"Judging by your tone, I don't think you do," Derek says warmly, shaking him by the shoulder a little before letting go. He rolls his eyes a bit in fond exasperation and pours himself a drink. "Yeah. Nice, attractive blonds with southern accents who can cook. Who would ever want that?"

He turns to raise a sarcastic eyebrow at Bitty and knocks back a drink of whiskey before pointing at him with the glass. "Don't let me catch you talking about yourself like that again, Bitty. You're great. And, as your alpha, you have to believe me."