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“You got a secret sweet tooth we don’t know about?” Stiles asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Derek failed trying to not find it endearing.
“Shut up,” Derek said, knowing his face was pink, and held the book up to block Stiles’ view of his face.
“Whatever, sourwolf, you’re allowed to have SOME weaknesses. Might as well be cookies.”
If only Stiles knew. Which he would never.