The nurse’s voice was sympathetic. “I’m calling to inform you that your mother was admitted into our care after suffering a major heart attack.”
Fear gripped her. A heart attack? Her mother was an older woman, but she was strong and healthy. Or she had been. Oh God. The world lost focus as she took in the rest of the information. Her mother was alive and in recovery. She was sleeping now and most of the time, a side effect of the medicines she was on. Yes, Erin would be able to visit her mother if she arrived before visiting hours were over.
Erin’s thoughts came wild and unordered, matching the state of her room. Her clothes were strewn across the floor and bed. She grabbed a few tops and a pair of jeans and stuffed them into her backpack. In a sort of trance, she walked to her car and slipped her key into the ignition.
Nothing happened.
She took out her key and tried again. The engine turned over and then stalled. Her old, trusty rustbucket had finally given out and at the worst possible time. She tried three more times, but the car had well and truly given up.
Feeling sick, she struggled to focus. The most important thing was to get to her mother. She could deal with the repairs later. But how could she get there? The drive was four hours away. The one time she’d had to take the transit bus from her city to the college, after Doug had left her, the trip had taken twice that long from all the stops in between.
Her mind spun, running through all the options she had and coming up empty. She didn’t mind being alone, not really, but times like now, it did hurt. Except she wasn’t alone.
Blake.
He would know the answer. He’d asked her to find him if she needed him, and she did.
She suddenly couldn’t wait to be near him, to lean on his strength and feel his embrace. Any attempt to shield herself had been in vain. She was already his, under his domain and beholden—and it was exactly where she wanted to be. It had nothing to do with where her body resided. In times of fear and worry, her heart turned to him.
* * *
Blake took a
swig of his cocktail. The sweet syrup clung to his tongue and the liquor burned his throat, but drinking still beat mingling. He’d already had to tell the story of his scars twice, and he wasn’t eager to tell it a third time.
He gave a scrubbed version, of course. The real thing wasn’t fit for the string quartet or the gowns of the Faculty Ball, though that fact didn’t deter them from asking. His scars were so
interesting
, they said, as if it were the best compliment—and to a group of strident intellectuals, perhaps it was. They took his refusals as modesty first and rudeness second, until he’d resignedly told some whitewashed account of what had happened.
“There you are.” The slurred words came from behind him. Jeremy Mosely, the dean of his department and his boss for the semester, approached unsteadily.
Blake wished he could stand the signature cocktail well enough to get drunk. “Jeremy. Good seeing you.”
He grinned. “Hah, I know you’ve been avoiding me.”
Even sloshed, the man was smart. “Sorry. I’ve been a little distracted.”
“Not too distracted. I heard your semester went great.” He looked smug. “I know you’re thinking about renewing your contract. I’ll give you a few days to think about it before I do the hard sell on you.”
Damn, the man was right again. He had been considering it…once he and Erin were settled. Once she moved in with him.
If
she moved in with him. He took another drink, wincing at the sickly sweet flavor.
“Disgusting, I know,” Jeremy continued. “I have a secret stash, if you’re up for it.”
“I was thinking of heading out soon.”
It was ten o’clock. Not exactly late, but he wanted to get to bed at a reasonable time and see Erin in the morning. He had a full suite of activities planned for her that would require most of the hours in the day and most of the surfaces in his house.
“No, come on. The night’s still young.”
“Maybe, but I’m not.”
“Please, you’re the youngest guy in the room. A couple of guys were going to the faculty basement. Bet you never heard about that when you were a student here.”
Curiosity nudged him. “Okay, what’s the faculty basement? And if you tell me whips and chains, I’m definitely not going with you.”
Jeremy snorted. “Well, it’s going to sound boring compared to that. It’s a recreation room for professors. Sort of a
members only
type of thing. There’s nice furniture, good liquor, and a pool table that’s been here since the university’s inception.”
“Huh.” This he did want to see. He’d always had a soft spot for the school, ever since he was a wide-eyed freshman. It amused him to realize there were new things to discover in a place he’d been for so many years. Blake eyed the room, catching a few curious glances his way as he did. “Let’s go.”
