Page 346 of The Winslow Brothers

“You wound me, Ms. Rose.”

She pushes her lips to mine and reaches around to grab my ass, shaking her head. “No, Professor. Ichallengeyou.”

Now that’s a promise I hope she keeps.

Thursday, February 14th

Rachel

Waking up today—after two straight days of sex with Ty—feels different from every other day I’ve woken up in New York. My longing for something, my search for feeling at home, it’s oddly…missing.

I’m not naïve enough to think Ty is the answer to everything I need in life, but whatever that restless thing inside me was—whatever was egging me on every time we engaged in a game of push and pull—it’s quieted.

This morning, I can hear the birds. I can hear the city. And if I listen really closely, I can hear my mom.

Don’t worry, I don’t hear her, like, actually speaking to me from the dead—that would be a creepy sexual side effect—but I can feel her presence, here, with me.

I thought the fact that today is Valentine’s Day might cause an awkward stir inside me, or maybe cause some discomfort in Ty, but with the way we left things last night, dirty texting well after midnight, I’d say we’re both feeling pretty unfazed.

I grab my bag from the counter and head downstairs to the bakery to find Lydia and Lou having their morning coffee together at one of the tables now that the initial rush of the day is over.

They look at each other the way my mom always looked at my dad, and I couldn’t be more thrilled for them that they were able to find the one person who puts them at ease.

I’ve never seen them have a real fight, and trust me, I would have if they were having them. Bakery weekends are just about the seventh portal of retail hell, and they both still do it, after this many years, with a smile on their faces.

It’s impressive, really, and I can only dream of one day being that emotionally stable. I come by the craziness honestly, though—I’ve been this way my entire life.

Maybe it was being the youngest sibling, maybe it was losing my mom during some of my most crucial years, or maybe it’s just the way I was made, but I’m not the kind of gal who knows she’s doing the right or wrong thing right away. I’m the poor sap who has to find everything out the hard way.

I settle down in a chair at the table with Lydia and Lou and throw my brown leather gloves on the marble top. The two of them smile at me even with the screech of the chair legs caused by my abrupt movements, and I lean into my elbows on the table after I’ve taken a seat. “So, what time are we doing…you know…the thing?” I ask Lydia, knowing it’s incredibly stupid that I still can’t say the actual wordsgoing to visit Mom’s graveafter all these years.

She doesn’t criticize, though, instead giving me the space I need and an answer too. “I think Dad said around two. It’s supposed to sleet later or something, so he doesn’t want to wait too late.”

I’m supposed to be in class with Ty at two, but hell, maybe this is better. With what I have planned for the two of us today, it’s better if we don’t see each other beforehand.

I pull out my phone to text him about it, and then I think better of it when I see Lydia and Lou both watching me closely. I tuck my phone back into my pocket and state nonchalantly, “Okay. I’ll have to let Professor Winslow know I won’t be in class, but it shouldn’t be a big deal. I can send him an email or something.”

“Professor Winslow, huh?” Lou teases. “So, have we officially moved on from the panties?”

I nod, humming my answer instead of saying it for the purposes of plausible deniability. “Things are good.”

I feel a little bad not giving them the whole rundown—I know they wouldn’t be judgmental—but there’s something about staying in a tiny little bubble with Ty and myself as the only inhabitants while we’re messing around that seems like the best option. I mean, I don’t know what this is or if it’ll go past next Tuesday. I don’t want to permanently tinge the way they look at him for no good reason if I don’t have to. He comes in here every Sunday, for crying out loud.

“Good. Good is good,” Lydia says before bugging her eyes out at Lou when she thinks I won’t notice. I roll mine and stand up, sliding my gloves onto my hands and then interlacing my fingers to mold them into place.

“Okay, I have to go to class and do some research, but I’ll see you at two, I guess.”

Lydia nods. “I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

“Sounds good.” I smile and wrap my scarf tight around my neck and head for the door.

It only takes me two seconds of being on the sidewalk, and away from Lou’s and Lydia’s eyes, before I’m taking one glove off and pulling my phone out of my pocket once again to text Ty that I’m going to miss his class later. He reacts as expected, telling me that’s fine. It’s only when his second text comes in, though, that I expand my smile.

Ty: I’m going to see you at some point today, though, yeah?

Me: Yes. In fact, I’ll text you with instructions later.

Ty: Instructions?

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