I can’t help but laugh as he takes a sip and winces like a young boy.

“That was so worth it.”

“God, I don’t think I’ve had tequila since I was high school,” he says.

I take a drink instead of revealing that I maybe had a beer in high school, but definitely no liquor. That was college.

Which makes me think of Nora.

She’s still talking and standing beside James when I spot her again. She doesn’t feel me looking, but her expression says all I need to know. James hasn’t exactly made an impression.

“What, you need to go rescue her?” Noah asks.

“Is it that obvious?”

He only peers back at me.

“No, I’m staying right here,” I assure him. He chuckles. “But I’m curious, can you tell from her face?”

He turns to glance subtly over his shoulder. Then shrugs. “I told you awhile ago I thought he was batting out of his league.”

“That’s true, you did,” I say. “But I think I’ll let them work it out.”

Noah laughs at my impersonation of him. He has a laugh full of energy and a smile that fits perfectly across his jawline and into his cheeks.

“No, but really,” I say, “this is not the first time she’s continued accepting drinks while also wondering why the poor guy won’t leave her alone. I’m not bailing her out of this one.”

“Huh. I’m surprised he’s not your type.”

“Right. Yeah, I’m all about the Schwarzenegger looking guys.”

“I don’t know.” He pretends to consider it. “I could see it.”

Before I can catch myself, I toss a joking punch into his arm. But the way he laughs makes me swell with delight.

And God, it’s sexy.

Everything thing about him is sexy. Several times already I’ve noticed the hard lines of his chest under his shirt. He’s not threatening the freakish size of Mr. Schwarzenegger, but he’s certainly not weak.

And his eyes. His skin is so smooth and soft that combined with his dark ruffled hair, his green eyes practically glow. They’re the most striking eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Oh, here we go.” Noah points in the crowd. “That looks more like your type.”

I follow his finger toward a tall guy conversing with a blonde woman who’s also notably tall—at least five inches taller than me. She nearly reaches his shoulders.

“Yeah, no thank you,” I say. “I think I’d come up to his waist.”

“I thought women liked a man with a few inches on him?”

“Maybe…” I punctuate my smirk with a laugh. “But I don’t really have a type to begin with.”

“Oh—bullshit,” he says. “Everyone’s got a type.”

“Is that a fact? What type am I, then?”

He swigs from his margarita while his eyes peruse over me, up and down. And out of nowhere, almost as if toying with me, I get a whiff of his cologne.

Crisp, masculine, and utterly irresistible. Good God.

“Let’s see,” he begins. “Type A for sure, but in a way that’s too attractive to be overbearing. Smart. Knows exactly what she’s doing 99 percent of the time. Knows what she wants. Ambitious. The kind of woman that’s gorgeous, but doesn’t ever let it get to her head.”

At first I don’t have enough breath to reply.

“Am I right?” he asks after a beat, but I still don’t know what to say. My only hope is that my blush isn’t as visibly embarrassing as it feels. “Or here—tell me this,” he continues, sensing my hesitation. “What type am I, Sophia?” He emphasizes each syllable in my name.

“Let’s see,” I mimic, even mocking the way he sipped his drink while studying me. But inside my mind’s reeling. No matter what people say, profiling everyone walking down the street is not in a detective’s job description. However, I am trained in profiling a person of interest.

And lightly speaking, Noah is definitely a person of interest.

“Alpha male personality,” I finally say. “For sure. Successful. Knows what he’s doing seventy-five percent of the time, but likes to gamble with the other twenty-five. The kind of guy who knows he’s attractive and absolutely lets it get to his head.”

Noah breaks out in laughter that’s music to my ears.

“You don’t have to tell me, I know I’m right,” I say.

“Then I guess the only question is whether our types are compatible.” He adds a smirk that sends electricity up my spine.

I’m ready with a response—a response that has my heart beating fast, when a body collapses into my lap. My instinctual reflexes surge before I realize who it is.

“Ahhhh,” Nora drones. She rolls over and falls to the ground.

