Page 76 of Melting the Ice

Dean didn’t say,I want to remember this night, every single technicolor moment of it, but maybe he didn’t need to. Because Brody was thinking it anyway.

“To winning,” Dean said, clinking his bottle with Brody’s. Brody nodded and they both took a sip.

“You do anything else freaking unreal and completely inhuman today?” Brody asked, because that was easier than talking about his own game, where it felt like he’d barely been hanging on.

Dean blushed. It was adorable. “Just the usual.”

Wes approached and draped an arm around Dean’s shoulders—not the easiest thing in the world, considering his height—and said, “If you call the usual two and a half sacks and like half a dozen pressures. The poor QB opposite me barely had time to set his feet the whole game.”

“I’m not sure why you know my stats,” Dean said.

“It’s ’cause he’s your friend,” Brody said. “You know his, don’t you?”

Dean glanced over at Wes. “What, three hundred some-odd yards, and three touchdowns, right?”

Wes smiled. “Exactly.”

“Yep, you two are definitely unreal,” Brody said.

“Like you’re not killing it too,” Wes scoffed.

But Dean didn’t say anything. Just met Brody’s eyes, and there was a hidden concern—a hidden question—in his gaze.Was it okay? You doing okay?

He nodded briefly, and Dean smiled, the corner of his mouth tilting up.

“I’m doing my part,” Brody said.

“Eastern has got this slippery asshole,” Ramsey chimed in. “We had our hands full today.”

“But we handled him.” If Ramsey hadn’t been there, Brody didn’t know if he’d have been able to, but Ramsey was playing the best hockey of his life and that was bailing Brody’s ass out.

It was a reminder—both good and bad—that even as Brody flailed, his future suddenly up in the air, some of his teammates were finding the new coaching direction a positive change.

“Yep,” Ramsey said with a firm nod. “You guys go out and have fun. Enjoy the party.”

Dean glanced in the direction of the living room. “Yeah? Should we?”

Brody didn’t want to go back to the crowded living room, full of people he didn’t know and didn’t give a shit about. He’d come to the party tonight because Dean had asked him.

Because Dean was going to be there.

“Let’s go sit outside. It’s quiet and there’s some back steps . . .”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed with a decisive nod, and like he was familiar with them too, he led the way out the back door.

Brody wasn’t surprised not many people were out here and the steps down the back porch were empty. He sat down on the top one, and Dean dropped down next to him.

“You want to talk about it?” Dean asked into the silence.

“Not particularly,” Brody said, sipping his beer. “It’s just depressing.”

“How so?”

Brody took a deep breath. “Some days it feels like I’m gonna be stuck in this in-between purgatory forever. And it fucking sucks.”

“That’s not true.” Dean touched him on the knee, a fleeting touch that still lit him inside. “You’re gonna figure this shit out. You’re too smart not to.”

“You don’t gotta be nice and supportive. You can tell me pretty lies instead.”

---