Bad Boy Ink (Get Ink'd #5) - Ali Lyda Page 0,56

but public speaking was one of them. Hence the relief at Bryce’s solid, stable presence at my side.

“And now my associate, Agent Aiden, will detail how the cause of death combined with emails from the doctor's office eliminate the alibis of the two primary suspects.”

In my periphery, I saw his body shift toward me and knew I was supposed to speak. Hands trembling, I held up my cards and took a deep breath. “As you can see...”

While I went through the details that we'd managed to pull from emails, texts, phone logs, and a pseudo-computer hard drive, Bryce was running through our PowerPoint presentation, which was projected on a large white screen behind us.

My throat was dry, and my voice was close to cracking by the time I reached the last details. With a huge exhale, I gratefully turned it back over to Bryce again.

“So as we’ve shown, the links are irrefutable, and we are a hundred percent certain that the perpetrators were both the wife and the doctor.”

We waited. My heart was a drum circle inside my chest, irregular with its pounding and rhythm and threatening to move its way into my throat. I'd skipped breakfast, which had driven Bryce crazy, but I knew I’d been right because if I had eaten, I'd be barfing.

The professor waited until I was ready to crawl out of my skin to stand up and begin to clap. “There you go, folks. The automatic A has been claimed. It was the wife and the doctor. Furthermore, this was one of the more difficult cases to solve because there were two perpetrators, which isn’t as common.”

The applause that came from our classmates was far less enthusiastic than the professor’s, but that didn't matter much. What mattered were his words, which I was still struggling to comprehend.

We’d done it.

My first instinct was to throw myself into Bryce's arms and kiss the absolute hell out of him. But I needed to be made of sterner stuff if I was meant to be an FBI agent, so instead I turned and shook his hand, managing to add an extra squeeze at the end to let him know that the moment meant far more to me than just a grade.

Elation buzzed through my limbs like I was made of neon lights as we went to sit. It was impossible to pay attention to the remainder of what the professor said. All I could think was that I'd done it. And the next step would be getting that job.

And then I was tasting bile, because with the A official and our teamwork behind us, the only thing that remained to bind us together was the singular job that both of us were vying for.

At the beginning of the semester, I’d thought that beating Bryce was sweet enough to be its own motivation. Now I couldn't stand the thought of beating him. Nor could I bear the possibility that he'd beat me.

At the end of class, the professor called Bryce and me over to his desk. “The two of you are welcome to continue in my class. However, most of the things we'll be going over are things you've already completed with competency while solving this case. So I'm basically giving you a pass, should you wish it.”

Bryce shook his head. “If it's all right with you, sir, I'd like to continue attending class. I really missed being in school and you never know if something new might come up between now and the end of the semester that I don't know about.”

I simply nodded my agreement.

The corner of the professor's mouth ticked up and I knew that we’d made the right choice. “Graduation will be here before you know it. Do you have any thoughts about what you’d like to do after school?”

Bryce and I spoke at the same time, our voices mumbling and jumbling as we said, “Technical and forensic analysts.”

The professor laughed at our exact words and similar inflections. “Well, it just so happens I have a friend who's an agent for the FBI. He works for the BAU. You may have seen him at the career fair last semester.”

I risked a quick glance at Bryce. Not only had we seen him at the fair, but we'd both known about the professor's connection. Hell, that was half the reason we'd pushed so hard on our assignment. How could the answer to my prayers suddenly feel like a curse?

“I want you both to know I can put in