Page 109 of Easy Love


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“I’mnot.”

At least, I didn’t used tobe.

I drop into a chair intended for hours of comfort, which I can immediately say falls short. I shift to prop my arm up along the backrest, glancing at a boy wearing headphones, his head on one seat and his feet hanging off the bank ofchairs.

“What time does your flight get in?” sheasks.

“Onea.m.”

“I could meet you atLaGuardia.”

I let out a laugh. “At one? Don’t you have a client pitchtomorrow?”

“Yes.”

I raise a brow pointedly at the screen. “Now who’s being sentimental,” I murmur. But my chesttightens.

Because like I told the associate dean, I feel like she’s my girlfriend. More than that, I think I loveher.

“Wes? Youfroze.”

I shakemyself.

I’m inlove.

I’ve spent the last day traveling to and giving the job talk I’ve been working toward my entire life, and in this moment, I don’t want to tell my colleagues. My past classmates orfriends.

I want to tellher.

The woman I have nothing in common with. The one who makes me relax and laugh—even at myself. Who critiques eighties movies with me and helps me and turns me on like it’s herjob.

All the more reason not to be selfish rightnow.

“No. Don’t meet me at the airport. Go do your pitch,” I tell her. “Let’s meet after work tomorrow. For adrink.”

If I see her alone, there’s no way I’ll be able to keep my hands off her long enough to have aconversation.

“Deal. And Wes? I’m sending you a comb video. Download it now. It’ll help you sleep on theplane.”

I laugh. “Thanks.”

By the time the jet lifts off the tarmac and I see Seattle retreating under cloud cover, it doesn’t feel as though I’m leaving home to go somewhere I don’t want tobe.

* * *

Despite the late arrival,I get into school early the nextmorning.

I glance at my email, intending to formulate a response back to Ben to tell him thanks for speaking and I understand that hepassed.

Another email grabs myeye.

Dr. Robinson, itstarts.

Words like “contamination” and “data” and “methodologies” and “our utmost to recover lostdata.”

But ice is flowing through my veins. Basically, it means that my past six months of research samples could becontaminated.

It’s every researcher’snightmare.

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