They rounded up a couple of tenured professors that Blake had met before and headed two buildings over and downstairs into the basement. He had promised Erin, and himself, that he would try to rejoin society. That meant more than clocking in and out of a job, whatever it was. It meant the rare social occasion like this. He looked forward to the time Erin would join him at parties like this. If he was going to sneak out of the party early and into some dimly lit recess, he’d far rather be doing it with her.
Inside the faculty basement, there were thick leather armchairs that made him feel like wearing a smoking jacket. The other guys started up a game on the green felt pool table in the corner, but Jeremy came to sit by him. There was something he wanted to talk about, but Blake could be patient. He accepted the offered glass of whiskey and a cigar.
Jeremy settled in opposite him and was quiet for a moment. “I heard you and Melinda Jenkins used to be an item,” he said.
Blake raised his eyebrows. “What of it?”
“Just wondering if there’s anything still between you two.”
Christ. First his goddamn battle scars had to be story time for the group, now he’d been lured by alcohol to talk about his past lovelorn humiliation. Being back in society was a laugh a minute.
“No. It’s over. Very much so.”
“Good to hear it.”
Blake raised his eyebrows. “Why, is there some sort of policy against intradepartmental dating?”
Jeremy laughed shortly. “I hope not. I was thinking of asking her out.”
“Oh.” Well, that put a new spin on their shared nightcap.
A sideways glance. “So, what do you think?”
“About you and Melinda? I think nothing about that. Whatsoever.”
“You must think something. You think she’s too hot for me?”
“The thought hadn’t crossed my mind.” At least he could be honest about that.
“Well, come on. Give me something here. I was just about to make a move when I found out about you two. When I realized I might have invited my biggest competition inside. I heard she talked to you, too.”
Hmm. He trusted Melinda’s word not to spill about him and Erin, but it would be best not to stir this pot too strongly.
He pretended to think about it. And then he actually did think about it. Mosely was a smart guy, and he seemed ambitious enough. Melinda could help support him. Blake was no matchmaker, but it wasn’t a bad setup.
He shrugged. “What the hell do I know?”
“Thanks, man. Real encouraging.”
A surprised laugh burst from him. He supposed he really had been out of the loop for too long. He’d forgotten how to be a friend.
“Shit. Sorry.” He leaned forward, staring into his drink. The sight of amber-colored liquid reminded him of his morning with Erin a few weeks ago, and God, what a morning that had been. He couldn’t wait to repeat it. Preferably every morning from now on.
Forever. The thought should have scared him, being a standard fare red-blooded male. But the thought of
not forever
, of losing her, was the real threat. He would make it official and ask her to marry him, but he might scare her away. Asking her to move in had already been a big step, and she hadn’t said yes yet. She was still young. He felt vaguely guilty tying her down. Just not guilty enough to stop.
Besides, he knew better than anyone that putting a ring on her finger wouldn’t guarantee anything. It hadn’t with Melinda. All he and Erin had to offer each other was one day at a time. For the first time, he thought it might be enough.
“You should ask her out,” he finally said. “Even if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll have given it a chance. It’s better than not living.”
The other man studied him. “That sounds like the voice of experience.”
“It is, and you were one of the people who helped bring me back. I owe you for that.”
Jeremy clapped him on the shoulder. “Then come to work for me. A permanent position. The board will approve it in a heartbeat.”
Ah, it seemed they’d arrived at the hard sell portion of the evening. What the hell, he’d known what his answer would be. Teaching was too damn fun. So was living, he had found.
He took a swig of the expensive liquor. It went down smooth. “Then I accept.”
F
eeling frantic and
dizzy with worry, Erin dialed and redialed Blake’s cell phone. He wasn’t picking up at home either, but she took a chance that he’d fallen asleep quickly. The cab fare was thirty dollars just to get from her apartment to his empty, dark house. Damn. The Faculty Ball had ended at eleven and it was already midnight, so where was he? She had a flash of panic. What if he were hurt? What if he’d had something to drink and he’d been driving and… no.
