Salvatore looked at Milo, sensing the nervous energy radiating from the young man. He smiled, not the sharp, probing smile from before, but something more playful.
He reached out, his hand hovering near Milo's collar.
Milo gulped. He felt his face burning. But before he could even say or do anything, Salvatore stopped.
His phone buzzed.
He walked to his desk to answer it.
"Hello, Ben." A pause. He listened, then gestured toward Milo's shirt with a casual circular motion. Open it.
He meant the buttons, obviously.
"No, it's fine," he said into the phone. "Just bring it here."
A minute or so into his conversation with Ben, when he glanced back at Milo while Ben was talking, his jaw dropped.
Milo had taken off everything. The shirt was on the floor. The trousers were on the floor. Everything was on the floor.
