Page 6 of Melting the Ice

He’d sent a text to Ramsey telling him they needed to talk, and the answer came through right when he was finishing up.

Jimmy’s. Ten minutes.

Brody grabbed his wallet and keys and headed out, walking the block down the street to Jimmy’s diner, which was open twenty-four hours and was one of the hockey team’s favorite places to hang out.

Ramsey was sitting in the back of the diner in a booth, leaning against the cushion. “Hey, man, good to see you,” he said, rising and pulling Brody into a hug which he only resisted for half a second before finally giving in.

“What the fuck,” Brody said, as he slid in opposite him. “You just sprung a new roommate on me without even bothering to call? Text? Facebook messenger me? Even send out some smoke signals?”

“Oh, that,” Ramsey said.

“Oh, that,” Brody retorted. “Like it’s not a big deal!” He paused. “Hey, wait, what did you think I was pissed about?”

Ramsey waved a hand. “Ah, nothing. No big deal. So you met Dean, huh?”

“Of course I met Dean.” Brody rolled his eyes. “I showed up today and he was there. Not you. What happened?”

“Had a different offer I had to consider,” Ramsey said. The waitress approached then, and they ordered. Brody got the chef salad—Ramsey shooting him a semi-concerned look—and then added a plate of Jimmy’s famous french fries.

“Whatdifferent offer?” Brody demanded once she’d left. “And don’t you dare say it was a better one.”

Ramsey Andresen was one of the few seniors on the Evergreens, and to say he was wild was an understatement. Brody had discovered very quickly that whatever he expected out of Ramsey was the opposite of what might happen.

Usually he’d have a good time anyway; italwaysworked out, so it was hard for anyone to stay mad at him, but this whole last-minute roommate switch was a whole new level.

But Ramsey just shrugged. “I think this is gonna work out better for us all,” he said. “Dean needed a place, and you needed a roommate you could rely on.”

“Wait, youknowDean? He’s a—”

Ramsey grinned. “Yeah, we won’t hold it against him, alright?”

“Idon’t give a shit if he plays football,” Brody said.

“Exactly.”

Brody rolled his eyes. “You still could’ve told me.”

“No, ’cause you would’ve thrown a fit. Like a melodramatic twelve-year-old.”

“Not fair,” Brody said.

“Listen, Faulkner. We’d have made each other crazy. You know that. I’m making you crazy right now.” Ramsey leaned forward, grinning. “Are you gonna deny it?”

“You’re making me crazy because you switched roommates on me!”

“Do you not like him?”

“He’s . . .he’s fine. He’s . . .” Brody trailed off. “He seems like a decent enough guy. Quiet, probably.”

“You’ll like that. And think of all the rumors you’re gonna save yourself, from everyone who would’ve assumed we were hooking up.”

“I’m not—”

“Yeah, but I am, and let’s face it, this face is kinda irresistible.”

Brody supposed Ramseywasgood-looking, if you swung that way, which he didn’t. Ramsey swungeveryway, which was fine, Brody hardly held it against him, but even if he’d been interested, he wouldn’t have wanted to be just another notch in Ramsey’s bedpost.

Which . . .that was another point.

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