Miles laughed at Tracey's list of requirements. "Fair enough," he told her, offering her his arm. "I can retrieve the butterbeer from the kitchen myself. Of course, feel free to remove one or more of those items from your list at anytime."
When she'd taken hold of his arm, though he judged it to be somewhat reluctantly, he apparated them both into his living room. One look would tell her it was definitely home to a single guy, but it was clean and spacious.
"You do plan on staying a while if I promise not to dim the lights or take off my shirt, right?" he asked. "And can I get you something to drink besides the butterbeer?"
He gestured toward the couch, releasing her arm as he headed toward the kitchen, pausing to wait for her answer.