Her Dirty Professor Series (21+)

“Lead the way.”

And just like that, Rick and I are escorting the beautiful woman to a local bar of her choosing. For a brief moment, I again get the sense that I must know Chrissy from somewhere, but where? There’s the oddest sense of deja vu. Then with a shrug, I decide that the past doesn’t matter. Instead, I’m curious to see what the future may bring, now that we’re leaving high school behind.

Chrissy

As we stride into the hotel, I shoot a sideways glance at the twins. Rick and Ryder Walsh have only gotten better looking with age, and I’m surprised to find that I’m still attracted to them, even after all these years. It hardly seems fair that the two men would only get more handsome after ten years, while most of our classmates seem to have put on forty pounds.

But part of me is confused that neither brother seems to recognize me. I thought for sure that at least one of my former stepbrothers would recognize me, but nope. That doesn’t seem to be the case at all.

I sigh ruefully.

Of course neither of them knows who I am, I think. After all, during our brief interlude as step-siblings, I was nothing more than a wallflower who was pasty, pimple-prone, and meek. I was reduced to listening to their sexcapades through the wall, or even witnessing them in person, that’s how pathetic I was.

But of course, now things are different. Long gone are my days of coke-bottle glasses and frizzy, nondescript hair. My childhood acne finally cleared up by the time I hit my early twenties, and my body eventually grew into itself. I’m certainly not thin, but now I have curves in all the right places. Plus, I’m especially pleased that while I’m still shy at times I’ve learned to speak up for myself and to hold my own when it comes to conversations and relationships.

No, I think with a small smile just for myself, I’m nothing like I was in high school.

Of course, it also didn’t help that shortly after high school graduation, our parents went through a bitter divorce. It was a nasty, brutal, and difficult proceeding, with my mother dragging Fred Walsh through the mud any which way she could to try and finagle money out of him. When we finally moved out of the Walsh mansion, Angela left a wake of destruction behind her, taking half the silverware, as well as half of the living room couch. She literally rented a chainsaw and sawed that thing in half before forcing me to help her lug it out the front door. Incredible, right? But my mom’s always been aggressive, especially when it comes to money.

Nonetheless, it also means that I haven’t seen my former stepbrothers in almost ten years. We’ve grown up a lot since then, that’s for sure, I think appreciatively as I sneak another glance back at the brothers. Catching my eye, Rick winks devilishly and I immediately blush at having been caught checking them out.

“You know,” Ryder’s deep, baritone voice interrupts my thoughts. “Rick and I are actually staying in this very hotel while we’re in town.”

I raise an eyebrow at this fact. “You are?” I ask with no small amount of surprise. “I only picked this spot because the lounge has the best cocktails around. And it’s not rowdy with music blasting, like Rodeo Ranch.”

“Yep, we’re right upstairs.” Rick’s sharp blue eyes flash brilliantly, hinting at something more. “And we didn’t know their cocktails were the best.”

“Oh yeah,” I say with a smile. “They don’t skimp on the alcohol, and they have a lot of fancy stuff like vermouth and orange bitters. It’s a real lounge, without the warm, fizzy beer and watered down drinks that Rodeo serves.”

The brothers laugh and a few moments later, the three of us settle into a plush booth in the bar. The room’s ambience is romantic, elegant, and soothing all at once. Above us, delicate chandeliers light the room with a soft yellow glow. Heavy oak furniture with dark green velvet cushions dot the room, while sharply dressed waiters bustle about serving drinks and simple snacks. At nearby tables, couples and small groups murmur, the vibe intimate and clubby.

I order a glass of champagne a bit of a splurge, but I love how decadent I feel when sipping on a chilled bubbly. Meanwhile, Ryder and Rick each order their own cocktail and collectively, we sink into the lush furniture, settling in for what is shaping up to be a nice evening.

“So you seem to know your way around town,” Ryder remarks as he crosses his long legs comfortably.

I nod and smile. “Actually, I live here,” I inform the brothers. “Some folks moved away, but I stayed. Back then, I used to live pretty close to the high school, but you know how home prices in the Golden Triangle are these days. They’re absolutely insane. So now, I live a bit to the west side where it’s still nice, but also affordable.”

