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 theSunshine 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 somewhatjealous. 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 acheersfashion. 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.
Chapter
Seven
We spend the rest of the evening like that, talking through Liam’s struggles with his class clowns, trying to convince him to bring another date to Alchemist so Noah and I can play wingmen, and Noah asking Liam about different D&D builds. I zone out for this last conversation; I want to be good enough at the game to do justice to my character and heal my party when they need it, but I have no interest in “winning.” I suspect Noah, with a character as charmingly chaotic as Loren, isn’t motivated by that, either, but with his and Liam’s backgrounds inLegends of Lore,it’s clear that game mechanics are a shared love for them both.
“Fuck.”
My attention snaps from the flames of the electric fireplace back to Liam.
He downs the rest of his beer and fishes out a few bills from his wallet. It’s enough for both of our drinks, and I flash him a grateful smile. “I forgot I had quizzes to grade,” he says apologetically before glancing at his empty glass; he huffs a laugh. “Maybe I’ll be more lenient with them tonight. But hey, it’s been fun. I’ll see you both for the game on Sunday, and let’s do this again soon.” He pins me to my stool with his eyes. “Don’t get up to too much trouble without me.”
“Okay,Dad.”
Noah swoops in for the bro hug, reaching to clasp Liam’s hand before bringing him in for the shoulder thump, but Liam dodges it awkwardly and goes in for a side hug instead. Even I still get the same treatment, though with a little more warmth. He’s not the touchy-feely sort, even after fifteen years of friendship.
For a moment Liam gives me a look, double-checking whether I mind being left alone—something we’ve done for each other since going to our first bar in college. After a reassuring nod from me, he grins and gives us a quick wave before ducking out of the brewery.
When I turn back to Noah, he’s got me fixed in an unblinking, thoughtful stare. His brows are drawn together in a puzzled line, and his mouth is ticked up to one side in amusement. He circles around the bar until he’s standing next to me, hip pressed against the polished wood.
