She rolls her eyes to the ceiling, chin trembling. “It’s embarrassing.”
I try to lighten the mood. “Connor fucked a sandwich when we were teenagers to piss me off. It can’t be worse than that.” That I fucked his T-shirt first is irrelevant under the circumstances.
“I got my period,” she whispers, a single tear tracking down her cheek. “And my dress is ruined.”
It’s pale blue satin with a gauzy overlay. “Let’s see what we can do.”
“I don’t think there’s anything that can be done. Not here, anyway.” Another tear slides down her cheek, voice laced with panic. “I can’t walk out of here like this.”
“You won’t have to. Can I come in so I can help?”
Tally steps back, and I push through the gap in the door, locking it behind me. I can already see the problem reflected in the mirror. Her panties sit on the edge of the sink. It looks like she tried to rinse them and dry them with the hand dryer.
But the large spot on the back of her pale blue dress is the real problem. It will be impossible to hide. We might be able to rinse it, but without the proper tools, it’s unlikely we’ll get all the blood out, and it could take a while—long enough for people tonotice and ask questions. She doesn’t need the negative attention.
“I have a potential solution.” I shrug out of my jacket. “Try this on.”
Tally slides her arms through it, unfortunately it’s a sports jacket.
“It doesn’t cover it.” I loosen my tie. “My shirt will, though.”
“What will you wear?”
I unfasten the buttons. “My jacket.” It’s not ideal, but it’s better than the alternative.
I help her out of her dress, and she puts her panties back on, lines them with toilet paper, and shrugs into my shirt. It’s massive on her, but it’ll do in a pinch. I take the sash from her dress and cinch it around her waist.
I shrug back into my jacket, adjust my tie, and fasten the buttons. “It’s a fashion statement, right?”
She worries her bottom lip. “What if people notice?”
I’m used to the negative speculation, and I’d rather have it aimed at me. “Your comfort is more important.” I smooth out her hair and kiss her softly. “You ready to go home?”
She swallows and nods.
I fold her dress to hide the stain and sling it over my arm, then link the other arm with hers. “I’ll get you in the car, then manage the bill, okay?”
“Okay. I’m sorry we didn’t get to eat dinner.”
“There will be plenty of other opportunities.” I open the bathroom door. “I’ve got you.” I step out into the hall first and put a protective arm around her. The only way to get to the rear entrance is by going the way we came. Through the kitchen to the service entrance might be our option to avoid the most people.
I pull Tally closer, kissing her temple. “Head down, okay, kitten?”
She makes a noise of acknowledgement.
I walk her briskly down the hall. We almost make it to the kitchen unnoticed, except a random dude rounds the corner, phone in hand, blocking our way for a few precious seconds. His gaze bounces between me and Tally, eyebrows pulling together before popping high. “Flip Madden?”
“Hey, man.” We skirt the dude, and I hustle her through the kitchen doors.
Thankfully our server happens to be right there. I explain the situation in the vaguest of terms and he helps us get out with as little exposure to patrons as possible. I’m still worried about the guy in the hall, though.
“Want to take bets on how your dad plans to kill me?” I joke as I help Tally into the car.
“Probably with your own hockey stick,” Tally whispers.
“It would be apt.”
Once Tally is safely tucked away, I return to pay the bill. People take pictures of me in my suit jacket minus a shirt. Hemi will be pissed, but priority one is taking care of my girlfriend and getting her home and into comfortable clothes.
