Chapter 7 #2
Eli laughed, surprised. “You’d fight my clients for me?”
“I’d strongly word an email,” Noah said in an indignant tone. “Nobody gets to tell you your work’s not worth paying for.”
Something in Eli’s chest shifted. Compliments were one thing; belief was another.
“You’re not here just for the festival, are you?” Noah said quietly.
Eli glanced down. Noah was looking up at him, his expression open, curious. And for a second, Eli had the sensation of being seen.
“I really am here to help my sister,” Eli said. “But right now, work’s… slow. Life’s in a transition phase.”
“Is that code for ‘kinda sucks right now’?” Noah asked gently.
Eli hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, something like that.”
Noah stilled. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”
The words rang with sincerity.
“Because you needed another set of hands?” Eli tried to deflect.
“Because you’re you,” Noah said.
Eli’s stomach did that annoying swoop again. He fumbled with the lights. “You barely know me.”
Noah shrugged. “It feels as if I know enough to be glad you’re in my town for a while. The rest we can figure out.”
We.
That shouldn’t have felt as good as it did.
He cleared his throat. “What about you? Have you always been… Christmas Guy?”
“God, no. That’s just my winter job title.”
Eli stepped back to check the lights, then glanced at him. “And the rest of the year?”
“Carpentry.” Noah tugged at the hem of his hoodie. “I build custom furniture most days. Tables, shelves, benches, that kind of thing. People call me when their chairs wobble or their porch is falling off.”
“So you’re useful,” Eli said. “How terrible.”
“I know.” Noah sighed dramatically. “It’s a burden being this competent.”
He was joking, but Eli could see the pride lying beneath his words, the way his shoulders squared when he talked about building things that lasted.
“You never wanted to leave?” Eli asked.
Noah shrugged. “Thought about it once or twice. I went away to college too, came back—and stayed. I like knowing which hardware store aisle the screws are on. I like recognizing the dogs on Main Street.”
“You know the dogs on Main Street,” Eli repeated.
“Look, that golden retriever at the pharmacy is basically my child,” Noah said. “Don’t disrespect our bond.”
Eli snorted. “You and my sister should start a Mapleford fan club.”
“Already a member,” Noah said. “She supplies the pastries. I supply the unnecessarily elaborate light displays.”
The easy-flowing banter startled Eli. He’d forgotten what it was like to talk to someone new without feeling like he had to prove something. With Noah, it felt simple. Fun.
Dangerous.
Noah shivered. “Okay, I think we’re done out here. Let’s get inside and start on the windows.” They headed indoors, where Noah set up a ladder. He took a step back. “You okay with heights?”
“I’m okay with ladders,” Eli corrected. “Heights depend on the emotional circumstances.”
“I’ll hold it steady,” Noah offered. “I’ve only ever dropped one person.” Eli’s eyes widened, and Noah grinned. “Kidding.”
“Not funny.”
“Oh, come on, it was a little funny.”
“Not even a little.”
Noah placed his hands on the ladder. “Go on. I won’t let you fall.”
It was the kind of thing people said all the time. It usually meant nothing, but something about the way Noah said it, steady and low, made Eli’s stomach drop in a way unrelated to height.
Eli climbed. Halfway through hanging a cluster of paper stars, he looked down.
Noah was watching him, not in a weird way, but kinda focused.
Like the seventeen-year-old in Eli’s sketchbook staring across the gym with that easy confidence.
Eli’s heart thudded.
“You okay up there?” Noah asked.
“Yeah,” Eli said, although his pulse was dancing.
“Tell me if you need anything.”
“More hooks.”
“Got you.” Noah handed them up, and their fingers brushed again.
Eli pretended it didn’t matter, but he knew the truth.
It mattered.
They worked until noon, weaving lights, hanging paper stars, and fluffing fake snow along the baseboards. At some point, Noah got a smear of glitter on his cheek, and Eli had to look away because he had the sudden urge to brush it off.
“Cocoa break,” Noah declared to the room’s occupants.
