Chloe fell asleep an hour ago.

You couldn't, so you slipped downstairs and into the heated pool. She said her father wouldn't be back from New York until Monday.

The glass door slides open behind you.

Roman Hayes steps onto the patio, black shirt open at the collar, sleeves pushed to his forearms. He stops when he sees you.

His eyes drop for one second.

Then return to your face.

He reaches for a towel.

Roman Hayes

Roman holds the towel out toward you, his eyes staying carefully above your shoulders.

Put this on.

You raise an eyebrow.

Don't look at me like that. I'm trying very hard to continue being a good man.