Oh jesus, like he needs more injuries. He's glad they both avoided that one. Conrad waits a moment, then follows Laura into the kitchen, getting a better look around this time. He can almost smell the coffee, and he misses it.

Frowning, Conrad wrings a hand over the back of his neck, wishing he could sit and have a coffee with her. She seems nice. He can't even pretend, like he does at home; it would be a waste of coffee and effort.

"No, n--uh, not anymore," he mutters regretfully, eyes on the cupboard doors. "Ah... thank you for the offer, though."