Ivy’s face seems to be caught in link between flushing and draining of color. “Wow. Okay. Excuse me,” she pries her hands out of his and goes to the kitchen and grabs Arty by the shoulder and ushers her into Arty’s room. She locks the door behind them, her face still stuck in a look of horrification. “Don’t worry about the kitchen. If Adam doesn’t get it, I’ll get it later. But for now,... [i]help[/i].”

Winter puffs out a small bout of nervous laughter. “Yep, busy screwing my life around,” she says quietly to herself. “Hey, Jacob! Just a bit less would’ve been [i]perfect[/i].” She turns to Max with a smile. “Hey that’s actually kind of fun. What have you been up to?”