Page 147 of Cold as Ice

“No matter what,” Elliott repeated, eyes glowing as he reached up, linking his hands behind Mal’s neck, stroking the exposed skin there. “You’re not getting rid of me, even if we have to fuck over FaceTime every day.”

“Aaaaand this is exactly why I warned you the parentals were on their way over,” Nina said dryly.

“I love you,” Mal said and deciding he didn’t give a fuck, leaned down and kissed Elliott.

“Love you, too,” Elliott murmured. Then he let go and Mal had to shove his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t grab him back again.

Sure enough, five minutes later, the Jones parents arrived, hugging both Elliott and Malcolm.

He liked Elliott’s parents, but it was going to take a long time to feel comfortable with them—not because they weren’t welcoming or kind or thoughtful. In fact, they were all three of those things. It wasn’t hard to see how they’d raised a man like Elliott. Or the sisters for that matter.

But their open warmness was a hard thing for Malcolm to trust. To even understand. He was working his way around to it.Frankly, the load of bullshit that the sisters liked to give him put him more at ease.

Except when Connie and Macey tried to decide which of them was going to end up pregnant.

They all took their seats, and under the table, Elliott reached for his hand. Squeezing it. Mal could feel the dampness of it, and heknewwithout being told, that despite Elliott’s breezy, confident exterior, he was nervous, deep down.

How could he not be?

This was the first day of the rest of his life.

With every name that was called from the stage, Malcolm held his breath. Would they be okay? They would. He’d stake his whole life on it. On their love making it, in the face of any adversity.

But he didn’t goddamnwantthe adversity.

He wanted happiness and ease and light. Elliott in the mornings, pillow crease on his cheek, stealing all the covers.

He’d get it eventually, no matter what, but he wanted it now. He craved itnow.

When the team before Toronto picked, and Elliott’s name wasn’t called, his fingers crushed Mal’s.

“Hey, hey, it doesn’t matter. Whatever happens, it doesn’t matter,” Mal said, leaning close. Aware that probably every goddamn camera in the place was probably panning to their table now. They weren’t super open about their relationship, but it wasn’t a secret, either.

Elliott was tense, now. Malcolm could feel it. Not just in the iron grip of his hand, but the plastered-on quality of his smile.

“Yeah?” Elliott asked.

“You know it doesn’t matter. I love you. No matter what.”

But please, don’t make this no matter what.

The contingent announcing the Toronto pick walked onto the stage. Mal recognized everyone—from the general managerabout to announce their first round pick, to the current and past players surrounding him.

They’d asked him if he wanted to be up there, but Mal had shaken his head. He knew they’d only asked him because there was a good chance they’d be drafting Elliott, but Mal needed to be with him, whether he was drafted by Toronto or another team.

The GM stepped up to the microphone.

“With the tenth pick in the NHL draft,” he said, “the Toronto Maple Leafs are extremely proud to select . . .” He paused, and Mal had to clench down, wishing there was something to hold on to, to let out some of that unbelievable pressure. “From Portland University, Elliott Jones.”

The whole table erupted.

Mal could count on one hand the number of times he’d ever lost control.

He lost control today.

He lost his whole goddamn mind.

Jumping up together, he and Elliott grabbed each other, and for a second, there was only them as the room erupted in applause around them.

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