Page 77

A smile tugged at her lips. “Yes,” she said softly, then louder, “yes, I’m willing to give this a try.”
The room erupted in cheers. Tai leapt up from his sprawl, sending a laptop clattering to the floor. Fenn whooped, completely forgetting about the camera he was supposed to be hiding. Bridger’s facepalm transformed into enthusiastic applause.
Cody’s face lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. He looked ready to sweep Paige into his arms, but she held up a hand, her expression turning serious.
“But,” she added, causing everyone to freeze mid-celebration, “we have to go slow. This is ... it’s a big step for both of us. We need to take our time, figure things out as we go.”
Cody nodded vigorously, relief and understanding washing over his features. “Absolutely. Completely. We’ll take it one day at a time, no pressure.”
“And no more jumpsuits,” Paige insisted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Virtual or not. I don’t think my retinas could take another glitter explosion like that.”
Cody laughed, a deep, rich sound that sent warmth spreading through Paige’s chest. “Deal. No more jumpsuits. Though I have to say, I rocked that space suit.”
“No jumpsuits ever again,” Tai groaned from his corner. “I solemnly swear to never code another sparkly outfit as long as I live.”
“Seconded,” Bridger chimed in.
“Motion carried,” Fenn added, finally setting down the camera. “Though I’ve got to say, that footage is going to make one hell of a wedding video someday.”
“Fenn!” the entire team chorused, but there was more laughter than admonishment in their voices.
Paige looked around at the smiling faces of her team—her family—and then back to Cody. His eyes were soft, filled with promise and a future she was suddenly eager to explore.
“So,” Cody said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Where do we go from here?”
Paige leaned into his touch. “How about we start with dinner? Just the two of us, no VR headsets required.”
“Sounds perfect,” Cody replied, his smile widening.
As the team started arguing good-naturedly about who would clean up the chocolate fountain mess, Paige and Cody stood in their own little bubble, hands still clasped. It wasn’t a fairy tale ending—it was messy, uncertain, and a little bit scary. But as Paige looked into Cody’s eyes, she knew it was real.
And that made it better than any virtual reality could ever be.
EPILOGUE
One month later…
Jason crouched behind a weathered hay bale, his breath coming in short, controlled bursts. The late afternoon sun beat down on the makeshift paintball arena, a patchwork of obstacles spread across a field on the team’s property outside of Redemption Creek. He could hear the muffled shouts and laughter of his teammates and the friends from town as they engaged in mock warfare.
He scanned the battlefield. Cody and Paige were tag-teaming behind an old tractor, their movements in perfect sync despite the chaos around them. Fenn had somehow managed to scale a tree, offering covering fire for Kate as she darted between obstacles. Tai was ... well, Tai was being Tai, dramatically rolling and somersaulting between shots, much to the amusement of Tenaya, who watched from the sidelines next to Jane.
A flash of movement caught his eye. Kellen, all of nine years old and full of boundless energy, was zigzagging across the field like a rabbit on espresso. The kid was a natural. He pushed the feelings aside, focusing on the game at hand.
Bridger’s voice boomed across the field. “Reload time, people! New ammo incoming!”
Jason frowned. They’d barely been playing for fifteen minutes. Why would they need to reload so soon? He watched as several of Bridger’s buddies from town started distributing new paintball canisters.
“Resume fire!” Bridger yelled, and chaos erupted once more.
It took Jason a moment to realize something was off. The air was filled with paint, but instead of the mix of colors from before, everything was ... pink. Brilliantly, unmistakably pink.
“Hey now—” he started, then ducked as a barrage of pellets whizzed over his head.
Confusion reigned on the battlefield. Cody emerged from behind the tractor, his face a mask of pink. “Did we switch teams?” he called out, bewildered.
Paige popped up beside him, pink paint dripping from one side of her goggles. “I don’t think that’s it.” She grinned.
Jason choked back a laugh, raised his hands in surrender, and promptly got pelted with a dozen pink paintballs for his trouble. Through the haze of pink mist, he saw Bridger and Jane and Kellen standing at the edge of the field. The adults wore shirts that read “Double Trouble” in glittering pink letters.