He slides the fabric from the band of my underwear until it flutters around my hip, covering me from anyone who’s looking. Which, as I glance around, I realize with embarrassment is half the bowling alley. “You’re covered now,” he says. “I fell on you like that because with you on top of me—” “Everyone and their grandma in the bowling alley could see my butt?” His blush deepens. “Well, yes.”
