Page 94 of I Could Be Yours

“Why don’t you try on my pants?” I suggest. The results may not be any better, since I am not shaped like someone who plays professional hockey. There’s a reason Tristan and his teammates have all their clothes custom tailored, but at least we can try.

“You won’t fit into these any better than I do,” Tristan argues.

“I’m a size down from you, and I don’t have the hockey butt or thighs, so it won’t be as bad, and I’m not the one getting married.” Will I enjoy having my balls crammed into a pair of too-tight pants? No. But better me than Tristan.

“You should definitely try on Nate’s pants,” Hemi agrees. “And I’ll text Lavender. If anyone can help with last-minute alterations, she’s our girl.”

“That’s right. She’s a seamstress.” Dad looks relieved.

I unzip my suit bag and pass Tristan my pants. He disappears into the changing room again, and we all cross our fingers.

“You should be proud,” Sam says to my dad.

“Sam.” Hemi side-eyes her brother.

“It’s a compliment,” Isaac explains.

“I’m pretty sure Essie’s mom isn’t complimenting Muffy on Rix’s rack,” Hemi points out.

The door to the dressing room swings open again. We all look at Tristan’s crotch.

My pants have slightly more room behind the fly, but unfortunately they’re still tight in the thighs and butt. We can see the outline of his junk, but it’s not as glaringly obvious.

I go with honesty. “They’re still a little snug.”

“It’s better, though,” Hemi says. “And hopefully Lavender will be able to help.”

“My ears are burning! How can I be of service?” Lavender appears, followed by her shadow/bodyguard/husband.

“I have a problem.” Tristan motions to his crotch.

Lavender’s gaze lands on Tristan. “Oooh. Those are a bit snug.”

He props his fists on his hips. “Can you fix it?”

“I should be able to make you more comfortable,” she assures him.

“Nate, you should try on the other pants so Lavender can make adjustments to those too,” Tristan suggests as he glances at the clock. “If there’s time.”

“Good call.” Hopefully there’s time.

“What happened?” Kodiak asks.

“They must have laundered his suit and the pants shrunk. A lot,” I explain. “The ones he’s wearing are mine.”

I disappear into the changing room and put on Tristan’s pants. It looks like I’m smuggling baked potatoes in my boxers. I open the door a crack.

“Baby, uh, isn’t there another way to do this?” Kodiak looks like his head is about to explode.

“No, sweetheart. I can’t let out the crotch area of a pair of pants without touching the crotch area of a pair of pants while they are on the body they need to be adjusted for,” she explains.

“Nate, how do those fit?” Hemi asks.

I throw the door open.

Everyone grimaces. Except Flip. He gives me two thumbs-up while smirking.

“Seriously, you guys have some good genetics,” Sam offers.

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