Forty | "Bumper buddies."

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"Do you want another roll?" Elijah asked, and Liza turned her head to find him peering down at her over the back of his living room couch.

"No, I'm alright," she said, holding up the bowl of homemade chili that he'd prepared for dinner. "I'm still working on this. Thank you, though."

Her boyfriend (slam-skip-slam!) frowned. "Are you sure you've got enough?"

Ah, sweet Elijah. Who would have thought that such a goofy man was such a fretful, mothering person?

"Yeah, I'm sure." She had been gaining weight—albeit slowly—thanks to Elijah's cooking and insistence that they eat together whenever he was home. Still, her appetite was pretty poor, all things considered.

He assessed her for a moment, before nodding, almost to himself, and disappearing back into the kitchen. "Do you want any hot tea or anything?" He called, and she passed Milo an amused glance.

"No, Elijah, I'm alright, I promise."

"Alright, doll, if you insist." There was a clattering as he began to put away the leftovers, and she asked, "Do you need help?"

"No, gorgeous, I'm good. You just sit there and be your pretty self, babe."

He was such a nut sometimes. Snorting at his words, she shook her head but conceded that he wouldn't allow her to help. Even two weeks after the, well, incident, he was still doing his own version of groveling by ensuring that she rarely had to lift a finger when he was around.

To be fair, however, he had rarely allowed her to do much work even before the incident.

"Okay, Elijah."

"Okay. Hey, doll, I wanted to—" Elijah was cut off abruptly by the doorbell ringing. Liza jolted at the unexpected sound, her fingers curling tightly into the blanket Elijah had draped over her lap as she gazed at his front door. She could only see part of it from where she was sitting, but it was enough to send her anxiety skyrocketing.

Who was Elijah expecting? She didn't think Austin knocked, but maybe it was just a package, or maybe a Girl Scout or Boy Scout or maybe it was somebody trying to rob him or maybe it was Carson Pierce or—

"Liza," Elijah's voice was stern, and he peeked around the entrance to the foyer in the next second. "You're alright, gorgeous. You're with me, and I won't let anything happen to you. Stay there with Milo, pretty girl." She did, watching with bated breath as Elijah peeked through the peephole and . . .

Cursed, shook his head, and asked loudly, "Austin, you asshat; when have you ever even known I have a doorbell?"

It was Austin. Austin. Just Austin. Nice Austin, with his deep, southern drawl and kind eyes.

Thank God.

Austin hollered back, "I didn't wanna scare Tiny, 'case she's in there! Is she in there?"

Elijah shot her a loaded look, as if to say, "Can you believe I put up with this guy?" To Austin, he replied, "Yeah, she's in here, and you scared her even more with the doorbell, stupid. What do you need?"

"I need'er advice!"

Liza blinked, stunned. Austin needed her advice? With what?

"With what?" Elijah echoed her thought, sounding suspicious and a little protective.

"With women," Austin moaned. "Women, Elijah. What in the name o'God's green grass is up with women?"

Elijah blew out an aggravated sigh before turning to Liza. "Your call, babe. Should I let him in, or shall I kick his ass?"

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