Lib Novel Page 1
Chapter 1 – Byron
“It’s the proxy,” Olivia says, her eyes flicking to mine, her pink hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. I stare at her, chest heaving, jaw tight. I don’t want to be here, right now, stuck in this fucking memory.
I know this isn’t real. This is a dream, but I can’t stop myself from going through the motions, from opening my mouth and following the damn script.
We’re sitting in my apartment, trying to tighten up the security for the base after someone managed to hack it and get through. The blinds are drawn, the room illuminated only by the lights of our screens. We’ve been working around the clock.
I’m sitting on the couch. Olivia is kneeling at the coffee table, refusing better seats, saying she prefers to sit on the floor.
“The proxy?”
“Check the firewall; you’ll see the proxy needs strengthening. The attacks are getting through.”
I stare at her lips, which shine with the same bubblegum pink as her hair. She’s wearing a little tank top with spaghetti straps, the faint line of a tattoo curling over her shoulder. My fingers itch to reach out and touch her, feel her warm skin under my palms again, but I hold still, squeezing my eyes shut, willing this dream to be over.
“Byron?”
“You’re right,” I murmur, opening my eyes to her again, meeting those green eyes briefly before looking back at my computer. “You’re right.”
“Like always,” she says, leaning back and crossing her arms, giving me a smug look. My heart squeezes painfully, like it does every time, like it did that night.
“Shit,” I mutter, hand to my chest.
“What?” she asks, alarmed, standing, coming to my side, her hand on my shoulder.
“Nothing,” I say, clearing my throat, tilting my head, looking up at her. “Just a little chest pain.”
We are so close now, her face just inches from mine as she looks down at me, biting her lip with worry. I can’t stop my gaze from focusing on the movement, on how I can smell her—all cherries and almonds.
“Byron,” she whispers, dropping her face closer to mine. “You should get that checked out.”
“It’s fine,” I say, unable to tear my eyes from hers. “Congenital thing. My heart acts up sometimes when I get worked up.”
“Are you worked up right now?”
I shouldn’t kiss her. I knew it then, and I know it now, reliving it in this dream. Kissing her opens the door to a thousand more ways to hurt, more opportunities to hurt her, and I wish I could go back and undo it.
But I’m just a character in a movie, now, and I nod, my chin bumping against hers as I do. A second later, her lips are on mine, and I’m grabbing her hips, maneuvering her so she’s straddling me, sighing into her taste, her touch, her scent all around me.
“Byron,” she gasps, “take off your fucking pants.”
And then, my alarm goes off.
I jump, my arm swinging, knocking over at least three empty energy drink cans as I reach for my phone, desperately trying to quiet the damn thing. I roll onto my back, scrubbing my hands over my face and looking up at the ceiling, wishing I could go back to sleep.
But Aris insists on these early-ass team meetings, so I force myself to open my eyes and reach over, grabbing a half-full energy drink and drinking the rest of the flat, acidic liquid. Faintly in the back of my head, I can hear Olivia telling me that there’s no way these things are good for my heart.
And maybe that’s the point.
I drag myself to my feet and shuffle through my apartment, kicking away clothes as I go. After a quick shower, I checked my watch, and, realizing I had a bit of time before the meeting, stopped in my computer room.
Others would call this space their “office,” but that’s not what it is. Truly, the only thing in here is my computer, a beauty I built myself, brick by brick. Every single component was customer-ordered and shipped from the best hardware manufacturers in the world.
I’d decided that if I was going to be stuck in Rosecreek with the team, I might as well get myself a sick PC. Forget playing games on this thing—I could man a fucking space shuttle from this room.
I pull out the chair, and that familiar rolling sound soothes something in my chest. I can’t stop myself from dreaming about Olivia, but I at least self-medicate with a dose of computer time every morning.
First, I check on the cyber security measures on all the pack servers. No attacks or unusual behaviors. Next, I check on my stocks.