Well, Itriedto unzip my pants.
The zipper wasstuck. Like, jammed stuck.
For the next tenminutes, I tried everything, including laying on my back on my bed to letgravity suck in my stomach, sprinkling more powder down the side just in case Icould get a little more ‘slick’ happening, then rubbed some olive oil over thezipper…and nothing worked.
Either I foundan alternative or I was going to have cut myself out of them and I seriouslydidn’t want to do that. They’d cost me a mint.
I peeked my headout of my front door and heard music coming from my neighbor Louisa’s place, soI took a chance and knocked on her door.
She was not theone who answered, however.
Oh, no. Becausewhy wouldshebe the one who would answer in my time of need?
No, it was somegorgeous, tall, built like a fullback, with muscles on muscles, dark hair, darkbeard, Tom Hardy-looking, tight shirt, grey sweatpants wearing, sex god.
I scanned theroom and saw an open bottle of wine and a candle in the center of a table withthe remnants of a dinner for two. The lights were dim and romantic music wasplaying in the background, not to mention, the place smelled delicious, so itwas obvious I’d interrupted a date.
I was mortified.
“Daisy?” Louisawalked out of the kitchen. “Everything okay?”
“Oh my gosh, I’mso sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Louisa set herwine glass on the coffee table and scoffed. “Don’t be silly, what’s wrong?”
“I… um, well,I’m kind of stuck.”
She frowned.“Stuck? Stuck, how?”
I blushed.“Like, ah, my zipper. It’s totally okay, you’re obviously in the middle of—”
“Don’t besilly.” She waved her hand. “Come in here. Let me have a look.”
I stepped insideand presented my hip. Louisa promptly attempted to tug the zipper down, whichdid not work.
“Lord, what haveyou done here?” she muttered.
“I tried to undothe zipper, but the little handle thingy broke off in my hand and the tracks ofthe zipper got stuck together and I can’t breathe in enough to get enoughleverage, and now I’m having a panic attack,” I panted out. “And my legs arebeing strangled to death.”
The man chuckled.
I glanced up athim and he gave me a chin lift. “Hey, I’m Huck.”
Of course, it was.Even his name was hot.
“As inHuckleberry?” I asked, trying to be funny but probably sounding like a dork.
“How’d you know?No one ever guesses my full name,” he returned with a sly smile.
I bit my lip.“I’m Daisy. I’m Louisa’s neighbor and these are my pants which are currentlytrying to eat me.”
Oh my god,why did I just say that? I’m so awkward. I deserve to die like this. Via amixture of lack of oxygen to my lower half and acute embarrassment.
At least the guyI was making a fool of myself in front of washerdate and not mine,which meant a zero-chance probability that he would ever look my way twice.Louisa was both stunningly beautiful and sweet as sugar. I couldn’t competewith her if I tried.
“It’s notbudging,” she breathed out. “Come and sit down… or lay down, whatever you needto do and I’ll get my toolbox.”
I did neither. Istood right where I was, awkwardly waiting for her return while trying not tostare at her drop-dead gorgeous date.
