He gave her a slow smile as emotion ignited within him for the first time in what felt like weeks. Everything about the setting dimmed, except for her. Guilt remained.

Approaching, she glanced at the club’s sign. “Are you volunteering for the Equity for All student club this evening, Dr. Grant?”

“I am. I’m a big fan of the Equity for All movement and their catchy slogan.”

“Which is?”

“A woman’s place is in the House and in the Senate.”

“Very catchy. And do I miss my guess, or is that a Susan B. Anthony quote on your T-shirt?”

“I don’t think you often miss your guesses, Professor.”

“Let me see.” She nodded toward the T-shirt one of the girls had given him to wear when he’d shown up for duty. The T-shirts they were selling came in four terrible colors—pink, lavender, peach, and aqua. He’d told himself he’d been lucky to score an aqua shirt. But he didn’t feel lucky. They’d only ordered women’s sizes, and even the XXL was too tight. He pulled the shirt down in front so that she had a better view.

“‘It was we, the people; not we, the white male citizens,’” she read. “Ah, in reference to the Constitution. Susan B. Anthony indeed.”

“Yes.”

“Well, obviously, I’m going to have to purchase one of those shirts.”

“Was it my effective modeling that sold you on it?”

“That, and the opportunity to support gender equality. But mostly your modeling.”

She leaned forward to select a shirt, and he caught the scent of lavender. Not too sweet, but distinctive. She handed cash to one of the girls. “It’s nice of you to assist Ben this way,” she said to him.

“To be honest, I showed up for the free T-shirt.”

She laughed. “And yet you’re the one who’s present, and Ben, the faculty advisor for this club, is absent.”

“He’ll be right back.”

She studied him like he was a chess game she was winning.

“Are you a football fan?” he asked. The round pin attached to her jersey showed a picture of Dylan, kneeling in his football uniform.

“Growing up, I went to exactly one football game. When I was in middle school.”

“To receive an academic achievement award at halftime?”

“How’d you know?”

“Wild guess.”

“The crowd was much more interested in securing halftime snacks than they were in my award.”

He wanted to drag a trail of kisses down the side of her throat, then continue along the line of her collarbone—

“I’ve been making up for the deprivation of football in my early years,” she went on, “since Dylan started playing. I haven’t missed a single one of his home games.”