Page 115 of Melting the Ice

But the right time to tell Ramsey wasn’t now, when they were flush with the win and Brody hadn’t ever been prouder of how he’d played.

He was on top of the world right now. And telling everyone—tellingRamsey—was going to be understandably really fucking hard.

He decided he was allowed to want to wait so he could savor this moment just a little longer.

“Alright, well, just know . . .that was a fucking sick move out there. You keep skating that well, you’re gonna give Elliott a run for his money.”

“No, I’m not,” Brody said, laughing. “But I appreciate the thought, anyway.”

Ramsey smacked him on the shoulder. “Proud of you, Bro.”

For a split second, Brody wondered if his reaction would’ve been the same if he’d told Ramsey the whole truth, but he shoved that thought away before he could consider it.

It wasn’t fair to Ramsey. And it definitely wasn’t fair to Brody, who was on top of the world right now.

“Thanks,” Brody said.

“Let’s go grab a celebratory drink at Darcelle’s,” Ramsey said, and Brody shrugged in agreement.

Then he grabbed his phone from his locker, scrolling through the messages he’d gotten. His parents had both sent congrats, a bunch of friends had, too—even Gina had.

But the text that stopped Brody, fingers frozen over his screen, was Dean’s.

What a fucking goal, Dean had written.We need to celebrate it.

Brody’s heart beat a little faster.

He wouldn’t say that either of them had gotten better about being honest and laying out when they wanted each other—though that was beginning to seem like all the fucking time, anyway—but Brody knew this was an invitation because he’d been learning Dean.

“Hey, I’m gonna take a rain check on that drink,” Brody said.

Ramsey shot him a knowing look. “Dean booty call you? Ohwait.” Ramsey slapped himself on the thigh. “Itcan’tbe a booty call cause you two are head over heels crazy about each other. It’s never just a booty call.”

“Ramsey,” Brody chided.

“I mean it. You two are nuts about each other and just won’t talk about it. I don’t know what makes me more insane, that you fell for a football player, that you fell in love at all, or that you won’t actuallydoanything about it.”

“Trust me, I’m doing something about it.” He was gonna fucking pin Dean to the bed and demand he fuck him, finally. That was what he was gonna do about it.

“Not sex.” This time Ramsey smackedhim.

Unfair.

“What’s wrong with sex?”

“Absolutely fucking nothing, I’m so glad you’re finally doing it, butJesus, read that boy’s mind. It’s not very hard. He went to dinner with yourparents.”

“Because I asked,” Brody objected.

“Exactly. Youasked.” Ramsey paused. “Maybe you can deny he’s caught feelings, but you can’t deny you’re there. I saw your face when I said the bigLword. You’re super there and loving every moment of it.”

“I don’t know about that,” Brody said. But hewasloving every moment of it, wasn’t he? And if he couldn’t get enough just of Dean’s body and his touch, but his verypresence, wasn’t that . . .

Well.

“You think about it,” Ramsey said, patting him on the back with a sly smile blooming across his handsome face. “Maybeafteryou get him into bed.”

Brody didn’t want to think about it, but he was, inevitably, as he walked home to the apartment he and Dean shared.

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