“I see you’ve helped yourself to my trousers too.” He turned round. There was a faint wash of red along his cheekbones, but his eyes were level and steady. “Your mother offered. She said you wouldn’t mind. But perhaps you’d rather I took them off?” “Of course not.” “If it’s an imposition—” Abruptly he started to draw the shirt over his head. I caught a glimpse of his hip above his waistband, jutting under bone-white skin.
HELLO?
