Thrusting it at me, “Get that on you. There’s a bathroom out at the back to change.”
It feels a bit odd, accepting clothes from a near stranger, but I’m in no position to argue. My jeans are still sopping, but with the warm jersey, at least my top half is warm and I do feel much better.
The sweater is not a good fit and would easily accommodate another one of me inside. I’d not realised before how broad-shouldered Ben is, or for that matter, how much taller he is than me.
A bit self-consciously, I return to the bar. He eyes me, mouth puckering. “Not exactly a fashion statement, is it?”
“Thanks very much. I owe you one.” I say, pushing the sleeves up past my wrists, trying to free my hands to pick up my coffee mug. “I really appreciate it. Er…. do mind if I borrow it to go home in? I’m
