Zoe POV

I don’t hear him coming.

One second I’m standing in the shadow of the alley with James’s hands still warm on my waist and my pulse still loud in my ears, and the next second there’s a voice—sharp and furious and cutting through the festival noise like a blade—calling James’s name, and then Noah is there, moving fast, and the crack of his fist connecting with James’s jaw is so sudden and so hard that James goes sideways, stumbling back several feet ...