We had only been at our table in The Lock for an hour or so when it dawned on me that the room was spinning. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe I was just a bit drunk.

"Where the hell is our food?" I yelled across the table, battling against the noise of a pub packed with seemingly every person from our university. Met with blank shrugs and drunken giggles from Charlotte and Kris, I pushed back the heavy wooden chair and stumbled over to the bar.

"Excuse me, we ordered food like an hour ago but it's not arrived yet," I informed the girl serving.

Fuelled maybe just slightly by the alcohol, her blank, unfazed look caused the knot of agitation in my stomach to grow.

"Look, I know it's not your fault," I continued, "But I could die if I don't eat soon. This is completely unanxemptable service, really," I slurred, waving my hand around in annoyance.

Stifling a laugh with the back of her hand, she continued to pour the drink she was currently serving another customer, without even so much as an acknowledgement of my complaint.

I was getting ready to go in for round two when a deep, emotionless voice cut through behind me.

"Wow, you told her there, health and safety."

Spinning around, I came face-to-face with old green eyes himself. Stunned by his ability to just appear out of nowhere, and still fuelled up by the gin gremlin inside me, I snapped back.

"Oh, surprise surprise it's the stalker," I groaned. "Why are you even here, bus boy? You're just rude."

Jabbing a finger against the material of his white T-shirt as I narrowed my eyes, it promptly bounced off the surprisingly muscular body underneath. Snatching my wrist away, he placed my hand carefully back on the bar behind me, leaning his body closer.

"And you're pissed," he whispered close to my ear, before stepping away to order his drink. "I'd offer you another one," he smirked, without even turning to face me, "But it looks like you've had enough already."

Stretching his torso across the bar to make his order heard to the barmaid, his shirt lifted just enough to reveal the bottom of a large, swirling pattern tattooed on his side. Funny how she's all ears now, I snorted to myself.

I was still staring at his exposed flesh when he turned around, a glass in his hand and his elbow resting on the bar.

"Sorry, are you waiting to accidentally assault me again?" he said, tilting his head with mock concern.

"No," I huffed, as the alcohol fanned the small flame of rage that had started to burn in my chest at his arrogance. "This time it's deliberate."

No sooner had the words left my mouth than my hand was flying up under his glass - the flat, outstretched palm making contact with the bottom. Almost in slow motion, I watched the contents of his drink come flying out of the glass, launch into the air, then come crashing back down. All the way down the front of my dress.

His white T-shirt bone dry, he simply stood staring at me with both eyebrows raised and an amused smile painted on his lips.

"Ah well," he said, suppressing his laughter, "At least it's only water. Some of us have got a gig to do tonight."

Raising a thumb to someone gesturing from across the room, he turned on his heel and headed over in their direction without so much as another word.

By the time I had staggered, dripping wet, back to our table, our overdue food order had already arrived, and my two friends could barely breathe from laughing.

While still reeling slightly from my public display of humiliation, Kris and Charlotte's infectious giggling soon became contagious.

"What the hell, Abi?" spat Kris as he shovelled a handful of cheesy fries into his mouth through bursts of laughter. "Did you just try to throw a drink over one of the band?"

"I don't know what I was doing if I'm honest," I replied, catching my breath somewhere between laughing and stuffing my face. "Ever since I fell on him this morning he's been... well, he's just been a bit of a knobhead to me."

"Wait a minute, you sneaky minx," gasped Charlotte, "You didn't say it was him that you nearly crushed to death. You should have played the damsel in distress card properly and fallen right on top of him. Maybe even pulled his trousers down in the process!"

The noise of instruments tuning up grew louder in the background as we shifted our chairs around to face the small stage in the corner of the bar. As bus boy, the arrogant 'everything' player, picked up his faded blue guitar and placed the strap over his head, I absent-mindedly dabbed at my damp chest with a napkin.

"Christ, Abs, making you hot and sweaty already is he?" teased Charlotte.

I swatted my hand at her across the table as I laughed it off, but could feel my cheeks flush as I directed my gaze back to the group of four guys who had now assembled on the stage.

As bus boy pushed up his sleeves, my eyes were drawn to even more tattoos on his forearms. Each one seemed to be its own design, yet blended seamlessly into the others, hints of golden tan peeking through between the black ink.

There was no denying all four of them were a good-looking bunch of guys, but he was something else. Judging by the adoring group of girls already gathered down at the front trying to catch his eye, I wasn't the only one to have noticed it.

Somehow, though, he didn't seem to even register their presence. Coolly ignoring their loud, tongue-in-cheek comments, his brow was furrowed in concentration as he tuned his instrument and balanced sound levels with the engineer at the back of the bar.

Strumming loosely across the open strings a few more times, he nodded towards the invisible soundman in approval. In a fleeting second, his eyes met mine across the room and a small hint of a smile crept across his lips as he stepped up to one of the two microphones on stage.

"Ladies. Gents. We are The Ambition and we want you all to get up and fucking dance," he commanded.

Then, as the muscles of his tanned arm contracted and the veins tensed under the ink of his tattooed skin, he raised his hand and struck it down hard against the strings.

Within the first song alone, most of the crowd - my present company included - was up on their feet dancing to the tuneful and infectious music that rang out from the ancient PA system. I, meanwhile, slunk lower into my seat and focused on stirring my drink with a paper straw.

Damn it, why does someone so full of himself have to be good?

Almost an hour later, and after two encores, my friends made their way back to our table.

