A laugh rises up in Molly's throat and gets caught there as he nudges her backwards, a hand lifting to curl in the front of his shirt as she moves towards the bedroom, sure enough of her footing to not need to look yet. She's hardly overeager, and, for that matter, not so caught up in the moment that she couldn't bear to put any distance between them, but that's no reason not to keep him close. This is, and it's going to be, the most she's enjoyed herself in weeks, and it would defeat the purpose entirely to fall back on formality, to make this something clinical, too planned. Mouth curved in a smile, still close to his, she says, "God, I'm glad you could make it."