” Well it is kind of a sweet thing to do. My dad glared at me when I made him an omelette in heart form. ”
Her shrug matched his. “It’s what I do, make people feel better.” He didn’t need to know any more than that, really. “So, let’s see — I guess I’ll need your address? Or do you want me to bring them by in person, just to rub it in a little?”
”Oh my god don’t bring it in in person. My Dad will want to invite you to breakfast and never leave me alone,” Stiles said with a shake of his head, getting a notebook out to quickly write down his address. ”I need your address too though.“
Summer muffled a snort of laughter, getting out a pen. She handed it over to him and slowly told over her address, checking behind him to make sure. “Right. Oh, and here’s my number. I definitely want to know the reaction.” She paused, looking up at Stiles a little more earnestly. “You can text me anytime, actually.”