Rick nods.

“And you graduated with us, right?”

I smile.

“Why, you don’t remember me?” is my coy question.

The twins shake their heads.

“Not in the least, although to be honest, we’ve forgotten a lot about Sheridan. We didn’t recognize half the people at the reunion,” Ryder says ruefully. “I guess age must be taking its toll.”

I giggle.

“You’re not old! Or at least if you are, so am I, seeing that we’re the same class year. Besides, how about you? I take it you don’t live in Wyoming anymore?”

Rick shakes his head.

“We’re New Yorkers now. Moved there after college and haven’t left. It’s the city that never sleeps for us.”

Unable to resist, I ask, “Do you still have family in town?” I literally have no idea because I haven’t seen Fred Walsh in ages now.

It’s Ryder who answers with a nod.

“Our dad is still around, but it’s just him. Oh, and I guess we have a ranch on the outskirts of Sheridan, but it’s run by a management company. That’s why Rick and I are making this trip. We want to check on the ranch and make sure everything’s running smoothly because it’s been ages.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to blurt that I remember that ranch well, but that would give everything away. After all, my mom tried to take it from Fred as a part of the divorce.

“What is it you do, Chrissy?” Ryder asks with a languid smile. He’s utterly masculine sitting on the couch, his huge form relaxed on the plush green velvet.

Blushing slightly, I wonder if I should lie, but then I decide not to.

“I work at Oh-La-La downtown. Have you heard of it?” At their blank expressions, I laugh. “Of course not because it’s a boutique here in Sheridan that specializes in women’s lingerie. We sell all types, but we’re known for our racy outfits.”

Two pairs of eyebrows fly up at this detail.

“That’s quite the job,” Rick comments, his tone low.

I nod and laugh.

“It’s a fun gig and I like it. Plus, it works for me because I’ve actually been working on designing my own line of ladies’ lingerie. I get so tired of the pieces we sell because they’re made to fit thin girls, when most of us have a little more meat on our bones. Nothing has come of my drawings yet, but we’ll see. I’m hopeful!”

Immediately, I blush. I hadn’t meant to talk so much about myself, especially since I’m usually incredibly private about my dreams. But even more, I didn’t meant to draw attention to my full figure in so obvious a manner.

To my surprise, however, both men look at me with appreciation, their eyes trailing my figure.

“Rick and I are in the apparel business ourselves,” Ryder states simply. “And not to be crass, but we have that same conversation about our clientele and products, too. How do we make products that everyone can enjoy, and not just a few?”

I take a sip of my champagne, appreciating its cooling effect on my otherwise flushed body. “What do you mean?”

It’s Rick’s turn to smile, and I feel my insides turn over with unexpected anticipation.

“We design athletic apparel for all types of people, bodies and levels of interest. We just launched a new line of sports bras and leggings for the yoga types. The goal was to have styles that make women feel sexy and strong.”

It’s an interesting concept, and even I have to admit to myself that I’m surprised that Ryder and Rick two men I’d always thought somewhat shallow about women would be promoting such a body positive message.

“What’s the brand?” I ask, unable to contain my enthusiasm.Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

“Ayema,” Ryder states simply while taking another sip of his cocktail.

“Ayema?” I repeat, my own eyes going wide as I realize that the Walsh brothers are the geniuses behind a multi-billion dollar business. “You guys work at Ayema?”

Rick laughs easily, and my heart skips a beat. “Sort of.” He glances at his brother before he continues to speak. “We own it, actually. We founded it straight out of college, and it’s done good business so far.”

Good business? I think to myself. Ayema dominates the athleisure wear space with its leggings, sports bras, and hoodies. My former stepbrothers must be billionaires, and one look at their confident forms drives this point home.

Why am I even surprised? I nearly groan aloud.

After all, the Walsh brothers have always been tough and ambitious. They were relentless on the football field, and it makes sense that they would bring that drive and energy to the boardroom as well. Of course they’re the heads of a multi-national apparel line.

But then, the twins surprise me.

“You know,” Rick drawls. “We brought a few samples of our newest line with us because there’s a factory nearby. We were going to swing by and talk about prototypes with the GM while we were here for the reunion.”