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My eyes move to his legs. His long, athletic legs. Normally I don’t think of words like that about Hunter—normally I don’t think about Hunter’s legs at all—but in the pants he has on, I can’t help it.
Like the shirt he has on, the pants I’ve given him to try on also fit him like they were made for him.
I’m about to say they’re perfect and he should buy them. But then my gaze accidentally drifts to his crotch.
And…well, the pants are a little too tight there.
“Um,” I say. “I think...maybe the other pants are better.”
I try to avert my eyes from my best friend’s bulge. But it’s like my gaze is stuck there. I’m sure it’s just the pants, but…God. Hunter is packing.
“Really?” says Hunter, frowning as he looks in mirror. “You think the other pants are better?”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “Definitely get the other ones.”
Hunter looks at me a little strangely—oh God, is my voice giving it away? And how can he not see the problem? Is he that oblivious to his own size?—but after a few excruciating seconds, he just shrugs.
“Okay, whatever,” he says, closing the dressing room door once again. “You’re the one who knows more about fashion.”
