Myrna answered her office phone on its second ring. "Doctor Myrna Evans, Psychology Department."
"Myrna. Ah. It's really you."
All the blood drained from her face. "Brian?"
"It's so good to hear your voice."
"How did you find me?"
"Trey looked you up on the Internet by checking the faculty lists of the universities around Kansas City. You aren't hard to find." He fell silent for a moment. "Are you mad that I called?"
She couldn't lie and pretend she was anything but delighted to hear from him. She was disturbed that she was so easy to find. She wasn't hiding from Brian, but there was another man she didn't want to find her. Ever.
"No," she said. "I'm not mad."
"Will you meet me somewhere?"
"What? Now? Are you in Kansas City?"
He chuckled. Her breath caught and her nipples tightened. How could the simple sound of his laugh turn her on?
"No, I'm in Oregon for the entire weekend. More tour dates. I'll send you a plane ticket."
"I can't just drop everything and get on a plane to Oregon."
"Why not?"
"I'm busy. I have this job, you see." This job that was quickly going down the tubes. She reached for the letter from the National Science Foundation and slid it into her top desk drawer. She didn't want to be bothered with thoughts of losing her grant funding. Not when she had Brian Sinclair's deep voice in her ear.
"You don't get weekends off?"
"Most of the time."
"Are you working this weekend?"
"Not necessarily."
"Then what's the problem?"
She hesitated. Eh, why not? She could really use a short break from this place. Maybe a couple of days away would clear her head and she could figure out what to do about her current predicament. "You haven't sent me a ticket yet."
"Fuck," he murmured.
Disappointment made her heart drop to her toes. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing. I'm just standing outside the stadium to get better phone reception and have been recognized by a group of fans. Bad timing. I have a raging hard-on, thanks to you, and can't run very fast."
"As long as it's thanks to me," she said, laughing.
Some chick squealed in the background, "Oh my God! Oh my God! It's Master Sinclair!"
Myrna laughed.
"Could you hold on just a minute? I'm on the phone," he said to someone.
"Oh my God! Will you sign my tits? Please. Please. You're soooo hot! Where's Sed?"
"They always want Sed," Brian said to Myrna. "Let me get away from these girls and I'll call you back with your flight information."
"Okay."
"Great."
"And Brian?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"Hey," a whiny girl said in the background. "Who are you calling baby? Do you have a girlfriend?"
Myrna shook her head. She didn't know how he put up with it. "It's great to hear your voice, too."
"I'm glad," he said quietly. "I'll call you back."
He disconnected and she sat back in her office chair, listening to dead air until the phone began to beep at her. She hung up. It had been almost a month since they'd parted in Des Moines. She missed him and regretted not staying in contact with him, though she hadn't realized how much until that moment. When the phone rang almost an hour later, She was still staring off into space with a stupid grin on her face.
"Can you be on a plane in four hours?" Brian asked.
"Four hours? I'm still at work."
"Well, I realize that. I did call your work number."
She laughed. She hadn't laughed this much in… a month. "It's Thursday. I have to work tomorrow."
"Call in sick."
"Call in sick?" She never called in sick. Not even when she was sick.
"I'm not worth a sick day?"
"I don't know. Are you?"
He chuckled. "You sure don't make this easy on a guy. Our concert isn't until Saturday night, so I thought we could spend all day tomorrow getting reacquainted."
Reacquainted? Yeah, they'd need at least a day. Her gaze drifted to the huge stack of her students' final papers. She'd been grading them when Brian had called. One sick day wouldn't hurt. She could finish her grading by Tuesday, when final grades were due. "Where am I flying?"
"Portland." She could hear the smile in his voice.
"What's the flight number?"
"Fuck."
"What's wrong now?"
"I thought I had that hard-on under control. Turns out I was wrong."
She laughed.
"God, I want you," he whispered. "Laugh again."
"I can't laugh when I try." She did laugh though, because she was incredibly happy.
"Do you have something to write on?"
She reached for a pen. "Yeah." She wrote down the e-ticket information he read to her. After she hung up, she shut down her computer and locked her office. She walked out of the office suite and stopped at the department secretary's desk.
"Gladys, I'm going home early. I don't feel well."
Gladys's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're sick?"
"Yeah. I probably won't be in tomorrow either."
"That's too bad. I hope you feel better."
"Thanks."
"Oh, here's your mail." Gladys handed her a stack of mail.
Myrna tucked it into her purse and headed to the airport. She didn't bother packing any luggage. She didn't have time. Besides, it wasn't like she would need clothes.