Izzy raised her eyebrows at Zach as he gulped down water, then added a tub of butter to her small pile. She retrieved a pan from one of the cabinets and placed it on the stove top, her face twisting in disgust as she watched Zach wring out his shirt.
	“You can’t think of [i]anywhere[/i] more sanitary to do that?” she asked, turning the burner on. “The bathroom, for instance?” She turned from him to collect a spatula, then went to return to the stove, but Zach was closing the distance between them.
	Recognizing his mischievous expression, she pointed the end of the spatula threateningly at him and stepped away. “Don’t you even [i]think[/i] about--!” Her protest ended in an appalled groan as he forced her into a damp, reeking hug.
	“GET OFF ME!” she shouted, trying to wriggle from his grasp and push him away, her attempts aided by the handle of the spatula as she tried to jab it into his side to make him back off. “Unless you want to make your own breakfast!”