“Jesus!” I kneel down in a feeble attempt to catch her head before it hits the floor. She rolls over again, her head in my hands and a sloppy smile plastered across her face.

Great.

“What happened?” I ask, though I’m not sure why I even bother. She only mumbles in response. “Come on, get up.” I pull her arm until she’s sitting up. There’s a chance Schwarzenegger-James slipped something in her drink, but I can’t find him and there’s a crowd of spectators already starting to gather.

Nora slurs together a few syllables of nonsense.

“Let’s go, get up!” My tone is somewhere between a cop and a sympathetic friend. I tug on her arm again and Nora stumbles to her feet.

My eyes catch Noah and his expression deflates me.

“I’m sorry,” I mouth to him, but even that feels useless. But as much as I hate it, I have a bigger priority right now.

I guide Nora as she takes a wobbly step. Then another.

The hand of what I assume is a bouncer catches my shoulder, but Noah’s at my side when I turn.

“Are you really leaving right now?”

“I have to.”

His face deflates me all over again.

I try my best to pull myself away but his arm snags my shoulder again. “Sophia, wait—I need to see you again.”

With Nora hanging deliriously off my arm, there aren’t a lot of things that could make my heart flutter. But that does.

“I’ll give you my number,” I tell him. I rattle it off as he follows across the club, helping to clear a path to the exit.

I turn around and steal a final look at his face before forcing Nora out the doors. The night air feels unusually crisp as we emerge. I pull Nora towards a bench around the side of the building.

“Sit here. I’m going to call a cab.”

“I’m fine.” She yanks her arm out of my grasp.

“Sit do—”

“I said I’m fine,” Nora barks. And she’s right. It’s like the night air miraculously depleted her system of toxins.

For a second I can only stare in disbelief. “What the hell was—”

“I’m fine, Sophia. Really.” Her voice is so composed that it baffles me. “Sorry I had to do that.”

“That was an act? Are you kidding me?”

She grins and I have to hold back from slapping her across the face. “How did I do?”

I’m at a complete loss for words. When I finally overcome the urge to slap her, I turn toward the entrance and tell her that I’m going back inside.

“No.” Nora reaches for my arm. “They won’t let you reenter.”

“Then call your friend Anthony. I’m going back in.”

“Sophia, stop.” She tugs on my arm and I spin around to face her. “Look at the line, it’s not worth it.”

I don’t even bother to look. “So you dragged me out here just to make a scene and drag me back out? What is your—”

“I’m sorry,” she pleads. “I didn’t know what else to do, that guy was a creep.”

“Really? You couldn’t come up with any other option?” I glare at her for a moment, then return to dialing a cab when something knocks me forward.

“There you are,” slurs a deep and sloppy voice. James’s hand finds my shoulder in an attempt to keep his balance.

Nora springs to her feet. I shrug out of his grasp and he flops onto the bench.

“Come here.” I take Nora’s arm and pull her around the corner toward the entrance. “Call the cab—” I hand her my phone. “—I’m going to signal a bouncer.”

“No, it’s fine.” She takes my phone but grabs ahold of my hand with it. “We’re fine, cab will be here in a sec anyway.” She puts the phone to her ear.

I don’t know why I’m letting Nora decide anything right now, but at this point I’m too annoyed to argue.

This is what I get for giving in to her girl’s night out.

Nora ends the call and reaches to hand my phone back, but it drops when someone clenches her shoulder from behind. “Found you,” James blurts.

“Get off,” Nora yells.

“Sir, you need to get the hell away from her,” I shout, pulling his hands off her shoulder. He hurls a stiff backhand to the side of my face. My cheek instantly throbs in a pulsing sting.

I reach for my tranquilizer right as the realization sets in.

I don’t have any of my gear.

The man pushes Nora to the side and takes a wobbly step toward me. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he mumbles. His breath reeks of liquor.

A hand clasps tight on my hip, but before I can throw my elbow back in defense Noah is in front of me.

He cocks his fist back and swings.

The man stumbles backward. His eyes are dazed but he took it well. He staggers to the side and tries to square his body, but Noah takes another step forward and swings again.

This time the man drops.