Page 99 of Melting the Ice

“It’s your mom’s loss,” Brody said. Hedidn’tbring up Dean’s dad, who he knew had been little more than a sperm donor. That they weren’t in Dean’s life was both of their losses.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, brushing him off, but Brody hoped he’d believed him, anyway.

“Can I ask you something?” Brody said, suddenly thinking of what Ramsey had insinuated. When Dean nodded, he plunged ahead. He didn’t want to do this without Dean, but at the same time, he didn’t want to fuck this up. Whateverthiswas. “Are you worried at all about uh . . .going to dinner with us? Like making things weird between us?”

Dean didn’t answer immediately. “I can’t say I’m comfortable with it. I don’t have a lot of experience with parents. At least parents whoparent. But you need someone there, who’s there forjust you, that’s clear, and if you want me to be that person, I’m happy to do it.”

Brody noticed he didn’t really answer the question. He should let it go, take the easy win, but instead he found himself wanting to press on it, like a bruise.

“And you don’t think it’s gonna make anything weird?”

“You sayin’ this is like a date? A double date with your parents? Then yeah, that might be weird.”

Brody wanted to ask if it would be weird that it was a date or if it was because it was with his parents, but smartly shut his mouth this time. Maybe because he wasn’t sure hewantedto know the answer.

“Okay, yeah.” Brody nodded. He didn’t really know what he was agreeing to, but at least they’d gottensomeof the awkwardness out of the way. “We’d better go actually. We’re meeting them, there, at the restaurant.”

It was not that far, and normally Brody might just walk, but it was drizzling, and so he pulled out his keys.

Dean’s eyebrows skidded up. “Oh, we’re gonna take your fancy car, huh?”

“It’s not fancy, it’s just new.”

“Fancy to me,” Dean said, pulling his door open and sliding in. “Nice leather seats, even.”

“AmIfancy to you?” Brody wondered.

Dean’s gaze slipped over his form. And yeah, he’d dressed up a little. His nicest jeans, too, in a dark wash, and his button-up was a deep purple. Helped his summer tan look a little less washed out than it actually was.

“Yeah, but I like you anyway,” Dean said gruffly.

“Reassuring,” Brody teased. But he smiled all the way to the restaurant and even into the front.

The hostess led them back to the table and his parents stood up as they approached.

“Oh, Brody,” his mom said, wasting no time and embracing him immediately. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Mom,” he said, and he turned to where Dean had finished shaking hands with his dad. “And you remember Dean. My roommate.” He and Dean exchanged a little loaded glance. He hadn’t intended to say more, but he added, because he wasn’t sure he could help himself,and, besides, it was true now, “And a friend.”

His mom let go of him and pulled Dean, so much bigger and broader, but still as helpless in the face of her affection, into a hug. Gentle, too, with her, like she was something he could break and didn’t want to.

“I’m happy you could come tonight,” Tish said, directing one of her brightest smiles in Dean’s direction.

“Well,” Dean said, looking surprised by this, “I was happy Brody invited me. Not often we get a nice meal like this one.”

“And you order whatever you want, our treat,” his dad said as they sat down at the square table. Brody’s knee brushed Dean’sunder the table, and it felt intimate, even though he was pretty sure it had been accidental.

“Thanks, sir,” Dean said.

Maybe he didn’t meet parents very often—and probably never under these circumstances—but Brody had to say he was doing an exemplary job.

He’d have to give him a real nice thank you, later.

The waitress appeared, took their drink orders. He ordered a Coke. Dean stuck to iced tea. His parents each got a glass of red wine. And then, before Brody could even decide if he wanted the New York strip or the filet, his mom started in on the interrogation.

“What’s this about you asking about medical school prereqs?” she asked, turning to Brody, a worried crease appearing between her brows.

Brody shot his dad a look, who just raised his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t realize it was a secret,” he said.

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