“Ugh, delivery Mexican? No. Absolutely not.” He rolled out of bed, arms and legs everywhere, and straightened with a stretch. “You don’t want to go out to eat, that’s fine, but no on the delivery Mexican.” He made a yucky noise.

“You…want to go out with me?” He visibly hesitated and gazed over with wide eyes, genuinely pondering it over as he tried not to get distracted by his boyfriend’s body. “I’d like that.”

“Isaac,” Summer sighed. “It’s just lunch. We’re just going to nip out for a bite to eat and hang out outside the house a little.” He reached out at patted the werewolf’s shoulder. “You don’t have to make it something special every time, you know.”

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