Eli and Noah sat on the edge of the stage, their legs dangling. Someone handed out Styrofoam cups of too-sweet cocoa, and a teenager tested the sound system by playing the Mariah Carey song everyone pretended to be sick of and secretly loved.
Noah cradled his cocoa. “Tell me something I wouldn’t guess about you.”
Eli hesitated.
I drew you when I was fifteen.
I recognized you yesterday, and I don’t know how to un-feel that.
Instead he said, “I’m good at overhearing conversations, but terrible at small talk.”
Noah laughed. “That sounds about right.”
“Your turn,” Eli said.
“Hmm.” Noah stroked his chin. “Nobody believes this, but… I kind of hate New Year’s.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. There’s always too much pressure to be sparkling and new and improved. I’m more of a ‘we survived, let’s eat carbs’ kind of guy.”
Eli laughed. “That’s a strong take from someone who coordinates fireworks and champagne toasts.”
“Exactly,” Noah said. “Contradiction keeps me interesting.”
“Mission accomplished,” Eli murmured.
Noah shrugged. “I like quiet fresh starts, not loud ones.”
Eli’s chest did that thing again, a tug, like a string pulling from somewhere behind his ribs.
He liked that answer way too much.
There was noise all around them: volunteers arguing about the correct height for the garland, a kid dropping a box of ornaments with a crash, and someone wolf-whistling at the Mariah key change, but it all felt oddly far away.
Eli’s focus narrowed to a pair of blue-gray eyes, and the steam curling up between him and their owner.
His heart thumped, heavy and clear.
Noah glanced down first, taking a quick sip of cocoa as though he needed something to do with his mouth. “We should probably finish the window before Gloria comes back to inspect it. She terrifies me.”
“Which one is Gloria?” Eli asked.
“The Garland Task Force commander,” Noah said. “You met her. Gray cardigan, eyes of judgment.”
“Oh, her.” Eli gave an exaggerated shiver. “Yeah, she scares me too.”
They got back to work, but the air between them had shifted.
Now it was charged, a little sharper. Every time their shoulders brushed, Eli felt it.
Every time Noah reached past him for a hook or a strand of ribbon, Eli was acutely aware of how close they were.
Noah didn’t touch Eli. He didn’t need to.
Eli felt the heat of him anyway, warm, alive, and right beside him.
He forced himself to breathe evenly.
This is fine.
This is completely normal behavior around a former-probably-crush who doesn’t know he used to be a drawing secret.
By the time they’d almost finished, the community center looked like a midway point between chaos and magic, with twinkle lights glowing, wreaths hung, and the stage halfway transformed.
“You need to come back and do more of this. You’re good at it,” Noah said with a smile.
“At following instructions?”
“At…this.” Noah gestured at the chaos. “People. Projects. Not freaking out when Gloria starts talking about ‘aesthetic integrity.’”
“That was terrifying,” Eli said. “She had a stapler.”
“Exactly,” Noah said. “And you didn’t run.”
“You told me not to, remember?”
Noah smiled. “And you listened.”
Eli didn’t know what to do with how that made him feel. He was aware of warmth. Noah’s words steadied him.
Most of all, Eli felt wanted.
“This place is growing on me,” he admitted quietly.
“Mapleford does that,” Noah said. “It sneaks up on you.”
“And you?” Eli asked before thinking. “Do you sneak up on people too?”
Noah blinked, and then the slowest, sweetest smile stretched his mouth.
“I try not to,” he said. “But maybe a little… with you.”
Eli looked down at the lights, his heart thudding too fast.
He didn’t know how to respond to that either.
“Pass me a zip tie, will you?” Noah asked. “I need to make sure these lights stay put.”
Their fingers brushed as Eli passed it over. It wasn’t intentional. It wasn’t careful, either, but a warm, lingering touch, enough to pull Eli’s focus.
Noah exhaled softly.
“You okay?” Eli asked.
“Too okay.” Noah sighed. “Which is… a problem.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Because when I get too okay around someone, Elsie starts planning my wedding.”
