Page 36 of Glitches and Kisses (The Havenwood #2)

Evan

The next time Noah showed up at The Rivermere Bistro after our trip, it caught me off guard. I had not been here since our first fight. Now he was here, at my job, with Elliott and Jules, looking more relaxed than I’d seen him in months.

It started small.

A glance when I walked past. The slightest smile when I reached over to set down their appetizer, bruschetta with whipped ricotta and honey, Jules’s favorite. He brushed my wrist as if it were an accident.

It wasn’t.

Neither was the way his look lingered a little too long when I stopped to check in on their meal, the slow drink of his whiskey like he was savoring something other than his drink.

Elliott, naturally, was the first to see it. He always had a read on everything.

Jules was the one to actually call him on it, though.

“You’re in a good mood,” he said casually, tilting his wine glass toward Noah with an amused smile while I continued to clear some of the dishes.

Noah barely lifted a shoulder. “The food’s good.”

Jules raised a brow. “Right. The food.”

Elliott chuckled, not even bothering to hide his knowing glance in my direction. I refused to acknowledge it, focusing instead on wiping down the unoccupied table next to them .

The truth was, Noah wasn’t usually present. Normally, he was half-distracted, glancing down at his phone or tapping away at his laptop, his mind clearly miles away even when his body was right in front of you. Work was always buzzing in the back of his head, pulling him away.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was here. Actually here.

And flirty as hell.

“Anything else I can get you?” I asked, fully aware of Noah’s smirk.

“Not at the moment, thanks.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly, waiting for the inevitable request that never came. He just enjoyed his whiskey, letting the moment stretch, his dark eyes holding mine.

When I turned to walk away, he did something unthinkable. Something that sent a low, amused hum of approval from Jules.

He reached out and gently hooked his pinky around mine before I could pass by, just for the briefest second. Just long enough for my pulse to spike.

I pulled my hand away, not because I didn’t like it, but because if I didn’t, I was liable to stay.

Jules and Elliott both saw. They didn’t say anything. They didn’t have to.

By the time they were finishing up, draining the last drops of wine from their glasses, Jules slipped his card onto the check tray. Noah shot him a look, but he just arched an eyebrow like don’t even try it.

I gave a parental look to Noah. Knowingly he said, “Thank you.”

“We’re heading to the Taproom after this,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You should join us when you’re off.”

I felt Noah watching me, warm, expectant.

I tilted my head, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, yeah? You want me there?”

Jules scoffed. “You say that like it’s a question.”

Elliott shook his head, finishing off his whiskey. “Just show up, Mitchell.”

I huffed, but I was smiling. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be there.”

Noah hadn’t said anything, but when I looked at him, I caught the smallest quirk of his lips.

By the time I got to The Rainbow Taproom after my shift, the party was already in full swing.

I didn’t expect Noah to be here yet. Normally, I was the first to arrive, finding our group at the bar and making my rounds before Noah showed up, if he showed at all.

But tonight, the second I stepped inside, I saw him.

He was sitting at our usual booth, drink in hand, looking relaxed.

Not brooding, not glued to his phone, not like he’d been dragged out against his will.

Just here . And was he actually engaging?

Jules and Elliott sat across from him, laughing at something he’d said.

That alone nearly made me trip. Noah got along with them, sure, but out in groups he usually stuck to sarcasm and dry one-liners.

But tonight, he was talking, fully in it, a small smile curling at his lips as he listened to Elliott tell some wild story from work.

“What kind of alternate timeline did I just walk into?” I mumbled under my breath.

“Giiirrrrrrrrlll, I’ve been asking myself that same thing all night,” came a silky voice from beside me.

I turned, already bracing myself, as Maxie draped an arm over my shoulder, her purple sequined dress catching the neon light like a disco ball.

Tonight, she had fully embraced royalty, plum lipstick, violet eyeshadow, and a feathered headpiece that made her look like she was about to ascend to some fabulous drag queen throne.

She gave me a once-over, then sighed dramatically, drinking from her martini glass. “You do realize you’ve broken him, yes?”

I scoffed. “I have not broken him.”

She arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Darling, he’s holding hands in public. With a witness. If that’s not a sign of some cosmic disturbance, I don’t know what is.”

I followed her eyes back toward our table, my stomach doing something weird when I caught the sight of Noah sitting casually between Jules and Sam, his fingers idly around his glass, shoulders relaxed.

