Derek Says Smile
Stiles didn’t want to be dragged along in the first place. But did anyone ever listen to his wishes? No. No, they did not. And now, as a direct result, he was stuck two towns over in Majestic Springs, with the very last person he ever wanted to get stuck with. Again.
“Excuse me, my friend’s jeep ran out of gas. I don’t suppose you could spare a bit of change…?”
Stiles frowned and slouched against the grill of his jeep, refusing to participate in this begging for change scheme. In his defense, if he had known he was going to get dragged out of bed at the crack ass of dawn to act as Derek’s personal chauffeur, maybe he would have filled up his tank the night before. As it was, Stiles considered their current predicament to be completely the werewolf’s fault, meaning he could go and beam at as many ladies as he had to in order earn the money needed to refuel the car all by himself.
The old lady Derek was talking to made the mistake of glancing in Stiles’ direction, catching the full force of his glower before hurriedly continuing about her way.
Turning, Derek raised a brow at Stiles, before glancing down at the coins in his palm and pocketing them.
“You should try smiling.”
The irony of the command was not lost on Stiles, his features remaining dark and grumpy as he demanded, “Why?”
Derek took a moment to look up and down the street for any more pedestrians, probably in an attempt to abort the conversation he had mistakenly started with an irate Stiles. When no one was forthcoming, he turned back to his companion and offered a shrug.
“Because God loves you.”
Rather than dignify such an asinine answer with a response, Stiles merely continued to scowl as he reached out blindly for his thermos of cold coffee. There was never an ideal time to deal with a charismatic Derek.