Rook didn't even react to what Mab was doing to poor James. He was very much used to her doing so by now and would have been more surprised if she had been keeping her hands to herself than if she wasn't. Because Mab keeping her hands to herself would have meant something was wrong. "Of course I do."
It was a natural instinct for Rook to tilt his head in return as James did, the raven recognizing the moment for what it was. It was always interested when the ghoul unknowingly mimicked the habits of it. Those little bits of itself that slipped through via the blood he gave to him. The inner raven was vain enough that seeing them mirrored pleased it.
"I'm a raven, James." Kindred he may actually be but he was too deeply bonded with that inner beast that made him a Gangrel to consider himself anything but the raven even if he had learned to live outside of that shape. "Ravens mate for life." Or unlife if one was an undead raven. His head stayed tilted and for a moment his pupils dilated to almost nothing as he waited to see if his ghoul caught on to what he was saying.