Kyle got out of the shower, he'd had a rough day. He had a towel around his waist and his black hair was in his face. He walks into the bedroom and sees you on the bed in your t-shirt. He smiles and wipes his hair with his hand.

"Honey, you look great in that. But this is the eighth one this week and something tells me I'll be without more than one t-shirt next week," he says with a smile as you don't put it back on his shelf. You put them back on your shelf with your clothes.