Page 14 of One Reckless Night

“Modesty’s overrated. Confidence gets results. Besides, you’re one to talk. I read your thesis. You didn’t exactly tiptoe around your findings.”

I felt a flicker of pride but kept my expression neutral. “When you’re right, you’re right. No point sugarcoating it.”

“Exactly,” he said, pointing at me like I’d just proven his point. “See? We’re already on the same page. That’s why I knew you’d fit in here.”

“Or maybe you just recognized another ego that could rival yours,” I shot back, unable to resist.

We continued down the hall, passing what looked like a break room filled with researchers sipping coffee and chatting. Jared gestured toward it as we walked by. “That’s the unofficial brainstorming hub,” he said. “Some of our best ideas come when people are just shooting the breeze.”

The more I listened to him, the more I felt drawn to him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had formulated that scent he was wearing to increase arousal in women, like it was filled with pheromones. Seriously, no one could smell that good by accident. And the way he talked—confident but not cocky, like he actually meant every word. Ugh, it was unfair. My brain knew better, but my body? Yeah, it was definitely not on the same page.

But I reminded myself that this was Jared Welch—a man with a reputation as big as his ego. He was a player, through and through, and I wasn’t about to let myself get caught up in whatever game he was playing.

Still, as we walked, I couldn’t ignore the tension between us. The way he leaned in slightly when he spoke, the way his eyes lingered on me a little too long. It was subtle, but it was there. It wasn’t workplace harassment—more like a healthy admiration. And as much as I hated to admit it, I felt it too.

“This way,” he said. “I’ll show you your lab.”

I was expecting a cramped space like the labs I had worked in before. I didn’t mind small workspaces. They were just as effective.

But when Jared opened the door, I froze. The space was massive, filled with cutting-edge equipment and bathed in natural light from the tinted windows that gave me an amazing view of the ocean. There were workstations, a fully stocked supply closet, and even a small sitting area with a coffee machine.

“How many researchers do I share the space with?” I asked.

“None, this is your lab,” Jared said, his voice casual, like he hadn’t just handed me the keys to my own personal kingdom. “You’ve got a list of assistants to choose from, but I already have a few people begging to work with you. Apparently, your research has quite the fan club.”

I was too stunned to respond. I walked further into the lab, running my hand over the countertops and taking in every detail. This was more than I’d ever dreamed of. Back in England, I’d been lucky to have a corner of a shared lab. And now? I had an entire space dedicated to my work. It was overwhelming.

Jared watched me. “You okay?” he asked after a moment. “Is this lab not sufficient?”

I shook my head, swallowing hard. “No, it’s very generous. It’s just a lot to take in.”

He smirked. “You’ll get used to it.”

He wandered around the lab pointing out various equipment. “The windows are tinted to block sunlight but just push this button to close the blinds.”

I felt like I was having an out of body experience. How could this be real?

“Okay,” I managed to get out.

“If you need anything, just let me know. Special equipment or access to files, whatever you need.”

I turned to face him, my gratitude outweighing my usual reserve. “Thank you,” I said. “This is… this was my dream.”

He tilted his head, studying me. “Why?”

The question caught me off guard. I wasn’t ready to tell him about my mom, or my dad, or the accident that had changed everything. I wasn’t ready to share the parts of my life that had driven me to this field, to this moment. I wanted to be known for my work, not my past. I didn’t want to be one of those people that flashed their grief and mourning card to get special attention. “I just always wanted to make a difference, I guess. As you said, the brain is still one of life’s great mysteries.”

He didn’t push, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely satisfied with my answer. Instead, he tapped his knuckles against the counter and said, “Well, get to work, then. I expect a Nobel prize from you within five years.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll do it in three.”

“I love that confidence,” he said, his smirk softening into something warmer. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the air between us felt charged. Then he straightened, breaking the moment. “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything.”

As he walked out of the lab, I felt a strange mix of emotions. He left me alone in this beautiful, overwhelming space, and I couldn’t help but feel a little lost.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling. This was my moment. My dream.

I moved toward the nearest workstation and opened one of the drawers to find it meticulously organized, every tool and piece of glassware in its place and carefully labeled. This was where I belonged. I just had to accept it—and not waste this opportunity getting distracted by hunky boys.