Page 122 of Melting the Ice

“I’m not gonna lie. I like having the excuse of hanging on to you.”

He did. Feeling Brody pressed against him was wonderful, and he never wanted it to end, even if they had to keep ice skating to do it.

“You can do it anytime you want,” Brody said, and there was that look in his eyes again as he gazed up at Dean. That warm gooey look he’d worn the other night and tonight, too. Often, now, once Dean thought about it.

“But—” Before Dean could stutter out what that could mean—exposure, for both of them, adding another layer of seriousness and intent to their relationship—Brody waved a hand.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said, and Dean was far too aware of the way Brody’s body tensed against his own.

Dean wanted to let it go. He’d let Brody inside, hadn’t he? He’d tried his best to stop deflecting, and wasn’t that going to be enough? But even as he thought it, Dean knew that couldn’t be enough.

Brody wouldn’t just want his non-deflections, but he’d want his truths, too.

“I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t like it if meant people knew,” Dean said. “I don’t give a shit what people think of me, or what kind of opinions they have of who I want in my bed or holding my hand.”

“Even the NFL?”

Dean shrugged. “If you can play, they don’t seem to care the way they used to. There’s lots of queer guys, living openly now, who play in the pros. I’m not going to worry about it.”

Brody grinned. “Dean, you worried about how much you were smiling on the sideline.”

“Yeah, that was fucking ridiculous.” Dean could see it now. Could feel it. But he also understood where Ian and some of those scouts had been coming from. He could look back on the Dean of the beginning of the year and see how tensely wound he was.

“But you worried about it,” Brody said, loyally.

“I’m not worried about it now,” Dean said. Hesitated, but plunged forward anyway. “If it meant . . .ifyouwanted . . .”

Brody smiled, soft and tender. There was no way else to describe it and Dean felt floored thathe’dput that look on Brody’s face. That he made him feel . . .well, however he felt.

Maybe even the way you feel.

“Noted,” Brody said, nodding. And he slid his hand down from around Dean’s waist and tucked it into his, squeezing it once.

“Don’t go too far away, though,” Dean warned. “I’m still half a breath away here from wiping out completely.”

“Nah,” Brody retorted. “You’re good.” He leaned in. “So fucking good, Dean.”

Dean completely missed his next slide, toe pick catching on the ice, and he went down,hard, and to his embarrassment, he dragged Brody right down to him.

But Brody was laughing the whole way, even as his ass hit the ice. “Whoops. Note to self, don’t turn you on while we’re skating.”

“Too late,” Dean said, still chuckling, as they tried to untangle their legs and get back to their feet.

A minute later they were back up, and skating again, but this time Dean wasn’t going to take a fucking thing for granted. Damn toe picks.

“Hey, look,” Brody said, gesturing across the ice, “it’s Wes and Marcus.”

Sure enough it was them. There were other players there, too. The whole hockey team, for sure, even Brody’s coaches, who were settled at one end of the rink, Coach Blackburn, arms crossed, leaning down as Zach said something to him.

“Who’s that guy?” Dean asked, pointing to an older man with dark auburn hair and broad shoulders, cutting through the crowd with easy, quick strokes that spoke of a history of familiarity on the ice.

“Oh, that’s Jacob Braun. He played in the NHL for a few years. A goalie. Knew Finn’s dad. But he retired near here. Comes in sometimes to give Finn and Nick some tips.” Brody shot him a look. “He’s weird, though. Like a lot of goalies. Keeps to himself, now.”

Brody pointed out Mal and Elliott, both forwards on the Evergreens, names that Dean recognized from following Brody’s games this year. They seemed to be deep in the middle of a discussion, verging on an argument.

“They okay?” Dean wondered as they passed by them.

Brody just shrugged. “They’re always arguing. Very different approaches to the game. And life, honestly.”

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