“Huh?”

Trey punched him in the arm. “Myrna, you retard. Cal her.”

“I don’t have her number. Besides, she doesn’t want to see me.” He ducked his head to stare at his boots.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Trey said. “And you could get her number if you real y wanted to.”

He laughed. “I don’t even know her last name.”

“Where is she from?”

“Kansas City,” he said automatical y, but Trey already knew that. Brian couldn’t stop talking about her, so Trey knew more about Myrna than he could possibly want to know.

“And she’s a professor, so she has to work at a col ege around there.”

“So?”

“And there are only so many human sexuality professors at those col eges. Maybe one or two at each, right?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

“Myrna isn’t a very common name. And even if every human sexuality professor in the Kansas City area were named Myrna, you could stil cal them al until you found her.”

“She’l be majorly pissed if I cal her,” Brian said, though hope fluttered through his aching heart.

“So what? If she tel s you off, then maybe you’l get her out of your system, and if she doesn’t, then we’l get to see you happy again. Shit, the whole band is suffering because of this funk you’re in. We need you, you know. You’re our glue.”

Brian sighed loudly. “Al right, I get it. I’l try to find her.”

Trey rubbed his hand vigorously over Brian’s hair until Brian leaned away, his scalp tingling.

“No need. I already have.” Trey handed Brian a piece of paper with a phone number scrawled on it. Lefties and their scarcely legible handwriting. “Here’s her work number. Her home phone is apparently unlisted.”

“How’d you get this?”

“Internet. Her last name is Evans, by the way. Her picture was in the faculty directory.”

Picture? He’d have to check it out later. See if she was as beautiful as he remembered. “When did you do this?”

“About a week ago.”

Brian scowled. “And you wait until now?”

“I thought maybe you’d get over her.”

Brian stared down at the slip of paper. “Now I just have to get up the nerve to have my heart shredded again.”

“Don’t take too long,” Trey said. “I mean seriously. I’ve never seen you like this. Not for this long.”

“Myrna’s different.”

Trey snorted and laughed as if they were back in the fifth grade. “You’ve got it bad, Sinclair.”

Chapter 12

Myrna answered her office phone on its second ring. “Doctor Myrna Evans, Psychology Department.”

“Myrna. Ah. It’s real y you.”

Al 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 fel silent for a moment. “Are you mad that I cal ed?”

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.”

“Wil you meet me somewhere?”

“What? Now? Are you in Kansas City?”

He chuckled. Her breath caught and her ni**les 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’l 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 real y 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! Wil 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’l cal you back with your flight information.”

“Okay.”

“Great.”

“And Brian?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Hey,” a whiny girl said in the background. “Who are you cal ing 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’l cal 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 stil 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 stil at work.”