“The gel pack,” Rachel said. She took it from his skull, unwrapped it, and fingered the soft incandescent-blue gel trapped under the plastic. Then she put it and the dish towel behind her on the end table and returned her body to his. Archie’s forehead was numb and damp. Rachel ran her hand over his chest. He wanted her hand to go lower.

“I know you’re taking your kids trick-or-treating tomorrow,” Rachel said, “but Halloween is my absolute favorite holiday, and I’ve been planning a special costume that I think you’ll enjoy.” She gave him a hopeful look. “Maybe we can get together after?”

“We won’t trick-or-treat much past dark,” Archie said. But he was careful not to commit to anything specific. He knew better than that. In his line of work, things came up.

Rachel nuzzled against his shoulder. “You look nice,” she said.

Archie looked down at his clothes reflexively. Rachel’s cheek was pressed against Jack Reynolds’s cashmere sweater. It seemed too complicated to explain. “Thanks,” Archie said.

Rachel raised her head and lifted her chin toward the bedroom. “Do you want to stay?” she asked.

“Yes,” Archie said immediately. He wanted to stay very badly. But he couldn’t. “But I need to sleep,” he said.

“Good,” Rachel said with a grin.

She climbed off his lap and stood, and Archie felt a strong, naked urge to pull her back to him.

“I have to go to class,” she explained. She looked him up and down, a tiny line of concern between her eyebrows. Then she extended a hand for him to take. “I’ll walk you upstairs first.”

“Do I really look that bad?” Archie asked.

She turned her hand palm up and beckoned him. “Take my hand,” she instructed.

Archie took hold of her hand and let her pull him up into a standing position. They held hands—almost like boyfriend and girlfriend—as she retrieved her shoulder bag of books, and then all the way out her door, to the elevator, and down his hall. As they neared his apartment door, Archie saw her sneak a peek at her phone, and realized that she was checking the time. He didn’t want her to be late for class.

“I can take it from here,” Archie told her.

She looked worriedly at his head wound. “You sure?”

“I just have to make it to the couch,” Archie said.

She kissed him gently on the mouth and looked at him for a long moment, like she was seeing him for the first or last time. “Sweet dreams,” she said. Then she turned and headed for the elevator. He watched her go. He liked watching her from behind, the way her ponytail swung as she walked, the way her hips moved.

He wondered how much a cashmere sweater was, and whether Jack would miss his if Archie kept it.

“Give me a hint,” Archie called after her. “About the costume.”