Eyes still narrow, huffing to himself, the redhead turned the water off. He wrapped the curtain around himself, partly for effect himself, and mock-glared at Isaac. “You,” he said haughtily, “are the most incorrigible werewolf I’ve ever met. Give me a towel.”
Isaac snorted with laughter and cast the other male’s now partially covered body an appreciative glance, reaching out to give a playful tug to the corner of the curtain. ”Maybe I don’t want to give you a towel — maybe I want you to stay just like this.”
“But I’m cold,” Summer whined, giving an exaggerated shiver. “You don’t want me to freeze, do you?”