(Wouldn’t happen like a sexual thing, Ross is strictly dickly, but I do have something.)
Isiah had noticed the woman hitting on a bunch of people the night before at the bar, drunk and not at all safe to drive and he doubted she would want to wake up next to some of the people she was hitting on, so when she made her way to him he pretended to accept it and took her back to his hotel room but got her to sleep, covering her with the blanket when she finally did and getting himself as comfortable as he could on the couch, reluctantly taking a pain killer to do so so his leg wouldn’t wake him up, but he was still up before she was.
“Hey, how’d you sleep?” he asked, keeping his voice low when she awoke.”
“Well aren’t you just a hero then?” Summer murmured. “Is that sort of thing how you got hurt?” She nodded to his legs, which so clearly pained him. “Not everyone wants to be rescued from themselves.”
Isiah looked down at his legs and shook his head. “No, I don’t know what happened to my legs, woke up with severe memory loss and they were like this.” he said with a shrug before nodding at her second statement.
She blinked and climbed off the bed to crouch beside the sofa, eyes narrowed at his leg. “You woke up with memory loss and your legs like this,” she repeated slowly. “That’s not … will you tell me what you do remember? You’ve done me a favour, I’d like to return it.”