Eli snorted. “I may have only just met her, but that sounds extremely on brand.”
“You have no idea.” Noah groaned. “She’s probably knitting us matching scarves right now.”
Eli felt himself grin—really grin.
This is dangerous.
More than that, it was a beginning.
As daylight began to fade, Noah called it a day, thanking his volunteers.
“And we get to do it all over again tomorrow,” he said with a grin. Volunteers wandered out in clumps, laughing and glitter-streaked, until only Eli and Noah remained. Noah walked with Eli to the door, but instead of opening it, he paused.
“It’s starting to look really good in here.”
“It is,” Eli agreed.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, a breath apart.
Noah’s voice lowered. “I’m glad you came today.”
Eli swallowed. “Me too.”
The quiet between them wasn’t awkward—it was electric. Eli’s heartbeat quickened.
“Hey.” Noah turned toward him. “Do you want—”
The door slammed open, Elsie barreled into them, and they quickly sprang apart.
“Guys, why are you standing behind the door? That’s a great way to get knocked onto your ass. The lantern boxes are here. I’ve got them in my car. And please, tell me there’s some cocoa left. It’s freezing out there.”
Noah sighed. “There might be a drop if you’re lucky.”
“Hey, am I interrupting a moment here?” She smirked at them. “Because from where I’m standing, you two could have been… leaning.”
“Elsie,” Noah groaned.
Her eyes glittered. “What? I’m just saying what I saw.” She headed toward the stage where the thermos stood.
Noah sighed. “I’ll grab the lanterns. Eli, want to give me a hand?”
Eli nodded. “Happy to.”
“Good,” Noah said in obvious relief. He pitched his voice low. “Today was better with you here.”
Elsie made a long, dramatic awww noise from across the hall.
Noah rolled his eyes. “Nothing wrong with your hearing, is there?”
“It comes with the territory. One of the prerequisites of being a teacher.” She grinned. “Was I not supposed to hear you murmuring sweet nothings?” Noah threw a garland at her, and she caught it without looking. “Your aim is garbage when you’re in love.”
“EL. SIE.”
Eli couldn’t contain his grin as he watched them bicker.
Today was a good day. Working alongside each other, their hands occasionally brushing, it had felt as though they’d been doing this together for years.
Today felt better with Noah.
Maybe everything did.
It took them five minutes to retrieve all the lanterns, and they stacked them in front of the stage.
Elsie went to the door. “Thanks for the cocoa. I’m gonna leave you two to get on with whatever you were doing.” She grinned again. “At least now you’ve decorated the windows, no one can see what’s going on in here.”
Noah pointed to the door. “Out. Now.”
Eli was trying hard not to laugh.
Once Elsie had driven away, they went outside and Noah locked the door. Their breath rose in soft clouds.
“You’re actually fun to work with.”
“Is that so shocking?” Eli asked.
“Your ideas were great.”
“I’m a professional overthinker.”
“Same here,” Noah replied.
They stood there a moment too long, and Eli felt the tug of awareness, warm and taut and unfamiliar in a way that wasn’t entirely new, but was new here, with this person.
Noah kicked at a bit of ice. “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”
“Ooh, I don’t know about that,” Eli teased. “Your wreath committee terrifies me.”
“They terrify everyone. Come anyway.”
Eli’s throat tightened. “Yeah, I’ll come.”
Noah smiled. “Good.”
Eli studied him, the way his shoulders moved, how his breath fogged the air, the rays of the dying late-afternoon light catching in his hair.
The same way he used to watch him across a high school gym, pencil in hand, his heart a mess.
Except now, Noah was looking at him.
And smiling.
Hurrying back to the bakery, Eli felt warm in a place he’d considered permanently cold. What filled him, however, was an odd tangle of hope and terror.
This isn’t the boy you drew.
This is a man who could break your heart.
But beneath the fear came another thought, quieter, but impossible to ignore.
Maybe he could heal it, too.