I can’t help smiling. “I think you might have rewired my brain.”
“Good. Yours could use an update.”
We’re both still holding on, neither of us moving away. Then our phones buzz simultaneously.
“That’s probably the group chat wondering where we are,” she murmurs, not moving.
“Probably.”
“We should go.”
“Probably.”
Neither of us moves.
“Five more minutes?” I ask.
She answers by kissing me again.
CHAPTER 13
Audrey
Ihave no idea what Landon James is saying.
Something about clinical parameters. Simulation benchmarks. FDA response timelines. Seventy-seven days left on the clock, and I can barely remember how to form sentences—because I haven’t just come from reviewing data. I’ve come from making out with Logan Whitman in the lab downstairs.
I nod along anyway, hoping my face is doing something professional as random words filter into my thoughts.
Trial.Flash of Logan’s mouth on mine.
Signal.His hand tangled in my hair.
Baseline.The sound he made when I pulled him closer.
My brain is running two incompatible programs: FDA technical requirements and Logan Whitman’s lips. Neither one is winning.
“The stability metrics from the last hundred and twenty-hour stretch are exactly what we needed,” Landon continues, clicking through slides on the conference room screen. “If we canreplicate these results in the next phase of testing, we’re looking at a very strong submission package.”
I cross my legs, uncross them, then cross them again. Next to me, Logan is taking careful notes, which would be impressive if I didn’t know exactly how scattered his thoughts must be right now. His handwriting is even, methodical—but twice I’ve caught him glancing my way when he thinks I’m not looking.
The third time he does it, I meet his eyes. His ears go pink immediately, and he looks away so quickly I almost laugh out loud.
“Audrey?” Landon’s voice breaks through my daze. “Can you walk us through the technical modifications of the latest iteration of the adaptive model?”
Every head in the room turns toward me.
I open my mouth. For one horrifying second, nothing comes out except a vague sound that might be the beginning of a word or might be my soul leaving my body.
Then Logan shifts next to me, his hand dropping to my thigh.
One squeeze. Encouraging. Warm.
Every nerve ending in my body lights up like a switchboard. Heat blooms from the point of contact, spreading upward, and for one reckless second, I forget there are other people in this room.
When I glance his way, he gives me a nod—you’ve got this—and the confidence in his eyes snaps my brain back online. Barely.
“Right. Yes.” I sit up straighter. “The original model was failing because of handoff latency between priority tiers. When multiple high-priority signals competed for the same frequency band, the algorithm couldn’t arbitrate fast enough.”
