“That’s okay. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.” I politely dismissed my question and closed the lid on the first aid kit.

“Ahh,” he groaned, keeping me engaged in conversation. “I went out to see if I could get a present for my mom; her birthday is in a few weeks. I had some free time today, so I escaped from the hotel and went for a walk. I managed to go into one of the shops down the street, but couldn’t find anything I wanted to buy.”

He took a sip of beer, pausing to collect his thoughts. His eyes focused on the bar instead. “When I left the store, there were a handful of women waiting for pictures or autographs or something. I tried to be polite and walk away but…”

He let out a big sigh. “One girl grabbed me and tried to pull my shirt off. Then the chase started.” His lips twisted in disgust. “I took off running and here I am. I feel like I just got mugged.”

“It sounds to me like you did get mugged. Do you want me to call the police?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head infinitesimally. “They were just excited fans.”

I reached up to the top shelf for my unopened bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue, thinking that we both needed something special to calm us down.

“Would you like one?” I asked.

His eyes widened and he nodded enthusiastically.

“You have good taste,” he complimented.

I briefly smiled and pushed a filled shot glass in his direction. He tapped his glass into mine before tossing it back in his mouth.

“Do you mind if I ask you another question?” I asked tentatively. I still wasn’t sure if he wanted to be ignored.

“No, I don’t mind. Please – ask.” Ryan winced and puckered his lips from the after burn of the whiskey. His expression was slightly amusing.

“Well, I’m just curious why you’re walking around without an escort. Don’t you usually have bodyguards with you?”

“Yeah, most of the time,” he shyly admitted. “I just really wanted to go for a walk by myself. It’s beautiful outside today. I didn’t think I needed security to do that, but I suppose I should rethink that, huh?” he said while examining the large rip in his T-shirt. “Damn. This was one of my favorites.”

I couldn’t help but nod in agreement with his statement; a shot of whiskey was burning my throat now. I refilled our shot glasses; it would take more than one to calm me down.

“Would you excuse me for a moment?” I asked politely. “I’ll be right back.”

I ran upstairs to get him a new T-shirt. There was a huge hole in his shirt and I felt terrible for him. On my way through my apartment, I stopped to check my appearance in the mirror. Great, my nipples are standing at attention. Guess I was in the cooler too long? I tried to push them back in as I picked the clean T-shirt out of the laundry basket. It was still warm from when I took it out of the dryer this morning.

“Here. Please… take this.” I handed him my favorite oversized T-shirt. It was dark blue and soft from many washes. “Your T-shirt is really torn.

You can’t walk around looking like that. The bathroom is over there if you would like to change.”

“Thanks! Thanks a lot!” Ryan unfolded the shirt and looked at it, appearing very puzzled. “Wait, this shirt can’t be yours. It’s way too big. Is this your…”

I shook my head. “No, it’s mine – well it used to be my father’s but now it’s a very comfortable sleep shirt.” My admission made me shrug. “I just washed it. I’m sorry, it’s all I have. You don’t have to… I just thought...”

He smiled at me and pulled the shirt out of my reach. He wadded it up in his hand and departed for the restrooms. The way he looked at me made me question if he ever gets treated with kindness by strangers. My gesture seemed to take him by surprise.

When he returned, he held his hands out from his sides. His posture asked the unspoken question for me to give my opinion.

When I wore that shirt it fit me like a dress, but on his body the soft cotton covered his physique like second skin. I noticed the contours of his defined chest through the thin fabric and how the sleeves accentuated his muscular biceps.

I nodded and smirked. He looked gorgeous in my T-shirt.

“I think it fits you better,” I murmured, noticing that the color made his blue eyes even more alluring.

“It’s really soft, and it smells really good too.” He had the collar pulled up to his nose. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I smiled warmly. I was pleased that he no longer looked like a victim.