I hadn’t finished buckling the seat belt when he cranked the engine. It was May and already hot. The truck inside was cold, but my suit jacket was uncomfortable. I squirmed and debated the merits of taking it off. I wasn’t impressing anyone with it. The truck rocked again as he turned onto a busy highway and pushed it up to just over the speed limit. I struggled out of the jacket from under the belt, getting my right arm caught in the sleeve.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Getting comfortable.” I managed to squeak out while contorting to reach behind me to loosen the tail of the jacket from under my butt. I was leaning forward and looked up to check his reaction and caught him staring. I looked down to where his eyes had come off the road and saw the gape in my shirt. Between the forward-lean and having my arms twisted behind me, the buttons had pulled apart.
Less than ten minutes free and I’d flashed a biker.
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