her guy best friend

Noah took another sip of his drink, letting the burn of whiskey settle in his chest as he scanned the packed room. He hadn’t planned on coming to this party—he never really liked them—but his friends had dragged him out, saying he needed to "live a little."

He was already regretting it.

The music was too loud, the air was thick with the smell of **** and sweat, and there were way too many people. He leaned against the wall, watching conversations unfold around him, trying to decide how much longer he had to stay before he could leave without looking like a total buzzkill.

And then, he saw her.

Noah’s breath caught in his throat.

She was standing on the other side of the room, laughing at something, her head tilted back, her whole face lit up in a way that made his chest tighten. He hadn’t expected to see her here. She hadn’t mentioned she was coming, and he definitely would have remembered if she had.

But that wasn’t the only thing throwing him off.

She looked… different. Not in a bad way—never in a bad way—but in a way that made it impossible to look away. Her usual comfortable outfit was replaced by something bolder, something that hugged her figure in a way that made his pulse skip.

And she wasn’t the only one who had changed.

Because for the first time in a long time, Noah felt something shift inside him. Something dangerous.

As if she could feel his stare, her gaze swept the room and landed on him.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and then, just like that, her whole face softened into a smile.

“Noah!” she called, weaving through the crowd toward him.

Before he could even think, she was standing in front of him, looking up at him with that familiar, easy warmth that always had a way of undoing him.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” she said, nudging his arm playfully.

He **** a shrug, trying to ignore the way his skin burned where she touched him. “Didn’t think you’d be here.”

She laughed, and the sound sent something sharp and sweet through him. “Yeah, well. Me neither.”

Noah swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He wanted to say something—something normal, something best friend appropriate—but his brain was short-circuiting because he couldn’t stop staring at her.

She caught him.

“You’re looking at me weird,” she teased, tilting her head.

He blinked. “I’m not.”

“You are.” She smirked, crossing her arms. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

Noah let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “No. You just… look different.” He looks down at Emma's boobs that were basically popping out of her bra.

Something flickered in her expression, just for a second, before she waved him off with a laugh. “Yeah, well. Long story.”

He wanted to ask. He wanted to know everything—why she was here, why she looked like that, why his heart was beating too fast just standing next to her—but before he could get the words out, she grabbed his hand.

“Come on,” she said, pulling him toward the kitchen. “Let’s get a drink.”

Noah let her lead him, even though his pulse was hammering in his ears. Her hand was warm in his, fingers curled around his like it was the most natural thing in the world. He tried to ignore the way his chest tightened at the feeling.

Best friends don’t think about stuff like this.

They reached the kitchen, and she let go of his hand—too soon, too fast—and grabbed a cup. “What’s your poison?”

Noah hesitated. “Just whatever you’re having.”

She grinned, pouring them both a drink before handing him one, their fingers brushing. It was stupid how much that tiny touch sent sparks through him. He cleared his throat, taking a sip, needing something—anything—to ground himself.

“So,” she said, leaning against the counter. “How’ve you been? You look…” She paused, eyes raking over him in a way that made his stomach twist. “Good.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “Good?”

She laughed. “Yeah, you know. Good. Like… I don’t know, different as well.”

“Different?” he repeated, his lips curving slightly. “Is that your way of saying I look bad?”

“No!” She rolled her eyes, nudging him again, and he had to grip the counter to steady himself. “I mean—” she hesitated, her gaze flickering over him again, “just… different. In a good way. I havn't seen you all summer”

Noah didn’t know what to do with that.

He grinned, watching her, feeling the warmth of her presence settle into his bones. This was normal. This was them. It didn’t matter that his pulse was still racing or that he was suddenly too aware of every little thing about her.

But then, as she took another sip of her drink, her fingers drumming lightly against the counter, she hesitated.

And that hesitation sent something cold through him.

“What?” he asked, watching her closely.

She shook her head quickly, forcing a small smile. “Nothing. So, how was your summer trip?”

Before He could say anything, Marcus appeared out of nowhere, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, Emma! There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He glanced at Noah, his grin widening. “Oh, hey, man. Didn’t see you there.”

Noah's smirk faltered for a split second, but he recovered quickly, nodding at Marcus. “Hey.”

Marcus turned back to Emma, completely oblivious to the tension. “So, you wanna go play some pong upstairs? We need a fourth.”

Emma blinked, caught off guard by the sudden interruption. She glanced at Noah, who was watching her with an unreadable expression, then back at Marcus. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Let’s go.”

Marcus grinned, pulling her away from the counter. “Cool. Let’s go!”