Page 46 of Glitches and Kisses (The Havenwood #2)

Evan

A year ago, if someone told me I’d be here building a life in Havenwood, in love with Noah Patel, surrounded by people who felt more like family than friends, I wouldn’t have believed them. But now? Now I couldn’t imagine my life any other way.

The Rainbow Taproom was packed and buzzing, louder and brighter than a typical Friday night.

The place brimmed with the Havenwood crew and a few familiar faces from the community.

Laughter rose over the thumping pop beat, drinks clinked, chairs scraped, and Maxie had already made three dramatic costume changes.

Tonight wasn’t just a party. It was a send-off. A celebration. A goodbye and a beginning all at once.

Max was moving to New York to work for a high-profile event planning firm that catered to celebrities, political fundraisers, and billionaires with too much money and not enough taste. Of course, Max was already planning to elevate them. “They’re going to be blessed by my brilliance,” he declared.

Ezra and Avery, after literal years of mutual pining, late-night longing glances, and the kind of unresolved tension that had driven the rest of us mad, had finally gotten together.

Like, officially. They were moving to Charlotte to be closer to Avery’s family and start fresh, together.

Ezra had accepted a teaching position at a trade school teaching auto mechanics, and Avery was planning on opening a coffee shop near their new condo in a quaint growing arts district .

And Tess? Tess had gotten into grad school, a fully funded doctoral program in education out in Arizona.

They screamed when they got the acceptance email.

I mean really screamed, then promptly burst into tears on the Taproom patio with all of us surrounding them like confused, but proud, emotional bodyguards.

So yeah. Tonight was huge.

I stood near the back bar, drink in hand, watching it all unfold.

The room was alive with movement, hugs, photo ops, and impromptu drag performances from Maxie (her third of the night, because of course it was).

Renzo and Harper were huddled near the DJ booth, shamelessly bugging the DJ with request after request, high fiving every time one of their songs made the cut.

Liam, bless him, had stationed himself near the bar and taken it upon himself to make sure no one’s glass was ever empty, ordering and serving shots and drinks like a man on a mission to keep everyone buzzed and loose.

Jules wandered by, holding two glasses of wine and handing one to Elliott who was chatting about his student teacher this semester.

Jules interrupted with a teasing nudge as he leaned in for only the three of us to hear, “I feel like I barely got to know these people and now they are moving out of Havenwood.”

Elliott chuckled as he took the glass. “Yeah, it’s almost like someone’s writing them out of the series with a suspiciously convenient string of life opportunities. Wild, right?”

Callie and Sam were holding court near the patio doors, surrounded by what looked like a heated debate about queer representation in horror films. Liam joined them, slipping an arm easily around Sam’s waist like it had been there a hundred times before.

Sam’s hand found his without even looking, fingers lacing together mid-sentence.

They shared a glance and a quick kiss, one of those quiet, knowing looks that made my chest ache in the best way.

Jordan (Yes, that Jordan, my very kind, very hot pseudo-boyfriend from my Noah-free era) was laughing at something Tess was saying, and it didn’t feel weird or complicated.

He was just part of the group now. Noah didn’t hold anything against him, wasn’t jealous or awkward.

He’d even made Jordan laugh last week at trivia night. And I am nothing but grateful.

Grateful for the mess that had brought us here. For the people. For the changes happening.

Noah just returned this afternoon from a week in San Francisco for his quarterly meetings at corporate.

And unlike the Noah I first met, this one actually communicates while he is gone.

We FaceTime. We text good mornings and good nights.

He sent pictures of the terrible hotel coffee and a selfie from the airport where he looked tired but happy.

And when I picked him up from the airport, he kissed me right in the middle of arrivals, bags and all, like it was nothing. Like we were something worth showing.

Now, he stood beside me, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of my hand as he took in the room. He looked relaxed. At ease. Like this place, this life, finally fit him.

Maxie caught sight of us and, naturally, made a beeline.

