Derek laughs in spite of himself as he unzips his jeans and drags them down — which only takes effort because they're so thickly caked with gunk that they're stiff. It certainly isn't because he's gained weight lately, in fact, quite the opposite. As a wolf, Derek is a pretty great hunter...but even the greatest hunter can only do so much when the game is limited to damn near nothing. "What kind of store runs out of boyfriend-scented soap? Come on, Beth."

He manages to get the jeans off and smirks over at her before he starts toward the water. "I know you do, anyway," he says with feigned disgust before wading into the creek. "You know, you're probably right. I would wonder who you were and what you'd done with the love of my life. It's nice, come on," he replies, reaching his arms out for her, still only standing about knee high in the water, stripped down to his boxer shorts.

Of course, his assessment of the water, as it always is, is flawed; werewolves run warmer than humans and, on top of that, he's exaggerating to get her in the water. If he told the truth — it's fucking freezing — she'd never come in with him on her own.