Page 168 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
I meet her eyes.
“We are,” I say, without hesitation.
She blinks at that, caught off guard.
I don’t soften it.
“We’re just doing it for the right reasons.”
She studies me for a second longer, like she’s deciding whether to push it, whether to fight that line or let it settle.
She lets it settle.
Leans back into the chair slightly, her body giving in just enough to show she’s accepting it, even if she’s not entirely happy about it.
The drive back is quieter than it should be, but not in a way that feels heavy.
Contained.
That’s the only way I can describe it.
Elijah drives, his focus absolute, his attention flicking between mirrors, the road, everything around us like he’s mapping it all without consciously thinking about it.
Jackson sits beside her in the back, close but careful, his arm resting just behind her like a barrier, like he’s there without crowding her.
I sit on her other side, close enough to feel the warmth of her, close enough to see every small shift in her expression, every flicker of discomfort she tries to hide.
She’s quiet.
Not withdrawn.
Just… processing.
Coming back into herself.
There’s someone already standing at the entrance of her building when we arrive.
Not subtle. Not hidden. Just there. Visible. A message more than security.
Lia notices immediately.
“Elijah…”
“He stays,” he says, not even looking at her as he moves around to her side, opening the door, his focus already back on her as he helps her out.
“It’s a bit much,” she says, softer now, not pushing, just questioning.
“It’s not enough,” he replies.
And that’s it.
There’s no discussion.
No negotiation.
And neither Jackson nor I contradict him.
Getting her upstairs takes longer.
