Don raised an eyebrow at the question. That wasn't what he'd expected. He thought she'd just come to pester him, maybe throw a few jabs, and leave.
The request caught him off-guard because he knew she was hinting at some more than just help—not that he let it show much.
He took another bite of food, chewing slowly, thinking.
It was tempting to say yes and agree there and then. But with everyone awake in the house, it wasn't the best idea.
He set the fork down and wiped his mouth again.
"No thanks," he said casually. "I've got some things to do. Can it wait till later?"
Summer's brows drew together, the crease between them deepening. She didn't argue outright—just let out a soft, frustrated exhale, the kind that barely moved her hair.
"…Whatever," she muttered, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "I guess that works. But you better not bail."
Don picked up his fork again, gesturing lazily toward her with it.
