.

I let my body move, let the music slide between us, let the tension pull tighter.

For the first time in weeks, I let myself get lost in it.

I let myself want.