Page 101 of ICED
Lila’s standing in the hallway, holding her stuffed rabbit by one floppy ear, blinking up at us like she’s asking whether we had toast or cereal.
Maya chokes on a laugh. I step back, scratching the back of my neck.
“Well,” I say slowly, “I guess I am, yeah.”
Lila shrugs. “Okay. I’ve got a boyfriend too. His name is Mason and he gave me a red crayon. It’s my favourite colour.”
“That’s a pretty serious gesture,” I say, nodding solemnly.
“He also said my curls looked like snakes. But nice snakes.”
Maya covers her face with her hands, laughing helplessly.
Lila pads closer, eyeing me with all the suspicion of a three-year-old with a bedtime agenda. “If you’re Mummy’s boyfriend, why do you sleep on the sofa?”
I glance at Maya, who’s still hiding behind her tea.
“Well,” I say carefully, “because it’s important that you feel safe and happy. And sometimes sharing a bed too soon can be confusing, especially if someone doesn’t quite understand what’s going on yet.”
Lila shrugs again. “You snore anyway. Sofa’s better.”
“Do not!”
“You do,” Maya says, still laughing. “Like a tractor.”
“Rude.”
Lila yawns and rubs her eyes. “Okay. But if you’re Mummy’s boyfriend, does that mean you’re gonna stay forever?”
That one hits me right in the chest. I crouch in front of her, brushing her curls back gently. “If you and your mum will have me? Yeah. I’d like to stay forever.”
She studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Okay. But you have to do those breakfast pancakes shaped like a bear and not burn them.”
“I’ll do my best, Jellybean.”
She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes. “Night-night, Bear.”
“Night-night.”
She toddles off to bed again, dragging her rabbit, and Maya exhales a shaky breath.
“Well,” she says, “that was a surprisingly chill interrogation.”
I take her tea and set it aside. Stepping closer. “You good?”
Her hands find my chest. “Yeah. Really good.”
“You sure?”
She lifts her face to mine. “Stay tonight. Not just on the sofa.”
“You sure about that?”
Her kiss is answer enough.
We move through the flat like it’s made of glass, quiet like even the floorboards are holding their breath so we don’t wake Lila. Our hands are everywhere as though we’re making sure the other is really here.
In the bedroom, Maya hesitates only once before reaching for the hem of my hoodie. “This okay?”
