"Good to know," Molly says, her voice as light as she can manage, almost teasing, a way of downplaying the whole thing. Really, by now, that sort of thing ought to have spoken for itself. She and Lee have been together, at least in some capacity, for months now, spending more and more time with each other, and it’s not like he hasn’t been there for her when shit’s gotten serious before. The one downside of something like this, though, especially when colored by her history, is that it’s hard to tell where the lines are, what’s determined by their dating or sleeping together or just being good friends. In this context, though, she doesn’t think there’s any mistaking what he means, and if she’s at all relieved by that, she has no intention of saying so.

Even most of the alternatives she considers, she quickly decides against. She wants to tell him that this doesn’t usually happen for her, both in terms of the way she feels and his reciprocating it; maybe more importantly, she wants to tell him that it was never anything like this with Patrick, that it never meant anything to her. Mostly, she just wants to kiss him, but with everything that’s still on her mind, she isn’t sure she’s ready for that. She does shift closer, though, swinging her legs over his so they’re resting in his lap, her body leaning sideways against his, head on his shoulder when she tips her chin up to smile at him, almost as if she’s already answered her own question. "In that case, would it be okay if I stay here tonight? I promise not to distract you from studying any more than I have already."