It was amazing how rapid and intense his heart sank then lifted then sank again at the thought of a friend on the couch. First because a friend meant a chaperone, and oh god he did not want to be chaperoned; he wanted to follow her through into her kitchen and wrap his arms around her waist, all previous plans be damned. This feeling was beaten back a little by the wisdom that her having a friend here was great because it meant he had to control himself, and then finally his heart sank again because her friend was out and there was no one external around to control him because god knew (and he knew) how awfully he struggled to control himself.
All that in the space of a second or two. "Sure!" Much said, stepping over the threshold but putting both of his hands deep into his pockets. "How you been today, you been okay? Weathered the rest of the storm? Oh hey, did you want help moving those pots back outside, after we– haha– finally got round to bringing them in last time?"
Was it a good idea thinking about how they'd got distracted last time? Well, Much was doing it anyway!