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Bob’s eyebrows rose. “First time? Do you usually spend your time at The Forbidden Maple?”

“I’m just visiting town.” It wasn’t technically a lie, but borderline enough that I felt a bit guilty.

“Where from?” Bob rested his elbow on the counter and gave me his full attention.

“Boston.”

“Yeah? That’s cool. I’ve always wanted to visit there.”

We chatted for a few minutes about Boston, then moved on to other places we wanted to visit. There was a lot of overlap in our wish lists. New Orleans, Vietnam, Scotland, New Zealand.

The conversation had gone on long enough that I couldn’t ignore my bladder any longer, but I didn’t want to kill the conversation by making a restroom run.

I hadn’t clicked with someone so quickly in a seriously long time.

I’d always had an easy time chatting with people and sleuthing out topics for successful small talk—a side effect of being an extrovert to my core—but genuine connections were rare.

“Want another?” Bob gestured to my empty glass.

“Sure, thanks, but I really need to take a leak first. Back in a few.” I sent a flirty smile. “Protect my stool with your paintbrushes as weapons if you must.”

“There will be no happy trees if someone dares to even think about sitting here.” He set his paint palette and brush on the stool.

I chuckled and slid my phone into my pocket so I could check for a text from Sage. “Thank you, good sir.” I winked and eased myself off the stool.

While weaving through the crowd toward where I suspected the restrooms were, I noticed more air than usual brushing the skin on my legs.

The tears must’ve widened when I’d gotten on and off the stool.

But when I had to dodge a vampire who was walking and texting without paying attention to where they were going, I snagged my jeans on the corner of a table. Even more air brushed my skin. Shit.

I wasn’t sure how bad the damage was, but I clutched the denim together where I felt the most air on my thigh as I hurried to the restroom.

Passing the four full urinals, I pushed into one of two stalls and closed the door.

My bladder screamed from the movement, so I emptied it first. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Sage: Okay, I lied. I’m still at work. We’re slammed.

An unwelcome twinge flared in my gut. I wasn’t used to not helping when things were busy at work.

Not that I officially worked at Sparky’s Diner, but I’d been pitching in a ton since I’d gotten laid off from my actual job a month ago.

A job that had sucked up most of my time, and, looking back, most of my joy too.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone out on Halloween because I’d always been working or traveling for work.

Now, I was technically on a brief vacation from my real life while I figured out my next move, but I felt useless flirting with some stranger while my family was slammed at the diner on a busy night.

Amos: I’ll cash out and then head over to help.

After tucking myself into my underwear, I tried to gauge the damage to my jeans. I couldn’t get a good angle in the small, mirrorless stall, but I could feel skin where there should be denim. That didn’t bode well.

Maybe it didn’t matter. Other people were wearing skimpy costumes, so I could be Slutty Garth.

I grimaced as I remembered what underwear I was wearing.

The shared laundry room in Sage’s apartment complex was full each time I tried this week, and I’d forgotten to bring it with me when I’d gone to my parents’ for dinner the other night.

I’d found a thong gag gift a high school friend had bought me from Spencer’s in a box of my stuff that lived in my childhood bedroom-turned-parents’ gym.

As I shifted to try and see how bad the rip was, my jeans snagged on the toilet paper holder, and I heard a loud rip over the muted music and running water as someone washed their hands.

I felt around on my upper thigh and found skin.

More skin as I moved up until I hit the scratchy polyester underwear. I couldn’t go back out there like this.

Sage: We’re closing soon. No need to come over. The diner isn’t your problem. [smiley face] But thanks! Have fun! Sorry I couldn’t join you. I’ll clean up and do some prep for tomorrow, then head home.

My gut soured at the problem comment, but I didn’t want to examine it, especially not in a pub toilet stall.

Amos: Okay, sounds good. Had a massive costume malfunction, so I’m going to head out anyway. As soon as I figure out how not to flash everyone on the way.

Sage: I told you not to wear those jeans. They looked like they’d crumble to a pile of threads with a weak gust of wind.

Amos: These jeans got me through some of my best years.

Sage: They should’ve been left in those years.

My mood was tanking fast. How could I go back out to Bob with my jeans in tatters? The din of the pub rose and fell as people came and went in the restroom while I tried to figure out what to do.

The more time that passed, the more stuck I felt. I was beginning to think my best option was to stay in the restroom until the bar closed.

Live music grew louder as the door opened once more.

“Hey! What’s with the frown? You looked like you were hitting it off with that guy in the flannel.”

My ears perked up. I’d only spotted one or two people other than me wearing flannel. All the rest were lumberjacks, which tracked for Vermont.

“He’s dressed as Garth.”

“Oh! Wayne’s World . I get it. Yeah, where’d he go?”

“I don’t know. He dipped. I guess we weren’t vibing as much as I thought. You know how bad I am at reading that stuff.” Disappointment marked Bob’s every word.

He couldn’t be more wrong! We were absolutely vibing. All the vibing. Nothing but aligned vibes.

“Aww, damn. I’m sorry. But, you know, it’s not too late to find someone for a little fun. Come on, let’s go get beers for everyone and throw some darts.”

“No thanks. You go have fun with Jason. I think I’m going to head out. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day at work.” The music grew loud again.

Without thinking, I pushed open the stall door and stepped out to stop him from leaving. “Hey! I’m sorry for bailing, but I have an issue.” I felt the bulk of the denim on my left leg fall to my ankle. I must’ve looked ridiculous.

Bob, a guy next to him in a hockey jersey wiping his hands, and the other two guys in the restroom gave me a once-over. The guys at the urinals snickered before returning to their business.

“You didn’t leave.” Bob’s lips spread into a sweet smile that shifted when he clocked my underwear.

His friend failed to hide a grin while looking between us before quietly slipping out of the restroom with a pat on Bob’s arm.

“Nope. Hadn’t figured out what to do. I considered calling in a bomb threat to clear the place out so I could leave with my dignity intact, but I didn’t want to end up in jail tonight.”

“Or on Maplewood Matters .”

I tilted my head in confusion but brushed it away. I’d look it up later. “I’m glad you came looking for me.”

“Came to take a piss, actually.”

I was growing too fond of that teasing smirk.

He set his paint palette on top of the paper towel dispenser. “I know the owners. I’ll take you to the office. I’m sure we can find tape or a stapler to fix you up enough to get home.” He moved to the urinals with his back to me.

“That would be great. Thanks.” My shoulders relaxed while I walked over to the sink to wash my hands.

Bob joined me a minute later, and after drying his hands, he handed me his paint palette. I held it in front of my groin as I followed him out. My knight in shining denim.