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‘no.’
    “Looking for someone?” Noah steps back, giving me room to move.
    The small gesture reassures me. I feel comfortable with him. He may radiate everything I should stay away from, but he has an honesty about him. He’s fascinating.
    I chew on my bottom lip for a second. “No.” I shake my head trying to erase the lingering doubts. “I’ll come home with you.”
    “Great. Give me a sec.” He searches his pockets, grabs his phone, and then appears to send a text. I rummage through my small bag and find my own, sending a quick message to Alex to let him know who I’m with.
    My phone lights up with a response.
    Alex: Choose someone different if you want to do this.
    Who the hell does he think he is? Frustrated, I text back, telling him to mind his own business. He’s my friend and I know he sees or hears what life is like at home. There’ll be no judgement from him. But he can’t tell me who I can and can’t hook up with, even though I appreciate his concern.
    I sigh as another text lights my screen, something cryptic about body shop men working on numerous bodies at the club tonight and needing to stay away.
    “Everything okay?”
    “Yes. It’s just my friend. I told him I was with you and he seems annoyed. He told me I should stay away from you.” I laugh, finding the whole thing ridiculous. “I’m guessing you have a bit of a reputation.”
    He chuckles, but looks to the floor. I think he’s embarrassed.
    “Yeah, you could say that.” He rubs a hand through his hair. “Does this change things?”
    The naughty girl inside me takes over and I give him a defiant smile. “Luckily for you, I dislike being told what to do. He should know better.”
    “Thank fuck for that.” Noah releases a breath and gives me a cheeky grin. He takes my hand and guides me through the mass of bodies and out of the club.
    Outside, he beckons a taxi. We get in and I half listen as he gives his address to the driver. Once we’re settled and on our way, he turns to me.
    “Hey. You’re shaking.” His voice holds an edge of concern. It makes me feel juvenile.
    I glance down at my hands and sure enough they are visibly trembling. I ball them into fists on my lap to hide my anxiety.
    One of his hands closes over the top of them. It’s hot and gentle as his calloused thumb rubs circles over my skin. The tender touch from such a rugged man renders me speechless. I turn my head in his direction. His dark hazel eyes fix on me.
    “I take it this isn’t something you do on a regular basis?” A soft chuckle escapes him. “Don’t worry. I told you I wouldn’t touch you unless you wanted me to.” His brow furrows for a second. “And, I meant it.”
    But that’s what scares me. I crave his touch. I want to know what he feels like under the black button-down shirt sculpted against his torso. His sleeves are rolled up and the corded muscles in his forearms flex with every twirl of his thumb on my hands. The urge to trace the cords up to the tattoos poking out from underneath his shirt tingles on my fingertips.
    Guilt runs through my veins and my stomach churns at the same time. My gaze fixes on the rush of street lights passing by, and the rest of the journey continues in silence.
    Noah continues to stroke my hands. I risk a glance at him every so often. He seems lost in his own world, his downward gaze fixed on our joined hands. He’s not coming across as the player Alex made him out to be in his texts. Okay, he does have a way with words, but if I’m honest, I like it. It makes me wonder if he’s got this Noah mixed up with a different one.
    The car crunches onto a gravel driveway, and tasteful floodlighting illuminates the area. My eyes are drawn to the view of his home. I’m surprised to find he lives in a renovated farmhouse. From the way his business looked, I expected a brand-new building, or maybe something renovated to look like a modern masterpiece. Not the rustic charm, with a twist of modern, I’m