038

My head feels like it’s wrapped in cotton wool, but inside the cotton, someone is playing a high-pitched frequency that won't stop.

I’m lying on the sofa in the penthouse living room, shielding my eyes from the daylight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Even the dust motes look too bright.

Alex is sitting on the floor next to me, his back against the couch. He’s rubbing his temples, a bottle of aspirin sitting between us like a peace offering. The red marks behind our ears—burns from the electrodes—are throbbing reminders of how close we flew to the sun.

"We almost fried our brains," I whisper, my voice raspy. "For an orgasm."

"For science," Alex corrects weakly, though a corner of his mouth twitches. "But mostly for the orgasm."

I reach down and thread my fingers through his hair. He leans into my touch instantly. We are raw. Exposed. The neural link stripped away the last of our defenses, and now we’re just two people recovering from a lightning strike.

"Analysis compl