Calm down.
That was the kind of thing that happened in movies, like in
An Affair to Remember
. Blake was fine. If he did drink, he was probably waiting somewhere until he sobered up enough to drive.
His office, she realized. He might even be there to finish up paperwork or clear out his books. It was the type of thing he might do, avoiding socializing under the pretense of some work task. Especially if things had gone poorly. Damn, now she was worried about that too. Her worry was strung up tight like the string of a bow, pulled back and ready to fire. If only she had a damn target.
She returned to the waiting cab and shut the door. “Campus, please.”
“You got it.”
The fare ticked higher as they retraced their steps back toward the university. She’d check the office. He
had
to be there. Because if he wasn’t, she had no idea where he could be, and she had no other plan.
“Any chance you guys go out of town?” she asked the cab driver.
“Sure. Where you headed?” When she told him the name of her hometown, he plugged it into his GPS. “That’d be a flat rate trip. Looks like $450 to get you there.”
She almost groaned. Four hundred dollars? Her bank account had that much—but barely. She’d wipe it clean and have nothing left to fix her car with when she got back.
When they arrived at the campus checkpoint, she hurriedly paid him, hesitantly adding a tip from her meager stash. If she ended up taking the bus, that would deplete her cash reserves entirely, and it would be tomorrow by the time she arrived. The cab drove away, leaving her in a cloud of smog. She didn’t have a ride to the bus station now either. She was running out of options.
The buildings appeared deserted as she walked quickly by. Moonlight bounced off the pale stone surfaces. She had been here a few times at night for study groups, but now, after the summer semester had ended, no one lingered. She had no idea where on campus the Faculty Ball was being held, but that was probably for the best. Even desperate, she knew better than to crash a party and potentially expose their relationship.
The wide metal doors she normally used to get inside that building were locked. She circled around and found a side door open. Pushing it open, she blinked into the darkness. It didn’t take long to figure out that his office was also dark, and empty. He wasn’t here. It had been a thin hope anyway.
Feeling a knot of fear for her mother, she wandered outside and sat down on a bench. The grounds were picturesque on the historical campus. Gorgeous lawns and famous statues. She didn’t see any of it. Ancient oak trees and architectural features blurred in front of her.
This was her nightmare. Knowing her mother needed her and being unable to get there. Three hundred miles felt a continent away. And even once she arrived, she wouldn’t be able to do anything useful. She wouldn’t be able to fix her mom’s heart. She wouldn’t be able to pay the medical bills. Useless.
Helpless.
A trill of laughter from around the corner caught her attention. Then a male voice answered. Damn, she recognized that voice. Wiping her eyes, she sat up straighter.
Please, let him walk past.
Tonight luck had abandoned her completely. Her old boyfriend Doug wandered nearer, half dragging an unsteady girl. Other voices bounced off the walls farther away, and she knew they were his friends. Doug always preferred to travel with a group, even when he was with his girlfriend—which had been her, once upon a time.
“Erin? Is that you?”
Damn. She tried to keep her voice from wavering. “Hey. What’s up?”
“What’s up is I’m happy to see you. Goddamn, Erin Raider.” He sounded genuinely happy to see her, and not even drunk. She wondered if he had drawn the designated driver short stick. He turned to the girl on his arm. “Go join the others. I’ll catch up in a minute.” She wandered in the direction of the voices, her stilettos sticking in the lawn.
Knowledge pierced Erin’s worried haze. “Wait, what are you doing here?” she asked Doug. “Don’t tell me you came back for grad school?”
He snorted. “Nah. It’s one of my friend’s brother’s birthday so we hit the bars nearby. I’m just along to keep the little kiddos from hurting themselves.”
From somewhere, she found the levity to tease him. “You’re the chaperone? What is this world coming to?”
“That’s what I said, but according to them, I’ve lost my edge. I’m all responsible and grown up and boring now.”
“Welcome to the club,” she said dryly.