"You have a cat." Celia had somehow missed that -- blame the half-asleep part. She was leaning in to peer at the front of his shirt. "You brought your cat with you? That can't be comfortable."

She was ignoring the bit about people in their underwear just as steadfastly as she was ignoring the actual people in their underwear themselves. If she didn't acknowledge it, it wasn't happening, and then she didn't have to blush herself to death.