ep 2 first drink

Noah stared at the card long after Oliver had disappeared down the street. Midnight & Co.—the name was printed in sleek, silver letters, and beneath it, Oliver’s full name: Oliver Hayes, Owner.

He should’ve shoved it into his pocket and moved on. Instead, he turned it over in his hands, feeling the smooth edges, tracing the embossed letters with his thumb. He wasn’t sure why this man had such an effect on him. Maybe it was the confidence. The way Oliver seemed so sure of himself, like nothing could shake him.

Noah wasn’t used to that. People his age were all figuring it out—jobs, relationships, life. But Oliver? He was past all of that. He looked like a man who already knew exactly what he wanted.

And for some reason, that unsettled Noah.

Still, two nights later, he found himself standing outside Midnight & Co., pretending he wasn’t nervous.

The bar was dimly lit, all dark wood and velvet seating, the kind of place where people whispered secrets over expensive whiskey. A soft hum of jazz played in the background.

Noah hesitated near the entrance, wondering if this was a mistake. He wasn’t exactly the type to be in a place like this. He was used to cheap beer and neon-lit student bars, not whatever this was.

Then he spotted Oliver.

He was behind the bar, sleeves rolled up, fingers deftly mixing a drink. He looked effortlessly elegant, as if he belonged in an old movie—timeless, untouchable. But the moment he looked up and saw Noah, something flickered in his eyes.

Oliver smirked, setting down the glass. “Didn’t think you’d actually come.”

Noah crossed his arms, trying to ignore the way his pulse quickened. “You did offer me a free drink.”

Oliver chuckled, reaching for a bottle. “Fair enough. What’ll it be?”

Noah hesitated. He didn’t know fancy cocktails. “Uh… surprise me?”

Oliver arched a brow. “Dangerous choice.” But he was already moving, pouring something golden into a glass, adding a twist of citrus. When he slid it across the bar, his fingers brushed Noah’s again—light, intentional.

Noah swallowed.

Oliver leaned in slightly, resting his elbows on the bar. “So, tell me, Noah… are you always this reckless?”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “Coming to a bar for a free drink is reckless?”

Oliver’s smirk deepened. “Coming to my bar? Maybe.”

Noah took a sip of the drink—it was smooth, strong, with a hint of sweetness. He glanced at Oliver, tilting his head. “You think I should be scared of you?”

Oliver’s gaze lingered on him, unreadable. “Not scared. Just careful.”

Noah should’ve listened.

But instead, he smirked back. “Too late.”

And just like that, the game had begun.

Noah told himself he was only staying for one drink.

But one drink turned into two. Then three.

Oliver had a way of making time feel like it was slipping through his fingers. The way he moved, the way he spoke—slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world and somehow made Noah feel like he did too.

“Where’d you learn to bartend?” Noah asked, watching as Oliver poured a deep amber liquid into a glass.

Oliver leaned on the counter, twirling the glass in his hand. “London. I lived there for a while.”

“Fancy.”

Oliver smirked. “Not as glamorous as you think. I was twenty-one, broke, and needed a job. So I learned how to mix drinks. Turns out, I was good at it.”

Noah took another sip of his cocktail, the warmth settling in his chest. “So what made you come back?”

Oliver’s gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through it. But it was gone in an instant. “Some places don’t feel like home, no matter how long you stay.”

Noah didn’t press. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like Oliver wasn’t the kind of man who answered questions he didn’t want to.

Instead, he leaned back, watching Oliver in the dim light of the bar. The sharp cut of his jaw, the slight shadow of stubble, the way he rolled his sleeves up just enough to show the veins on his forearms.

He was handsome in a way that felt unfair. Not just good-looking, but dangerous.

Oliver caught him staring and smirked. “Careful, Noah. You keep looking at me like that, I might think you have a crush.”

Noah scoffed, trying to ignore the way his face heated. “Maybe I just like free drinks.”

Oliver chuckled, low and amused. “Then I should start charging you.”

Noah grinned. “Too late.”

Oliver shook his head, eyes glinting. “You’re trouble.”

Noah shrugged, setting his empty glass down. “So are you.”

Oliver studied him for a long moment,

to be continued

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