CHAPTER 22
You say, "I will show you mine, if you will show me yours"
And, one-by-one, we're throwing all our clothing on the floor
-LFO, "I Will Show You Mine"
"Excuse me?" said Rafe, looking down suspiciously at the woman in front of him.
"You heard me," Alison replied. "Take off your shirt."
He chuckled uneasily.
"You're not serious."
Alison glared at him, and Rafe stopped laughing.
"You are serious."
"Of course I am," Alison informed him. "You said you'd believe me if I could prove my story to you, so that's what I'm going to do. Now, take off your shirt."
Rafe stared at her silently.
How was he supposed to react?
Alison groaned, frustrated at his hesitation.
"Rafe," she said, scratching her head. "I know you can't remember, but I've seen you shirtless before. There's no reason for you to be nervous."
He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow curiously.
Now why would she think he'd be nervous? There was nothing to be nervous about, he kept telling himself, just a beautiful girl asking him to take off his clothes. See, nothing to be nervous about…
Alison sighed.
"Rafe," she asked, "would it make you more comfortable if I took off my shirt, too?"
"No!" he shouted suddenly.
'Oh, no, that would not make me more comfortable,' Rafe thought uneasily.
Alison looked at him curiously.
"Well, Rafe, I told you that I could prove my story, if you let me. The question is: What are we going to do about it?"
"Fine, Alison, fine," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.
He didn't know how this was going to help, but anything was worth a try...
Taking a deep breath, Rafe lifted his hands to the collar of his olive-green shirt and slowly began to unbutton it...
You say, "I will show you mine, if you will show me yours"
And, one-by-one, we're throwing all our clothing on the floor
-LFO, "I Will Show You Mine"
"Excuse me?" said Rafe, looking down suspiciously at the woman in front of him.
"You heard me," Alison replied. "Take off your shirt."
He chuckled uneasily.
"You're not serious."
Alison glared at him, and Rafe stopped laughing.
"You are serious."
"Of course I am," Alison informed him. "You said you'd believe me if I could prove my story to you, so that's what I'm going to do. Now, take off your shirt."
Rafe stared at her silently.
How was he supposed to react?
Alison groaned, frustrated at his hesitation.
"Rafe," she said, scratching her head. "I know you can't remember, but I've seen you shirtless before. There's no reason for you to be nervous."
He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow curiously.
Now why would she think he'd be nervous? There was nothing to be nervous about, he kept telling himself, just a beautiful girl asking him to take off his clothes. See, nothing to be nervous about…
Alison sighed.
"Rafe," she asked, "would it make you more comfortable if I took off my shirt, too?"
"No!" he shouted suddenly.
'Oh, no, that would not make me more comfortable,' Rafe thought uneasily.
Alison looked at him curiously.
"Well, Rafe, I told you that I could prove my story, if you let me. The question is: What are we going to do about it?"
"Fine, Alison, fine," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.
He didn't know how this was going to help, but anything was worth a try...
Taking a deep breath, Rafe lifted his hands to the collar of his olive-green shirt and slowly began to unbutton it...