Silver was the color of the moon shining on snow-covered pine trees.

My eyes were dull gray.

I turned on the shower and waited until it began to steam up the mirror, covering the “silver” of my eyes. I dabbed some of the grapeseed oil on my body and then stepped under the warm pelting water.

Perfect. It felt perfect. I used the shampoo and body wash to thoroughly cleanse myself, and then I stepped out and turned off the water.

I wrapped a large bath towel around my body and looked again in the mirror. Something felt different, but I wasn’t sure what.

Then I realized. It was my skin. My skin felt…nice. Nice and moisturized. Usually I felt tight and itchy until I applied lotion all over my body.

What was different?

My gaze fell on the bottle of grapeseed oil. It had removed the paint and also left me feeling like I was on a tropical island. I smiled at myself.

This was turning out to be a great night.

I dried off and realized I hadn’t brought my clothes in with me. I toweled off my hair, wrapped another dry towel around my chest, and walked out to the bedroom to get my clothes.

Roy stood in the bedroom, holding a clean robe and smiling. “Here.”

“Thanks.” I walked back into the bathroom to put the robe on and laughed aloud. He’d just seen me naked. Why was I suddenly so modest?

I shed the towel and wrapped myself in the robe and went back out. The mural met my gaze. “Tell me about this.” I nodded toward it.

“Just something I threw together.”

“Just something you threw together? You’re kidding, right?”’

“Not really. I couldn’t sleep one night, so I got up, and this is the result.”

“It’s amazing, but you said you didn’t display your work here.”

“This is my bedroom. It’s hardly on display.”

“You mean you don’t… Never mind.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“All right.” Roy smiled. “Food will be here soon. Want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

“Beer? Wine? Water? Juice?”

“I think just water, thanks.”

“No problem. Come on out. We can eat in the kitchen.”

I followed him. He had removed his smock and washed his hands. He wore a gray V-neck T-shirt and looked absolutely scrumptious. His muscular forearms were a work of art.

“Have you ever painted yourself?” I asked.

“A self-portrait? No.”

“You should.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re so…”

He grinned. “So…what?”

“You know exactly how good-looking you are, Roy. You don’t need me to tell you.”

“What if I want you to tell me?” he teased.

Embarrassment welled in me. I could actually feel the warmth creeping up my cheeks. I hoped it was disguised by the redness from my recent shower.

“I’ve told you how beautiful you are, Charlie.”

He had, at that.

“You told me you’re an artist,” he continued.