"Abi, why didn't you come up to dance? They were brilliant!" Charlotte panted, as she and Kris collapsed onto their seats to catch their breath.

"Oh, it's fine, watching you two kept me entertained," I smiled.

The alcohol had slowly started to settle in my bloodstream. Combined with the collective racket of three guitars and a full drum kit, a throbbing ache was starting to pulse furiously through my head.

"I think I'm going to get going, anyway," I yelled, as I stood up and shouted over the pumping dance music that was now ringing out through the speakers. "I'll text you when I'm home."

Yanking my jacket out from behind a couple that had jumped straight into my empty seat for a make-out session, I jostled towards the exit, ignoring random attempts from strangers trying to dance up against me.

The cold January night hit my face as I stepped out onto the street, which, considering the noise back inside, was strangely quiet. Remembering it was only Monday and the entire non-student population was probably in bed by now, I pulled my coat tight against the chill and started to head towards home.

"You're not walking alone at this time of night, are you?" Noah's voice called from a few metres behind.

"Well, there's a fucking surprise," I muttered agitatedly under my breath, rolling my eyes. Without turning around, I continued to walk.

As his footsteps sped up behind me, he spoke again.

"Abigail?"

The shock of hearing my name from his lips stopped me in my tracks. I turned to look at him, his sharp features highlighted by the glow of a street light as he finally caught up with me.

"You did say it was Abigail, right?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair as he came to a stop.

"Uh, yeah. Abi. Yeah." I stuttered, unable to remember the name I'd had for the past eighteen years.

"I'm Noah," he continued, extending a handshake towards me.

I stared down at his open palm without reaching out to shake it. Clearing my throat, I continued to maintain my focus on his large hand. "Not scared I'm going to accidentally electrocute you or something?"

The faintest laugh vibrated from his throat, causing me to glance up just in time to see his mouth spread into the most glorious, slightly wonky full smile as he withdrew his hand back to his side.

"Can I walk you back?" he asked gently, "It's not safe to roam the city alone at this time of night. There are a lot of weirdos out there."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I couldn't decide whether this strange, new, slightly bi-polar guy might actually be the weirdo.

As though he could read my mind, Noah turned his palms upwards as he laughed again. "I'm not one of them, don't panic."

For some reason, I found myself laughing back and nodding in acceptance of his offer. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes were genuine as he smiled, and we began to stroll side-by-side in silence.

"Don't you need to pack up all your gear?" I asked, trying to break down the wall of nervous energy that he seemed to shroud me in.

Pointing to his back with his thumb, Noah drew my attention to the guitar case already hanging from his broad shoulders.

"I travel light." he smiled. "I've got all the time I need in the world tonight, now."

"So why are you leaving already?"

"I'm just not really into it, you know? I love being on stage and performing, but hanging out and talking bullshit with groups of people I hardly know isn't my thing."

"Sociable kind of guy then?" I said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Not really," he smiled, "I prefer to keep my business private rather than sit around shouting about politics, box sets, or whatever everyone seems to be passionate about that particular day."

"I get that," I replied, nodding. "I've always been considered kind of shy, compared to the friends I grew up with."

"You didn't seem shy when you were trying to throw a drink over me earlier," Noah laughed, raising an eyebrow.

I could feel myself blush, even with the cold night air on my cheeks.

"Well, you were winding me up about being accident prone. And drunk." I tried to argue.

Noah turned his body to face me as he walked one step in front. "I was just looking out for you. It was pretty obvious you couldn't even stand up straight, never mind give that poor bar girl a proper telling off."

"How the hell were you looking out for me?" I laughed, rolling my eyes at him as he sauntered backwards. "You weren't even-"

"Watch out!" Noah yelled suddenly, grabbing my arm to yank me towards him.

As his arms pulled me in tightly to his chest, a loud skidding noise rushed past. Just millimetres from where I had been walking, a young teen with his hoodie tied tightly around his face sped past on a bike, turning around to swear and flip the finger as he frantically pedalled off.

"You're the one on the pavement, you little prick," Noah shouted, the rattle of his deep voice vibrating against my cheek as he held my head against his warm body.

I could feel his heartbeat quicken through his fresh-smelling T-shirt before he pulled away slightly. Looking down, still with his arms around me, the look of anger on his face quickly transformed into a wide grin.

"To be fair," he said, "That's the second time today I've pretty much saved your life. You can't argue that I'm not looking out for you now."

Standing so close to him left me speechless. I desperately wracked my brain for something witty to say back, but the connection between my brain and my voice box was well and truly frazzled.

Bending his knees so that he reached my height, Noah cocked his head slightly to one side. His green eyes seemed filled with concern, while I stared dumbly back at him.

"Abigail, are you okay?" he asked, dropping his forehead slightly. Our lips were only inches apart, a small cloud of hot breath gently floating between us in the cold night air.

"Uh-huh," I murmured, still unable to string together any of my big girl words.

"You sure?" he continued, reassuringly rubbing my shoulders with his thumbs.

"Uh-uh."

Damn it! Come on Abi, man up, I silently willed myself.

Holding eye contact for a couple more seconds, Noah smiled his broad, perfectly imperfect smile, then dropped his arms from mine and rose back to his full height.

"Let's go, it's bloody freezing out here," he said, shivering dramatically as he dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket and began to walk again.

A chill tingled down the length of my spine as I snapped out of statue mode and followed his lead. And I was sure it wasn't just because of the cold.