Page 37 of Glitches and Kisses (The Havenwood #2)

Maxie howled, letting out an absolutely delighted laugh. She then lunged, grabbing Noah’s face with force and planting a deep, lipstick-stamped kiss against his cheek, leaving a perfect, bold violet stain in her wake.

She leaned back with a smirk, admiring her work. “This isn’t over, nerd! You may have won this battle, Patel, but mark my words, this war? Belongs to me. I’ll get you my pretty…”

And the whole table replied in unison, “...and your little dog too!”

Then she strutted off, tossing her curls like the queen she was.

Everyone laughed! Noah just let out a breath he had been holding. Not knowing how Maxie would take that.

Sam exclaimed. “Holy shit. You won that round.”

Liam shook his head. “I didn’t know it was possible to win against Maxie.”

Callie, already enjoying their drink, shook their head. “Oh, she’s gonna come back with a vengeance next time.”

I turned to Noah, eyes full of admiration. “I don’t think I have ever been more attracted to you. To anyone. Ever. You are a fucking stud.”

Noah blushed and smiled as he put his hoodie back on. “Drink your damn whiskey, Mitchell.”

Sam, still crying, clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the fucking circus, Patel. I don’t know what happened to you in Seattle, but I’m obsessed.”

Liam just shook his head, somewhere between awe and genuine terror.

I turned to Noah, my pulse buzzing with something warm, something completely feral.

“Patel,” I said, voice thick with admiration, “you are the biggest fucking menace I have ever met.”

Noah zipped his hoodie back up with a smirk. “And yet,” he said, savoring his whiskey, “you love it.”

And honestly? He wasn’t wrong. I definitely loved that everyone is getting to experience this version of Noah Patel.

Callie, sensing an opening, grabbed my wrist. “Come dance with me. ”

I hesitated, lifting my glass. “I was gonna grab another drink first.”

Before Callie could argue, Noah lifted his head and said, “I’ll go with you.”

I choked on my drink.

So did Sam.

And Liam.

Jules and Elliott, the observant little shits, just exchanged amused glances.

Noah blinked at us like we were the ones being weird, but there was no denying the stunned silence at the table.

Callie, bless their soul, was smart enough not to question it. They just grabbed Noah’s hand and dragged him toward the dance floor before he could change his mind.

Which left me standing there, open-mouthed, watching my previously anti-social, intimacy-avoidant, loathes-unstructured-socializing situationship willingly go dance with one of our friends.

Sam was the first to recover. “Did Noah Patel just…”

“What the fuck just happened?” Liam cut in.

“No clue.” Sam shook his head, his expression dazed. “But I’m witnessing it, and I still don’t believe it.”

Because whatever was happening? I was very into it.

I had barely recovered from watching that happen when I turned back from the bar, drink in hand, only to find the two of them in the middle of the floor. Noah was dancing. Noah Patel was now dancing with Callie. Actually dancing.

To be fair, Callie was mostly leading, their smile wide as they pulled him along to the music, and Noah, though clearly out of his element, was letting himself go with it.

His movements were a little stiff, but not uncomfortable.

Not forced. The way his eyes darted toward me, heated, teasing, a little cocky, nearly knocked the breath out of my lungs. “What the fuck?” I exclaimed.

Liam, still reeling, nudged Sam. “Do you see this? Are we in the right dimension?”

“I…” Sam started, then just shook his head, taking a deep swig of his drink. “We have no choice but to respect it.”

I didn’t waste any more time.

I was on that dance floor in seconds, weaving through bodies until I reached them. Noah caught my eye, just barely, before Callie spun away, leaving him open.

And, well. I took my shot .

I grabbed Noah’s hand and yanked him toward me, laughing as he stumbled slightly before catching his balance. He rolled his eyes, but the biggest smile pulled at his lips.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I stepped up beside him, still a little disoriented by the fact of Noah Patel on a dance floor.

He burst out laughing. “I’m dancing.”

Callie snickered. “And doing a damn fine job of it.”

So, naturally, I stepped closer, because if he was going to surprise the hell out of me tonight, I might as well enjoy it.

“Showing off?” I joked.

“Absolutely not,” he deadpanned.

The music shifted to something slower, bass-heavy; the kind of song that made the room hum with heat and movement. Noah’s hands found my hips, strong and confident, pulling me closer without hesitation. His cock grinding into mine through our pants.

I leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “Are you planning on shocking me all night?”

His hand flexed against me, a subtle squeeze. “Maybe.”

Callie grabbed my hand now, looping us all together in a ridiculous kind of rhythm, laughter bubbling from them as we moved to the beat.

And then, like a domino effect, the rest of the group started pouring onto the floor.

Liam and Sam shoved through the crowd, Sam immediately stealing Callie for a spin, Liam pressing up behind me to make it a whole thing. Jules and Elliott, having watched from afar, finally joined in, clapping along to the music as they swayed with the rhythm.

