Page 322 of The Winslow Brothers

Ty smirks, crooking a finger at me and announcing to the class, “Looks like we have a volunteer. Ms. Rose, why don’t you put your sweater back on and come up here.”

Ohhhhh. Put my sweater back on?Ha. That’s cute.

And what if I don’t want to put my sweater back on? No one told Jennifer Aniston to put a sweater on when she was on theset ofFriends. Hell, you could see her nipples on every freaking episode.

I might not be Rachel Green, but I amRachelRose. And you know what Rachel Rose doesn’t like? She doesn’t like when men try to tell her what to do.

Anger starts to roll around in my belly when I let his words marinate inside my brain.The nerve of this man to try to cover me up.What if I don’t want to be covered up? I’m a grown-ass woman, and I can wear whatever the hell I want,showwhatever I want.

Patriarchy rules be damned.

“Do you guys think I should put my sweater back on?” I ask the class, damn near blurting out the question before I realize what I’m saying. I almost feel shame over my audacity and apparent temporary insanity of forgetting that I’m in a class filled with college-aged boys, but when Ty’s jaw practically hits the top of his fancy shoes and said college boys in the class offer their enthusiastic opinion ofNo, I can’t stop myself from taking the proverbial ball and volleying it right back to Ty.

“Looks like you’re in the minority, Professor,” I say and climb from my seat, smoothing my skirt down my legs and pointedly leaving my sweater behind.

He clenches his jaw, and the look in his eyes is a mixture of shock and anger, but I don’t let it falter my steps. I strut right toward him while holding his eyes in challenge. I intend to stop within only a couple of inches of him, but as soon as I get within a couple of feet, he stumbles back in a hurry and rounds the room to the other side, pointing to indicate that I should stand in the spot he’s vacated.

I smother a smile.

“Okay, guys. I want you to look at Ms. Rose and give me some body-positive descriptors that you think might be found in classic literature.” The class titters and several hands shoot up, but Ty doesn’t call on anyone right away. Instead, he adds a warning. “Remember to keep it respectful. Anyone who chooses not to listen to that will get one hundred points removed from their final semester grade.”

A couple of hands go down immediately, and it’s all I can do not to roll my eyes as some of the class laughs.

“Yeah, David,” Ty says, pointing at one of the more innocent freshmen in the front row who still has his hand up.

“Glowing. Healthy,” David offers, and I smile. Okay, that’s a nice start.

“Good. How about you, Amber?” Ty asks, calling on one of the girls who already had her nipples out before me.

“The sun,” Amber says, honestly shocking me by being kind. I half expected her to be angry she wasn’t the one getting the attention from the professor.

“Ah, yes,” Ty crows with a smile. “I see someone paid attention while we were reading Tolstoy. Good job, Amber, you get a kiss.” He grabs a Hershey’s kiss from the shelf at the side of the room and tosses it her way, and she practically drowns herself in the compliments.

That’s when it makes sense why she didn’t go for mean.

“Henry,” Ty calls, picking a guy who always sits in the middle of the back row. “Impress me.”

Henry looks me up and down, to the point that I wish I could reach out and steady myself with a hand to a hard surface to prepare for whatever is about to come out of his mouth.

Please don’t make it inappropriate. Please. Please. Please.

“Smokeshow,” he proudly proclaims.

Oh boy.Suddenly, the roomisfeeling cold, and I’m acutely aware of just how many eyes are on me.You’re also feeling a lot like you never should have taken off your sweater.

“Ah, man.” Ty lets out a low wolf whistle. “There goes one hundred points right out the window!”

“What? Wait!” Henry looks around with big, shocked eyes. “That’s respectful, Professor! It means she’s beautiful. Attractive. How is that bad?”

The whole class dissolves into laughter at poor Henry’s expense, and Ty shakes his head with a smirk, glancing at me briefly. “Okay, fine. I’m letting you go with a warning. This is your one free pass, my man.”

Henry breathes out a sigh of relief and sags back into his chair.

And I fidget my fingers against my skirt as my palms start to grow oddly sweaty.

“And while I think we can all agree with your assessment of Ms. Rose’s beauty, Henry,” Ty continues, “I have my doubts that we’d find any uses of the word ‘smokeshow’ in classic literature. Frankly, if that’s how you choose to describe women you’re interested in, prepare yourself for years of rejection.”

The whole class erupts again, and Ty takes that opportunity to offer me the chance to take my seat. His extended arm is all the invitation I need, and I head back to my spot, ready to put my cardigan back on.

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