Page 10

“You never know!” Noah says it like it’s the best part. “I like to think that he fell so in love with the journey that he kept exploring.”

“At the end you’re rewarded with a version of his cloak, for your character to wear,” Liam adds.

“Does it give you the power to fly, too?” I ask.

“Of course.” They’re talking in unison again.

I nod. I’ve played Legends of Lore only a handful of times for Liam’s sake. It didn’t stick, but I’ve been hearing Liam gush about it and its stellar storytelling reputation for years. “I love it. The art’s gorgeous, too—beautiful work. Where did you get it done?”

“My buddy’s shop in NOLA. He does a lot of fantasy stuff, so I knew he’d kill it,” he says. “Do you have any tattoos?” Noah’s searching gaze touches on where he can see my skin—neck, wrists, collarbones.

I have to wet my lips with another sip of beer before I speak again.

“Just one.” I draw up my sleeve to show him where I have a very subtle and pretty tulip tucked near the crook of my elbow, and Noah circles his fingers around my arm to get a better look.

I tap on my glass with my free hand to distract myself from the feel of his calloused fingertips on my skin. His hands are warm.

“Pretty,” he hums, tracing the outline of one petal with the pad of his thumb. For a few heartbeats, the gentle circling of his finger is the only thing I can focus on.

“My old job didn’t really encourage us to have tattoos. But I’d like to get more one day. More flowers, maybe? My mom had this whole garden that I loved when I was a kid, and she taught me to take care of it. I could get tons.”

Oh god, I’m babbling. Liam’s biting the insides of his lips, trying not to grin.

But either Noah doesn’t notice or he’s just too kind to point it out. “Now that you’re free from work, you could really go all out,” he says. “A face tat, huge chest piece, everything.”

I want to laugh, but my stomach clenches at the thought, the bubbly feeling of giddiness from the beer quickly turning into the churning of anxiety.

“Probably not. I plan to return to the industry this fall,” I say, deflating slightly.

I draw my arm into my lap and tug my cardigan back into place.

“But I like having a secret up my sleeve.”

Liam idly scratches at the skin on his inner forearm. “Do you think the kids would respect me more if I had some ink?”

“Depends on the ink,” Noah muses.

“I was thinking the Pythagorean theorem.”

“Oh hell yeah. That’ll do it,” Noah says dryly, flashing me a look that has me snickering. “Anyway, round two?”

I opt for the Draught of Demons this time, while Liam orders another Flask of Storms. The Draught is heavy and I don’t like it as much, but I don’t mind, as it means I’ll savor it more slowly.

I haven’t had anything to eat since the peanut butter toast, so the Sunshine really went to my head.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Liam analyze Noah’s next pour as he tilts the glass at an angle until it’s half full before setting it straight again. Liam nods to himself in satisfaction.

“Been bartending a long time, Noah?” he asks.

Noah exhales a short huff of a laugh. “Nope, Alchemist is my first go. Why?”

I arch a brow in surprise. “What did you do before Alchemist?”

“Man, what haven’t I done?” Noah grins wryly to himself and shakes his head, curls brushing his shoulders.

“I interned at a swanky financial firm in school, then worked at an animal shelter after college for a while. Spent a summer as a park ranger in Washington—that one was the best, probably. Then a couple of soul-sucking months at Best Buy was all I needed before I quit. Even tried my hand at starting my master’s, but…

” He shrugs. “Nothing’s really stuck yet. ”

“What would you study?” I ask. At the same time, Liam mutters something under his breath about a “jack-of-all-trades” D&D feature.

“Something brand-new. Maybe environmental science.” His tone is wistful. “Maybe I’ll go back to it eventually, but it just wasn’t the right time.”

I sneak a sideways glance at Liam. He has on the studious, blank look of his famous poker face.

The poker face makes him an excellent teacher and an even better Dungeon Master, but occasionally I can see through it.

In this moment, I assume he’s thinking the same thing I am.

We’ve had the same dreams since middle school—and we’ve both followed extremely straightforward, single-minded paths.

He’s always wanted to teach, and I’ve always wanted to make it in the big city.

For Noah to have such varied interests, to have chosen no clear path in favor of trying a hundred different ones…

I bet that Liam is surprised and a little suspicious, while Noah’s many experiences only make me feel curious and somewhat jealous.

There’s a part of me that wishes I’d tried more things before landing on marketing.

“Well, we’re glad to have you, Noah,” Liam says, raising his glass in a cheers fashion. I nod enthusiastically and mirror the gesture. Quickly Noah gets himself a clean glass and fills it with just enough beer for a swallow.

“To new friends,” Noah says, his eyes flicking to catch mine.

“Good beer,” I add, clinking my beaker against his.

“And my two favorite spellcasters,” Liam finishes.

We all take a sip, and as I watch Noah knock his drink back, his neck flexing from the action, the warmth that spreads through my chest isn’t all due to the alcohol.