Sweet Like Ice Cream

“Proving a point,” he said, his tone dropping into something softer. He shifted slightly beneath me, testing the weight. “See? My Leg’s fine.”

I glanced up at him, my face heating at the realization that we were so close. “You could’ve just said that instead of—”

“Would you have believed me?” he cut in, tilting his head.

“…Probably not,” I admitted begrudgingly.

“There you go.” He grinned, clearly pleased with himself, but he didn’t move me or let go. Instead, he leaned forward just a little, enough that his voice dropped lower. “So, are you satisfied now?”

I swallowed hard, unsure whether he was talking about his leg—or something else entirely. “Y-yeah,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Good.” His voice was calm, but there was a playful glint in his eyes, like he knew exactly what he was doing.