They do. [ She gives one quick, curt nod before offering Kavinsky the biggest shit-eating grin that she can manage from over the rim of her glass. ] But you don't.

[ Veronica watches him take a swig from the bottle as though the contents inside of it were nothing more than water -- inwardly, she's entertaining the idea of trying that if he ever ends up hungover on her porch again. It would at least be entertaining.

Her eyes roll at his response. ] Yes, I came to that conclusion without your help, surprisingly. But why were you sleeping there? Don't you have a porch of your own to pass out on? [ Taking a sip from her glass, she idly taps at one of Kavinsky's ribs with her foot. ]