Maxie clicked her tongue, hand on her hip. “Finally, sugar, he’s acting like he’s got a pulse and not just a Pinterest board full of emo boy aesthetics.

A startled laugh burst out of me, but before I could respond, Noah motioned for me to join the group.

Jules moved over as I walked over and joined the group.

I sat down and his hand instantly grasped around mine, firm, thumb idly stroking over my knuckles as I sat down.

His touch was unhurried, natural. Not something he was consciously doing, just something that was.

I had to agree with Maxie, a week ago, that would have been unthinkable.

Callie and Sam were deep in conversation with Renzo and Avery, trying to figure out if flamingos could, in fact, fly backwards, while Liam was already double-fisting drinks, locked in a wildly animated debate with Harper over whether ancient Romans actually used powdered mouse brains as toothpaste, something I was certain neither of them actually knew anything about much less understood.

Max was perched on a stool, lazily stirring his cocktail with a straw, watching the whole spectacle unfold with thinly veiled amusement.

It was just another night at The Taproom, except that it wasn’t. Because Noah was here. The Noah I know when we are alone is here now, out with our friends.

I was just about to pull Noah toward the bar for another drink when Maxie appeared. The overhead lighting caught in the rhinestones of her dress, casting tiny rainbows across her décolletage, and I could already feel the mischief radiating off her.

She propped herself against the booth and took a drink from her martini before leveling us with a look that I knew meant trouble.

“Well, well, well.” She bellowed, dragging out the words like she was savoring them. “If it isn’t my favorite brooding tech boy.”

Noah barely offered a glance at her, unimpressed. “I liked it better when you insulted me outright.”

Maxie smiled, slow and predatory. “Oh, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll get there. But first…” She gestured between us with her drink; her acrylic nails sparkled under the lights. “I just want to take a moment to acknowledge this monumental achievement in human evolution.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s not that bad.”

She turned to me, deadpan. “His little asshole’s been clenched so tight I’m shocked it hasn’t formed its own gravitational pull.”

Noah almost choked on his drink, “I’m right here!”

Then back to Noah, smirking. “Yes, I know! Here you are. Touching, smiling, in public like some kind of emotionally available adult? And dare I say… relaxed?”

Noah grumbled into his drink.

I squeezed his hand. “She’s got a point.”

“I hate both of you. ”

Maxie batted her lashes, clearly pleased with herself. “You love me.”

Noah laughed. “That word is doing a lot of heavy lifting right now.”

Maxie teased. “Mmm. I knew you had emotions in there somewhere.” She took a slow sip of her martini, looking him up and down. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Wait a damn minute. What are you wearing?”

Noah barely moved. “Clothes.”

Maxie’s eyes darted to the half-zipped hoodie covering his chest. “Don’t be cute with me, Patel.” She reached out, hand already working at the zipper.

Noah jerked back. “Boundaries, Maxie.”

“Fashion emergencies require intervention.”

Noah sighed deeply, but ultimately, and with great reluctance, unzipped his hoodie, revealing his Real Men Wear Purple t-shirt.

Maxie gasped. Full-body, hand-to-her-chest, pearl clutching gasped. “Hold the fuck up.”

Her eyes narrowed. They bounced between her own head-to-toe violet ensemble and Noah’s shirt. His smug expression as he removed his hoodie was really hot. Then he put his arms around me and Sam in a bizarre display of big dick energy. And the energy at the table shifted.

Liam, Sam, and Callie all turned at the sound, spotting the shirt at the same time. Sam let out an actual nervous cackle.

Maxie leaned in. Slowly. Ready to pounce for the kill.

Her voice was dangerously smooth. “Bitch, are you trying to steal my look?”

Noah took the smallest sip of his drink, completely unfazed and then leaned in. “If I were stealing your look, I’d have shown up tonight in six-inch heels, six pounds of highlighter, and enough contour to restructure my entire lineage.”

The group lost it.

Liam collapsed into the booth. Sam made an actual wheezing noise. Callie clutched at my arm like they’d just witnessed the second coming of Christ.

Maxie just stared.

Noah just stared.

Maxie blinked.

A smile slowly appeared on Noah’s face and then he winked at her .

Then, her face split into the slowest, most wickedly devious grin I had ever seen in my life.

“Oh, you little shit,” she purred, delighted.

Noah lifted a shoulder. “Drag me, mama!”