“Well, well, well,” she purred, martini in hand, her fourth outfit of the night, a shimmering royal blue jumpsuit that only she could pull off. “If it isn’t Havenwood’s most unlikely success story.”

Noah lovingly warned her. “Maxie… “

“Shhh,” she said, holding up one manicured finger. “Let me bask in the glow of my accomplishments. A year strong! That’s like 7 in gay years!”

I laughed, leaning into Noah. “You really think you’re responsible for us?”

“Obviously,” she said, offended I would even ask. “Who else called out the absurd amount of pining? Who else told you to get over yourself? Who else nearly pushed your brooding ass off the emotional cliff of vulnerability?”

Noah made a face, then shrugged. “Everyone inserted themselves. Literally, everyone had something to say.”

Maxie blinked, then tilted her head with mock offense. “Excuse you. I did it with flair and flawless eye makeup. There’s a difference.”

Noah let out a low chuckle, like he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah. You were the only one who actually made it entertaining.”

Maxie beamed, clearly satisfied. “And looked amazing doing it. So, you’re welcome.”

I raised my glass. “Thanks, mama.”

“Anytime, sugar,” she said, clinking her glass against mine. She lingered for a beat longer, then kissed both of us on our cheeks and drifted back into the chaos to terrorize Renzo and Harper next.

I turned to Noah. “You know she’s never going to let us live this down.”

He laughed. “I know.”

God, I love that laugh.

He looked at me then, head tilted slightly, eyes warm and open. “Worth it?”

I pretended to think. “I mean, you are emotionally exhausting. ”

“I cook.”

“True.”

“I rub your feet.”

“Also true.”

“I let you pick the movie even when it’s trash.”

“Okay, now you’re just showing off,” I said, laughing.

He leaned down, lips brushing mine. “So, is it worth it?”

I smiled against his mouth. “Yeah. Worth it.”

We stayed until well past 2 a.m. When we stepped outside, the October air hit like a wave. The Rivermere District had gone quiet except for the faint sound of the creek trickling nearby. Noah’s hand found mine as we walked.

“Did you mean it? What you said in there.”

I glanced at him. “Which part?”

“That this was worth it. Us.”

I stopped walking, and he did too, turning to face me.

I looked at him, really looked at him. All the pieces of the past year rose up like a tide. The silences. The fights. The doubts. The growth. The way he’d shown up. Chosen us.

And suddenly I didn’t feel afraid anymore. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Noah Patel, you are the most infuriating, complicated, beautiful man I’ve ever known.”

His lips curved. “That’s not an answer.”

I pushed back playfully. “It’s MY answer.”

He pulled me closer, his hands settling at my waist. His breath was warm against my cheek as he whispered, “I love you.”

My hands found their way around his shoulders and neck. “I love you too.”

And then he did something I wasn’t expecting.

Still holding me, he said, barely above a whisper, “I love you, and I plan to spend the rest of my life with you.”

I froze, my heart kicking against my ribs. My hands moved to his chest. I pulled back slightly, searching his face. He was serious. “Is that a proposal?” I asked, half-teasing, half-terrified.

He chuckled. “Absolutely not. I would be way more romantic and creative than this.”

I raised a brow. “Would you?”

“Evan, if I had my way, we’d walk to the courthouse tonight and sign the papers. But I know we deserve more than that. We deserve everything. And when the time comes? Hot damn, it’s going to fucking blow your beautiful mind.”

Warmth filled my chest, spreading outward, anchoring me to him, to this moment, to us.

I smiled, tilting my head to kiss him, slow, deep, final in the way that mattered most. My lips against his, breathing him in, holding him close

“Till then,” I declared. “I’ll wait patiently. But…”

Noah’s eyes got wide, “There’s a but?”

“Just… know that I’m yours. If you want me.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, “Dramatic and clingy? You really are the whole package.”

And with that I kissed him softly on the lips.

We walked the rest of the way home in the fall night, the creek babbling beside us. I knew, without a doubt, that Noah Patel was my forever.