(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.”
“That’s a valid point. Would you have done the same for a guy?” Her tone was idly curious, lacking any sense of feminist challenge.
“Yes. If I thought he was too drunk to fully consent, I would. I will admit it is more likely if the guy is hitting on mostly men, but I would try to convince him to get a cab home or let him stay at my room,” Ross responded honestly, meaning every word of it. Usually though, he was gone with whatever partner he’d picked for the night before anyone else in any bar was trashed.
“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.”