I glance up, only to see Will standing on the other side of the glass with an extremely concerned expression on his face. “Will’s here,” I say into the phone.
“Thank Christ,” Arthur says. “Hang up and call him. Maybe Sir Knight of the No Shirt can rescue Princess No Knickers.”
“He might be right about that,” Tessa says. “After all, he is there and he’s very resourceful.”
“Okay, I’ll do that,” I say, hanging up, even though the last thing I want to do is tell Will what’s really going on. This was supposed to be sexy, not tragically humiliating.
I dial his number then hold the phone up to my ear and watch as he answers. He puts one hand on the glass and I do the same like people in those shows where one of the characters is in prison in an orange jumpsuit and the other one is there to tell them to hang in there.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?"
"Yes, fine. I just feel a bit silly is all. How was your flight?" I ask as though I’m not trapped in a door.
"Fine," he says. "I got a lot of studying in so that's a positive." He gives me a thumbs up and does his best to look happy, even though I know he very likely is not. “But, more importantly, how do we get you out of there?”
“The maintenance guy is on his way. I’ve been told I’ll be out in a jiffy.” I smile graciously, even though I’m fighting back tears. Will is right there. After six weeks of being thousands of miles apart, I am literally a sheet of glass away from the man I love wearing edible undies that—let's face it because I can't deny it any longer—are melting.
"Darling, you look positively flushed," Will says. "Take your jacket off, sweetheart. You look like you're about to pass out from the heat.”
"I'm fine," I say, giving him a confident smile. “Absolutely fine. I'm actually a little bit chilly."
"But your face is bright red and I can see beads of sweat on your forehead.”
"Really?" I ask, dabbing at my face with my palms. "Must be a weird reflection because I’m as dry as a bone."
Oh God. Here it comes. Hot gooey liquid is running down the fronts of my thighs. Is it the strawberry or the chocolate running? Either way, this is going to look absolutely disgusting if it makes it all the way down past my coat. I'm either going to look like I shit myself or you know what.
I let out a sob. It’s reached my knees.
Fuck.
Fucking hell.
Fuckity fuck fuck.
“Belle, what’s wrong? Are you feeling faint?” Will asks. “Seriously, sweetheart, take your coat off. You’ll feel so much better.”
I shake my head and give him an urgent look. “I’m basically nude under my coat.”
His eyes grow wide and his lips curve up in a very turned-on grin.
Clearing my throat, I add, “Also, I’m wearing edible knickers and they’re melting down my legs.”
“Fuck,” he whispers before he lets his jaw drop.
“Yeah.” I give him a tight nod.
He grins again, then shakes his head. “Sorry, we need to get you out of there.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late.”
It's now also coming down the backs of my thighs. I try discreetly tucking my coat between my thighs and squeezing my legs against the fabric, praying my coat will absorb whatever the hell is leaking down there.Please do not soak through. Dear God, do not soak through.
Why the fuck did I go with the extra-large chocolate heart? Forsharesies?
“It’s happening, Will,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes. The warm liquid is past my knees now.
He stares at me as I sink to my knees, letting the coat fan out around me. Looking up at the crowd, I raise my voice and say, “Let us use this time to reflect on our many blessings and pray for the less fortunate.”
