Chapter 24

24

The steady thrum of their footsteps echoed like a frantic heartbeat through the empty corridors, a stark counterpoint to the incessant buzz of fluorescent lights overhead. Cody's mouth was dry, his tongue coated with the metallic taste of fear and excitement. He stole a glance at Paige, her features etched with fierce determination as she forged ahead, the briefcase swinging like a pendulum in her white-knuckled grip.

They breezed back through the last two doorways, Paige's breath and her father's code, working their magic again. As they approached the first door, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. "Almost there," he murmured.

Paige shot him a look that could have frozen lava. "Don't jinx us now."

He'd chosen to have them leave the lab via the normal route. He'd already established his credentials with the lab workers. While the Consortium had security specialists onsite in the case of a breach, they preferred that as few people as possible entered the lab itself.

One of their glaring downfalls, he always thought. Relying on locks, no matter how amazingly sophisticated, wasn't foolproof. Obviously.

The main entrance intersected the normal Castle rooms via a small, drab conference room on the first floor, tucked between the library, its walls lined with case after case of uninspired pottery, and the surprisingly shabby little room housing the crypt of the Smithsonian's founder, James Smithson.

Paige hesitated as they neared the jagged opening leading back to the men's room, but he pulled her straight past the narrow entry to the dark tunnel. "Better that we come out the main doors. If someone catches us going out that way, we're in trouble."

"Fine by me." She surged forward, her expression hard as stone. "I'm telling the team. You know that, right?"

Panic flared in his chest. "Paige, wait. You can't tell them I'm Tanner. Not yet."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"There's more to this than you realize," he pleaded. "I'll tell you everything, I swear. But we need to destroy the virus first. Please, just wait until then."

Paige shook her head, her jaw set. "No way, Cody. I'm not keeping vital intel from my team. Sorry, but no."

Cody's shoulders slumped as realization dawned. Of course she wouldn't budge. Loyal, ethical Paige—he never should have asked. He'd have to deal with whatever fallout came from her team. But in this one moment, he decided to take something for himself.

"Understood." He grasped her arm gently, stopping her. "There's one more thing I have to do before we head back out."

A silly, stupid thing. An indulgent thing from a man never given to indulgences.

Confusion and concern flitted across her face. Before she could respond, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. It was quick, just a brush of lips, but it sent a jolt of electricity through his entire body. His nerves sang.

He'd wanted to do that since the day he first saw her squinting at lines of code in that MIT lab, messy bun sliding down the back of her neck.

Pulling back, he met her startled gaze. "I've wanted to do that for forever," he admitted softly. "Once your team tosses me out on my ear, I'll never get the chance. Might as well live a little, right?"

Paige blinked, momentarily speechless. Then, shaking her head as if to clear it, she said, "We need to go. The team's waiting."

As they continued towards the exit, Cody's mind raced. He'd face whatever came next—Paige's team, the Consortium, all of it. But for now, he allowed himself to savor the lingering warmth on his lips, a small moment of connection amidst the chaos.

He wasn't sure which one of them was more dazed. Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected just threw caution to the wind and kissed Paige. Paige . The girl he'd secretly loved, then ruined/saved. In the middle of a high-stakes mission. In a secret underground lab.

Talk about timing.

On the pretense of checking behind them, he stole a glance. Her cheeks were still flushed. A mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration bubbled up inside him. He'd spent years carefully cultivating his image as the unflappable genius, the guy who always had a plan. And here he was, acting on sheer impulse.

However this turned out, it felt good. He couldn't lie.

Despite the absolute absurdity of the situation, he couldn't bring himself to regret it. That brief moment, that fleeting connection, felt more real than anything he'd experienced in years of covert ops and double-crosses. It was messy and impulsive and absolutely perfect.

As they approached the exit, a wry smile tugged at his lips. If he was going down in flames, at least he was going down with style.