Page 35 of Last Chance to Save the World

Fucking pretentious asshole—

“Ada,” Rian says.

I point to Fetor, and Rian turns, watching as the man moves to a roped-off section in front of the window. A worker wheels out a display stand with a big, shiny red button. Fetor makes a false move, pretending he’s going to hit the button early, and people gasp and reporters scramble to get their cam drones positioned for the best shot, but then Fetor laughs mockingly and steps back.

“Soon!” he calls. “For now, drink up!”

Fetor signals for the servers to distribute more bubbly, and he makes a grand show of visiting all his elite guests, a shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

Rian’s grip on my arms tightens. “Ada, swear to me that the bots are good now and that the malware is gone.”

I look him right in those razored eyes. “I swear to you, your mission was a success.”

And so was mine.

“The bots are good?” Urgency threads through every syllable.

I nod and wiggle free from his hold.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks.

“Chocolate fountain,” I say. I mean, obviously. I’ve showed remarkable restraint so far.

“Saving the world comes first,” he growls, pulling me back. I look down at his hand around my elbow, then back up at him, cold as ice. He drops my arm immediately, hands raised in defeat and apology. At least Rian’s trainable.

But he doesn’t let me leave our little empty spot against the wall. “The nanobots,” he says. “Were they—”

“Always in the server room, like you said they would be?” I say. “Yeah, obviously.”

Rian’s whole hand covers his face as he groans into his palm, then his fingers glide up his hair, loosening the locks so carefully combed into place.

Oh, I like this. I like to see him unraveling.

I like to be the one doing it.

“You made it sound like they were relocated,” he says in a low voice.

I nod. “Yes. Because I lied to you. Honestly, Rian, you should expect that of me by now.”

“But then why—”

I’m going to have to spell it out for him. “You wouldn’t have snuck me into Fetor’s communication tower if you knew I’d already set the program to run. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was a little anxiety-making to do that in fifteen minutes with a computerized voice yelling at me, but in the end, all I had to do was set the program up and walk away. Which I did.”

“And then you told me you didn’t,” Rian said. “Which is a little anxiety-making.”

“For you. I knew everything was fine.”

“Ada!” My name bursts from him, loud. Several nearby guests turn to look.

Might as well give ’em a show.

I throw my arms around his neck and kiss Rian right on the mouth. He’s so surprised that it takes him a moment to register my tongue before his lips part; he deepens the kiss, his arms gripping me around the back, lifting my body and pressing me into the wall. I hear several people nearby chuckle, one woman loudly leading her friend in the opposite direction of us.

Rian’s head ducks as his lips trail down my neck, sending a delicious shiver up my spine. “I know you’re up to something,” he whispers.

I tilt my head back until I hit the wall, exposing more of my neck. Rian’s left hand trails from the side of my neck down, fingers pressing into my back, bunching in the fabric as—for a moment—the game turns real, the desire turns liquid. He drags his mouth back up to my ear.

“So, you used me.”

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