Page 45 of Melting the Ice

On the fifth and final set, Dean could see he was struggling a little, muscles trembling with the effort, face glowing red, but he finished it with the same graceful, intentional movements he’d started with.

“Great job,” Dean said, nodding with his approval.

“Thanks.” Brody was breathless now, chest flushed, sweat trickling down to the waistband of his shorts, and Dean clenched his fists again.

He didn’t want to be thinking like this. He didn’t want to be so hyper-aware of Brody, not this way. He hadn’t ever wanted to live a lie, but he also hadn’t expected thatthis guywas gonna be the one to make him face these hard truths.

“You ready now?” Brody asked, after he stood and then wiped down the machine.

Ugh. He even wipes down the machines.

“Yeah.”

Dean added the weight back.

“How many of these can you do?” Brody wondered as Dean settled onto the bench.

“A few,” Dean said. “We’ll start with thirty, six reps of five and go from there.”

Dean couldn’t see Brody easily, with him standing behind the bench, but he could practicallyhearhis eyebrows rise.

“Alright,” Brody said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Dean sank into his place—a spot in his mind with laser-sharp focus, where he always went when faced with a physical challenge—and let the rest of the world fall away. Even Brody.

There was only the bar and its weight and his own body, and how he could not only move it, but control it.

His knuckles creaked with the strength of his grip, and he lifted the bar and began his first rep.

Breathe. In and out.

One down. Four to go.

Then there were three.

Two.

One.

Dean set the bar down on its rest and let out another big gust of air, clearing out his lungs and filling them with fresh.

His arms felt strong, invincible, but he knew this was the easy part.

After he hit twenty, that was when things were going to get hard. Orharder.

“You’re really good at this.” Brody’s voice drifted over him.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed.

He hadn’t been, at first.

But once he’d learned the intricacies of the combine tests, he’d started working hard on getting as many reps as he could.

He did the second set.

And then the third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth.

He was sweating in earnest now, his arms burning, but he still had some more in him. He wanted to push himself.For the combine, he lied to himself,not because of who’s watching.

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