“This doesn’t fit!” Bob shouted from the bathroom.
“God.” I was going to have to do it. I was going to have to give him some of Michael’s old clothes.
“Come on! We need to go find Raphael!” I chucked some of Michaels clothes through the door.
“I don’t see why you made me change in here.” Bob commented.
“Maybe I don’t trust you anymore.” I said as he appeared round the door.
“What do you mean? You seriously think I’ve done something to your dog.” He scoffed.
“Yes. I do think you have done something to Raphy. Who else could it have been? If my mother wanted to do it, she would already have him in a jar in her basement.” He raised his perfectly shaped eyebrows.
“Fine. Think what you want. I didn’t take him.” The clothes hugged his broad body tightly. But I didn’t care. I didn’t see the muscles that were almost popping out. I didn’t care to see that Bob actually looked like Michael, the same face, same colour hair.
“Lets just go.” I said, grabbing a backpack from under the bed and stuffing it with Bob’s clothes. I handed it to him and we both walked downstairs.