Avery and Renzo? Already there, making it their personal mission to get everyone in sync. Harper and Tess linked hands, spinning in a circle. Max dragged Ezra in by the wrist, the two of them throwing dramatic hair flips to the beat.

Before I knew it, we had formed an entire group, one giant mess of bodies moving together, laughing, shouting lyrics to “We Are Family”, spinning into each other, bumping hips, feeding off the high of it all.

And in the middle of all of it, Noah.

Still holding my hand. Still here. Still mine.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like everything in my world was exactly where it was supposed to be.

The Taproom was closing, the last of the stragglers trickling out onto the quiet streets, laughter and lingering goodbyes filling the mid-summer night air.

Our group poured out in a messy, happy cluster, Callie slinging an arm around Sam, Jules giving Elliott shit about something he said earlier, Liam dramatically declaring his love for whoever had made his last drink.

And Maxie?

Maxie stood at the entrance like a Grande fucking Dame, one perfectly manicured hand resting on her hip, the other raised in a slow, queenly wave as her loyal subjects exited her palace for the night.

Noah and I were the last to step through the door.

He hesitated, just for a moment, before turning to face her with her purple lip print still on his cheek.

Maxie’s stare tightened, focused and unblinking, like she could see through the silence.

“Maxie…” Noah drawled, voice smooth, just a hint of teasing.

A pause.

A stare-off.

The kind of silent, drawn-out moment that made every single one of our friends stop in their tracks on the sidewalk.

Then, finally, Noah tilted his head, a slow smirk curling the edge of his lips.

“You are beautiful,” he said. Then, with a pointed glance at his Real Men Wear Purple t-shirt, he added, “I guess real men do wear purple.”

Maxie took him in. Measured. Calculated. Presenting herself in all her purple glory she said, “You bet your sweet gay ass they do.”

Before anyone could react, Noah leaned in and planted a big kiss on Maxie’s lips.

The crowd outside watching this unfold erupted. Cheers, laughter, exaggerated gasps of shock. Sam actually howled, and Liam dramatically clutched his chest like he’d been struck. Jules and Elliott whistled, and Callie was laughing so hard they had to bend over to catch their breath.

Maxie, to her credit, recovered flawlessly .

She pulled back, appraised Noah with something akin to amusement, and then, in the most delicate, queenly way possible, she dabbed each side of her lips with one perfectly manicured finger.

“Not bad, Patel,” she mused. Then, with a wicked smirk, “But don’t get cocky. You still have so much to learn.”

Noah grinned. “I’m a fast learner.”

Maxie cackled. “Oh, I like you.”

The group finally spilled onto the sidewalk, laughter still bubbling in the air as we all broke off into different directions.

Callie and Sam veered toward their places, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, still giggling over whatever the hell had just happened.

Jules and Elliott headed toward their car, Jules shooting me a knowing look before throwing an arm around Elliott’s waist.

Liam, bless his drunk, burly heart, saluted us before dramatically disappearing down the street.

And then, finally, Noah and I were alone.

The night air was warm. A welcome breeze slipped through the quiet streets.

Noah tied his hoodie around his waist, leaving his Real Men Wear Purple t-shirt on full display.

I couldn’t stop looking at him.

He caught me staring and threw his arms out. “What?”

I shook my head, biting back a laugh. “Nothing. Just admiring your fashion choices.”

He glanced down at himself, then back at me, unimpressed. “Maxie said she was proud of me for embracing color.”

I snorted. “Oh?”

Noah’s smirk turned downright wicked. “I told her I had to wear it. Whoever controls the purple controls the world.”

I cackled, stopping right in the middle of the sidewalk. “No, you did not.”

“Oh, I did,” he said, smug.

I threw my head back, laughing as we kept walking, my hand brushing his every few steps.

And then, right before we reached my building, Noah slowed.

His fingers brushed mine once. Twice. Then around them in a firm grip.

“I, uh…” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I have a trip to San Francisco next week. It’s a big tech conference.”

I arched a brow, my heart knocking against my ribs. “Yeah? ”

His thumb rubbed absently along the side of my hand, his grip tightening.

“Come with me,” he said.

I studied him, taking in the way his look was steady. The way his mouth pressed into a firm, determined line. His lips twitched. “As someone important,” he said.

My stomach flipped. My chest flipped.

I let the words hang in the space, the weight of them, the meaning, the choice he was making in saying them out loud.

I squeezed his hand, stepping in a little closer, so that his warmth pressed against mine. “So… am I officially your hot tech-boy arm candy?”

Noah smiled, a big smile, tilting his head slightly. “Absolutely.”

I leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against his lips, feeling the way his body softened into it, the warmth of his breath against my skin.

“Okay,” I breathed against his mouth, my grip lacing through his. “I’ll go.”