Page 134 of Melting the Ice

He glanced back at where Wes and Marcus were laughing together with Damian.

Maybe he should have asked, before this.

“Come on,” Ramsey said to Brody. “I wanna talk to you about something.” He was tucking his head close, like he wanted to tell Brody a secret, and Dean hated it—not the fact that Ramsey was doing it, but the fact that Brody wasn’t leaning away.

Maybe his closeness with Dean wasn’t special. Maybe it was something he did with everyone, and Dean was just now noticing this.

There’s certain thingsyou knowhe’s only done with you, that voice inside Dean reminded him.

“I . . .I’m gonna go talk to Wes,” Dean said, hating how uncertain he sounded.

And how Brody just gave him an absentminded nod as Ramsey dragged him off to God knew where.

“What’s going on?” Wes asked Dean as he wandered over, probably looking something close to blindsided.

“Yeah, you look weird. Like someone just stole your favorite toy,” Marcus pointed out.

“Someone did, I think,” Damian teased.

And okay, maybe nothing about this was subtle.

Hehadn’t been subtle.

But what about Brody? Was he not . . .

Dean didn’t let the thought out, but it was hovering in the back of his mind, still. Ugly and poisonous and potentially life-destroying.

“You should just tell him you’re in love with him,” Wes said bluntly.

“Now? But—”

“He’s probably thinking this is kosher because youhaven’t,” Marcus pointed out.

Dean stared at the doorway they’d disappeared through.

He didn’t think Brody would do anything with Ramsey. HetrustedBrody.

But Ramsey was Ramsey. He could have anyone in his bed. All he had to do was give them a come hither glance and they werehis.

Dean was not nearly that smooth. Or charming. Or skilled.

“We did talk,” Dean said, hating how defensive he sounded. How defensive he felt. “We’re . . .I thought we were getting there.”

“And why didn’t you drop the big L then?” Wes wanted to know.

God, why hadn’t he? Maybe he should have. The night they’d broken the bed. Or any other night after that, when he’d woken up next to Brody, so fucking in love and unsure what to do about it. He should have, the night he’d guessed the truth about Brody. He’d thought, earlier that evening, at the fundraiser, when Brody had made it clear he didn’t care if people knew, that maybe Brody was beginning to really care about him.

“I . . .I thought it might be too soon,” Dean said.

“Please. You’ve been practically inseparable for months now. Ever since he moved in.” Marcus looked like he was gearing up for a closing argument, and Dean let his certainty wash over him. “He’s crazy about you. You’re crazy about him. You’re the only two who don’t realize what you look like together.”

“Like a couple,” Wes said, finishing his boyfriend’s argument.

Dean let out a heavy sigh. “What if he . . .what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Wes shrugged. “Then he doesn’t. But I’m thinking he does. Sometimes, we all have to risk something to get something in return. Did football ever give you any guarantees?”

“No.” Dean could acknowledge that.

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