Voice Only
PAT
Thursday morning, the phone rang at six-forty-one instead of six-forty-three.
I smiled before I even answered. "You're early, Burns."
"Couldn't sleep."
His voice was rougher than usual, like he really hadn't slept. Or maybe like he'd been thinking about things that kept him awake.
I leaned back in my chair and pulled up his assignment. "Restless again?"
"Something like that."
"Lake too loud?"
"Lake was fine." He paused. "I went swimming after my shift yesterday."
"How was it?"
"Cold. Cleared my head."
I bit my lip to keep from smiling too wide. "What's got you wound up?"
"You really want to know?"
"I asked, didn't I?"
Another pause, longer this time, deliberate. "I keep thinking about Saturday."
The party. Of course.
I'd been thinking about it too. More than I wanted to admit.
"It's just a lake party," I said lightly. "Nothing fancy. Beer and burgers and people pretending they're better at volleyball than they actually are."
"That's not what I meant."
"No?"
"No." His voice dropped lower. "I meant I keep thinking about finally seeing you."
Oh.
That was direct.
That was new.
I should probably deflect. Keep it playful. Remind him that this was just phone flirtation and didn't need to mean anything beyond that.
Instead, I said, "You've been picturing me?"
"For three weeks now."
"And?"
"And I have no idea if I'm even close."
"What do you think I look like?"
"I don't know. Tall, maybe. Confident. The kind of woman who walks into a room and everyone notices."
I laughed. "You're half right."
"Which half?"
"I'm not telling you. You'll find out Saturday."
"That's cruel, Pat."
"I know." I spun my chair slightly, looking out the window at the early morning light. "What if I'm not what you're expecting?"
"What if you are?"
"Then what?"
"Then I'll probably spend the entire party trying not to stare."
Heat bloomed in my chest. "You're getting better at this."
"Told you I was a fast learner."
"Dangerously fast."
"Is that a problem?"
"Depends on what you're learning for."
He was quiet for a beat. Then: "What do you want me to be learning for?"
God, his voice. The way he asked questions like he actually wanted the answers. Like he wasn't just flirting for sport.
"I don't know yet," I said honestly. "You're seasonal. You leave in September."
"I do."
"So this is just summer."
"Is it?"
"Isn't it?"
"You tell me."
I didn't have an answer for that. Didn't know how to explain that I'd been enjoying this, the calls, the banter, the way he made me feel seen even though he'd never actually looked at me.
"Elliot," I said.
"Yeah?"
"We should probably talk about your trail assignment."
"Probably."
"You're on the northern loop today. Estimated eight hours. Light traffic expected."
"Copy that."
But neither of us hung up.
"Pat?" he said after a moment.
"Still here."
"What are you doing right now?"
"Sitting at my desk. Updating logs. Drinking coffee that's gone cold."
"It's already hot there?"
"It will be. Upper eighties by noon."
"How do you cool off?"
The question was innocent enough. But the way he asked it wasn't.
"I don't," I said. "I just suffer through it like everyone else."
"You could go swimming."
"I'm working."
"After work, then."
"Maybe."
"Where would you go?"
"There's a spot near the north access. Quiet. No one really uses it except locals."
"Is the water cold?"
"Cold enough."
"Cold enough for what?"
I smiled. "To make you think twice before diving in."
"I like cold water."
"I know. You told me."
"Right." He sounded pleased that I'd remembered. "Did it sound appealing?"
"Swimming?"
"Yeah."
"It always sounds appealing when it's this hot."
"Maybe you should go tonight."
"Maybe I will."
"Think you'll see anyone you know?"
"Doubtful. It's pretty isolated."
"Good."
"Why good?"
"Because if you did go," he said slowly, "and if I happened to be there too, hypothetically, it'd be nice to have some privacy."
My pulse kicked.
"Hypothetically," I said carefully, "if we were both there at the same time, what would happen?"
"I'd probably introduce myself properly."
"We've been talking for three years. I think we're past introductions."
"Not in person."
"Fair point."
"And then," he continued, voice dropping even lower, "I'd probably ask if the water was as cold as you said."
"And if I said yes?"
"I'd suggest we test it together."
Heat curled low in my stomach. "That's very forward, Burns."
"Too forward?"
"I didn't say that."
He made a sound, half laugh, half something else. "You're trouble, Pat."
"I've been told."
"I believe it."
"Good." I glanced at the clock. Almost seven. Other team members would be calling in soon, and I needed to be professional for them. "You should get moving. Daylight's burning."
"Right." He didn't sound like he wanted to hang up either. "Pat?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm looking forward to Saturday."
"Me too."
I ended the call and sat there for a moment, staring at nothing, heart beating faster than it should've been.
I was already thinking about the lake. About what it would feel like to meet him there after dark, when no one else was around.
About whether his hands were as steady as his voice.
My phone buzzed. Text from Ember, one of the admin staff: You coming to the party Saturday?
I typed back: Yes.
She sent back a string of party emojis, and I shook my head, smiling despite myself.
Saturday. Two more days.
Two more days until I'd see the man who'd been making me think about cold water and hypothetical meetings and all the ways a voice could make you want things you hadn't planned on wanting.
I took a sip of my cold coffee and pulled up the next assignment.
But I was already counting down the hours.