Chapter 165:
Brad stayed rooted to the spot, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, the odd tang of fish mint refusing to fade. For some reason, he realized the aftertaste had started to grow on him. He called her name out of the blue. “Rylie.”
“What is it?” she answered without glancing back.
With casual confidence, Brad rolled his cuff and suggested, “I haven’t had lunch. Once you’re finished here, let’s grab something to eat.”
“No, I’ll pass. My neighbor prepared a meal just for me, and I won’t let it go to waste.”
Rylie continued, “Besides, I have other plans this afternoon. If you’re that hungry, you can go on your own.”
He couldn’t help himself. “So what’s keeping you busy?”
A sigh slipped from Rylie as she glanced over her shoulder, weighing whether to answer or brush him off. She finally said, “There’s an academic event at the university. They’re handing out awards this afternoon, and my name’s on the list.”
A flicker of amusement crossed Brad’s face, though a hint of genuine surprise lingered in his voice. “So you found time for a paper on top of everything else?”
While adjusting the temperature of the Petri dish, Rylie nonchalantly replied, “Pulled a few late nights last week. Wrote about breakthroughs in neural regeneration.”
After a beat, she added, “Actually, I analyzed some of your samples for it.”
The news caught Brad off guard. His eyes narrowed, a faint glint of suspicion appearing as he considered her words.
He moved closer, his presence quietly looming, and spoke in a low tone. “Let me get this straight. My lab results are part of your ticket to the stage?”
Her hands paused mid-task.
She straightened, facing him directly. “Nothing wrong with making use of what’s available. No names, no details — nobody will trace anything back to you.”
Only the soft, mechanical whir of the incubator broke the quiet that followed. With a half-smile, Brad mimicked her earlier gesture, tipping her chin with one finger. “So, Dr. Owen, does that mean you owe me a share if you cash in?”
Lɑtєst chαptєrs 𝑖n g𝒶l𝑛ovє𝓁ѕ.с𝓸m
She swatted his hand away, shooting him a look. “Pretty sure saving your hide was payment enough.”
A real laugh escaped him, quick and easy, and she felt a little jolt somewhere deep inside. “Guess you’re right. My life’s in your debt, and so’s a little blood.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket and straightened his sleeves. “Tell me the details for the ceremony. I’ll handle the ride.”
Before Rylie could object, Brad was already holding out her coat, his stance by the door firm and expectant, shutting down any protest.
Impatience colored his voice as he checked his watch. “Let’s go. Linger much longer and you’ll end up missing your big debut.”
Exiting the lab, Rylie trailed behind, watching sunlight scatter in patterns across the polished corridor floor. A quick glance at her phone assured her there was still a good thirty minutes before the ceremony kicked off.
Brad’s car was parked outside the building, a sleek, luxurious black Bentley, its smooth lines gleaming coldly under the sun.
He pulled open the passenger door with a practiced motion. As Rylie slipped into the car, a faint, familiar trace of antiseptic reached her nose — the same subtle scent she always noticed on Brad’s lab coat.
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