Page 17 of Best Served Cold

“What?” he asked, his blush deepening.

“Just waiting for my winnings.” I smirked. I might not share the details of why I’d won, but I sure as fuck was claiming the victory.

His features relaxed into a casual grin. “You want to know my name?”

I nodded.

He took a step closer and leaned in so his lips were right next to my ear. “My name,” he whispered, the edges of his lips dragging over my lobe, “is Noah.”

The unexpected sensation sent a bolt of what felt like electric shocks down my spine as another of those strange little adrenaline drops detonated in my chest.

It took more effort than I’d ever admit to not jerk away.

Rath—Noah—pulled back with a cocky smirk.

“Gonna share with the rest of the class? Or do we all gotta kiss you to get the info?” River asked playfully.

Noah took a step back and made a ‘go ahead’ motion.

“Noah,” I said, still trying to shake off whatever the fuck that had happened when he’d told me his name.

“Noah?” Bubbles asked. “You don’t look like a Noah.”

He shrugged and pulled his phone out of his pocket, settling on the closest stool as he looked at the screen.

“Noah,” River tested the name out. “I like it. Very biblical.”

Noah’s eyes tightened, even as he chuckled. “That it is.”

I sat back down on my stool as Bubbles loudly ordered shots from the evening bartender.

Next to me, Gray leaned in close. “You okay?”

“Mm. Yeah.”

I’d just had my first kiss, all because of a stupid dare.

Noah tucked his phone away. “I gotta go.”

“Uh-oh. Looks like someone is having a gay freakout.” Bubbles laughed. “I mean, Z’s got skills. Not surprising if you’re a little gay after that. Just go watch some porn and you’ll be straight again.”

“I want you to repeat that to yourself,” Gray said flatly. “And actually listen to how it sounds.”

Bubbles was quiet for a moment. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m…you know how stupid I get when I drink. I was just teasing. I’m an asshole, but I’m not that kind of asshole.”

I tore my gaze from Noah. Bubbles was staring pleadingly at Gray, who was the only openly queer person in the group.

“I know you’re not.” He clapped Bubbles on the shoulder. “But maybe be a little more careful with how you word things.”

“I will. Sorry,” Bubbles told Gray, then looked at Noah and mouthed, ‘Sorry,’ to him, too.

“Everything okay?” Tiny asked Noah, who was currently as tense as I had ever seen him.

“Yeah. Problem at home.” He shoved his phone into his pocket and pulled a bill out of the other. “Next round’s on me.”

Before anyone could say a word, Noah was striding away from us and toward the door.

“Did I do that?” Bubbles asked. “Do you think there’s really something at home?”

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