(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.”
Whoops. Should she not have noticed? Sometimes it was hard to separate things anybody paying attention could figure out from things only the ability to look into their heart could reveal. Summer shoved the pillow up against the headboard and looked up at the guy with one green eye.
“You,” she said, “are a remarkable person. Whose name I do not remember.”
Isiah smiled encouragingly at the woman, offering her the bottle of water.
“Figured you might not. My name is Isiah. You weren’t clear with yours last night either,” he pointed out.
Summer pushed herself upright, folding her legs and pushing her hair back over her shoulder. It took a second to get all the strands from underneath her body, and then she accepted the water. Cracking it open, she said, “I’m Summer. Thank you, Isiah.”