I already have a headache.

The lights, the noise, the inability to move without pushing through three other people at once—I was ready to leave exactly two minutes after we arrived. Why any club would place their bar three feet inside the entrance is a mystery to me. My headache probably stems from having to shove through a hundred people just to walk in the door.

And not only that, but I stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe not at a passing glance, but anyone that glimpsed my face would probably think I was ill. That, or high on whatever drugs are being dealt in this place.

Nora remerges in front of me. “Here—to you from me,” she says. “Cheers!”

“What flavor is this?” I ask, raising my neon red margarita.

“A Club Red Marg.” She takes a drink and licks her lips theatrically. “Tastes like strawberry.”

I take a sip and wince. She’s not wrong, there’s a hint of strawberry but the other ninety percent is tequila.

Nora smirks at me. “I know right? They make ‘em strong. But I bought it myself, Officer, so I promise it’s not drugged.”

“Not funny.”

I don’t even have time to take another drink before Nora pulls me toward an open booth on the opposite side of the club.

She sits down, sets her drink on the table, and turns to face me. “Okay, in all seriousness, you look like I’m dragging you to a root canal or something. Will you lighten up a little?”

“I’m fine.” I take a sip from my glass as if reinforcing my response.

“Remember what I said about the whole cop persona thing?”

“My stern cop persona, you mean?”

Her expression almost looks amusing with strobe lights flashing across it. “You look like you want to arrest everyone in here right now,” she says.

I force a laugh, but Nora ignores it. “Hey, stop it,” I say, “I’m fine, I promise. I just need to settle in.” I clink my glass against hers in a mock cheers.

“Yes, more of that. We’re aiming for fun tonight. Not blah, I’m fine.”

My laugh’s not entirely forced this time. Her imitation of me was so deep and melodramatic that it was actually kind of funny.

She slaps my leg. “I’m being serious!”

“I know, I know,” I tease. I’m already beginning to feel the strength of the drink in my limbs. “So… who do you know here again?”

“His name’s Anthony, he’s a bouncer.” She cranes her neck as if it’ll do anything to help her scan over the crowd. “I haven’t seen him yet, he wasn’t at the door. But he did tell me that he’s seen Knicks players in here before.” She bobs her eyebrows at that.

“Uh-huh, how exciting for him. And how exactly did you meet Mr. Anthony?” I mimic her eyebrow bob.

“Not in here,” she says. “That’s a coincidence.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Excuse me.” There’s a voice from behind my shoulder accompanied by a slight bump as they nudge to my side. “I was wondering what you two are drinking tonight?”

Nora raises her glass with a smile.

“That’s a good choice. Would you let me buy your next round?”

“Maybe if you tell us your name.”

“I was getting there.” He shoots her a cocky smirk. “It’s James.”

She shakes his extended hand. “I’m Nora, this is Sophia.”

I smile when it’s my turn to shake. The sleeve of his white shirt is rolled up enough to reveal an enormous forearm. Everything about him is enormous. He looks like he probably carries my entire weight in just his upper torso alone.

“What brought you out tonight?” he asks Nora.

“Nothing special. Just a girls night.” She smirks at me.

“Good deal,” he says, faking an awkward laugh. He looks at me then back to Nora. “You two known each other awhile then?”

“We met in college,” she chirps. There’s an undeniable hint of delight in her voice and I can’t help but smile at it. Our friendship formed so effortlessly that it’s kind of astonishing it became as strong as it has. I would’ve never guessed that my freshman year lab partner, the reason I failed my first college assignment, would become my best friend. But it’s times like this that make me realize how oddly fit we are for each other.

Although… she owes me one after tonight.

It’s so stuffy that I swear I’m inhaling other people’s sweat with every breath. I take a sip and scan over the crowd. For a while my eyes bounce from person to person until they lock with someone standing at the other end of the bar.

Immediately I look away.

James has inched significantly closer to me. I take a drink and pretend to acknowledge the conversation between he and Nora. Something about the hospital she works at. After a long beat, I chance another glance down the bar.

Still looking.

And he’s clearly looking at me. Not over my head, not at James, not even at Nora. He’s looking at me and he’s making no attempt to disguise it.

And just then, he winks.

Exhilaration balloons in my chest. I smile, unable to break our stare. He bobs his head and it takes me a split second to realize that he’s nodding at me. He’s calling me over.

“Sophia?” Nora asks. She’s eyeing me when I turn my head. “She’s a homicide detective,” she says to James, evidently answering on my behalf.

“Wow,” he hums in a tone I’ve heard a million times before. A tone that really means Oh shit, I don’t really know what I think about that.

I nod and fake a smile before returning my glance down the bar.

He’s still watching me. Waiting.

“James is a physical trainer,” Nora says.

“Oh, that’s cool.” I sound even more artificial than he did. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

“You haven’t even finished your drink,” she says, not hiding her irritation.

I look down at my quarter-full margarita and gulp the rest.

I’m going to need it.