I click to the next slide, grateful for something to focus on besides Logan’s closeness.
“We implemented a tiebreaker protocol using amplitude thresholds. Urgent signals—which tend to have higher amplitude—automatically get bumped to the front of the queue. Then we paired it with a decay function that adjusts the threshold based on the overall system load.”
“Meaning the system self-regulates under stress,” Landon says, nodding. “Excellent work.”
“It was Logan’s idea,” I say before I can stop myself. “The decay function. I had the threshold concept, but he’s the one who figured out how to make it adaptive.”
Logan’s ears go pink. Again. I think it’s becoming my favorite thing about him. “It was collaborative.”
“It was brilliant,” I correct. “Take the compliment.”
There’s a beat of silence. Bennett’s eyebrow ticks up. Layla is looking between us with an expression I know means I’m getting questioned later.
“Well,” Landon says, breaking the moment, “brilliant or collaborative, it’s working. Let’s talk next steps.”
The meeting continues. I force myself to pay attention—to take notes, to ask questions, to be the competent professional I’m supposed to be. But every few minutes, my brain unhelpfully supplies another replay of Logan’s lips on mine, and I have to dig my fingernails into my palm to stay focused.
This is actually happening. Finally. The man I’ve wanted since the moment I laid eyes on him kissed me.
And then I asked him to do it again. And he did. And it was...
God. It was everything.
Which is terrifying, if I’m being honest. Because ‘everything’ is a lot to lose. And I’ve never been great at having things I can’t control.
The door opens and Serena backs in carrying two massive paper bags, the smell of garlic and tomatoes wafting into the room.
“Cavalry’s here,” she announces. “Someone clear a space before I drop the carbonara.”
The meeting dissolves into controlled chaos as people shuffle papers and make room for food. Serena starts unpacking containers while Caleb helps distribute plates and napkins. I’m about to stand up and join the food line when I feel Logan’s hand brush against mine under the table.
Just a touch. Barely there. But it sends electricity up my arm.
I glance at him. He’s looking straight ahead, seemingly focused on Landon’s conversation with Bennett about timeline projections, but there’s a slight quirk to his lips that tells me this wasn’t accidental.
I slide my hand closer to his, our pinkies touching. His breath catches, so slight I almost miss it.
“Breadsticks!” Jenna announces, placing the bag directly in front of us. “Extra for the lab rats who’ve been living on coffee and air for the past week.”
“Thanks,” I manage, hoping my face doesn’t betray the fact that Logan’s thumb is now tracing small circles on the back of my hand. I reach for a breadstick, suddenly starving despite the butterflies in my stomach. Next to me, Logan reluctantly releases my hand to accept a plate from Caleb, who’s making his way around the table.
“Eat something substantial,” Serena says, eyeing me critically as she passes. “You look like you’ve been running on fumes.”
“I’ve been busy,” I mumble around a mouthful of breadstick. “Important science stuff.”
“Mhm.” She gives me a look that says she doesn’t quite buy it, then slides a container of pasta toward me. “Eat the carbs. I got that mushroom ravioli you like.”
I don’t argue. The pasta smells amazing, and I suddenly realize I haven’t had a proper meal since... when? Yesterday?The day before? Time has been slippery lately, measured more in simulation cycles than proper days.
As I spoon some of the pasta onto my plate, I notice Serena scrutinizing me, her expression sharp. “Is everything OK, Audrey? You look... different.”
I freeze with the container of pasta tilted over my plate. “I look the same as always.”
“No, she’s right,” Layla says, leaning on her elbow with the same sharp expression. “There’s something. Did you change your makeup?”
“I’m not wearing makeup today. I woke up late. Barely had time to get my contacts in.”
“That’s not what’s changed. We’re used to seeing you without makeup.” Serena tilts her head, studying me. “But something’s different. You’re all... glowy.”
