The car was gone when they got back to the townhouse. Henry was either out by himself, or both Henry and Mary were still out. Either way, the house was silent and nobody came out to investigate when Lyle and Rafe slipped up the stairs to the third floor. Lyle offered Rafe a towel, a T-shirt and pajama pants that Lyle had no doubt Rafe would swim in, and showed Rafe to the shower. Thirty minutes later Rafe was sprawled on Lyle’s bed and sleeping so deeply that Lyle wanted to poke him and make sure he was still alive.
With the dirt pried out of his fingernails and the oil stripped out of his hair, Rafe was far more attractive than when he’d been standing in the street trying to hold himself up. The curls in his hair no longer hung like lackluster squiggles but sprung wildly in a charming ta
