Page 21 of Cold as Ice

Elliott rolled his eyes. “And people sayIhave an ego.”

“Is it ego if it’s true?” Ramsey laughed. “But seriously. It’s ineveryone’sbest interest if you two can figure your shit out. Besides, it’s good for a guy to learn to work for it every once in awhile.”

“I hate you,” Elliott said. “You won’t even tell me how?”

“How I’d crack Malcolm?” Ramsey laughed again and shook his head. “Hell no. You want him? You gotta figure out how to get him. And don’t tell me you’re not interested, because if you weren’t, you wouldn’t be constantly needling him for any kind of reaction.”

“Ireallyhate you.”

Elliott sucked down the rest of his smoothie as Ramsey chuckled.

“Well, how ’bout this? What went wrong tonight?”

“It was fine. He’d totally pulled a Malcolm and done all this prep work to tutor me. It was actually . . .” Elliott took a deep breath. “It was actually really thoughtful, especially considering how much he didn’t want to do it.”

“So he was typical Malcolm—maybe even more than that. And you bit his head off.”

“I didnot. We studied together for a whole hour, and it was fine. Actually more like good. A whole hour with no bickering. And then he says something about how shocked he was, that I could pay attention for a whole hour to something that wasn’t drinking or partying or hot guys.”

“You did not,” Ramsey said, before Elliott even had to admit how he hadn’t been able to let the opening go.

“I . . .it’s not like it was really even true! Though it wasn’t a lie either. If I could take him, who is absolutely smoking hot, or another tutor whowasn’t, you know what I’m picking. That doesn’t mean that I . . .or that I didn’t. . .”Elliott trailed off. Buried his face in his hands.

“Not that Malcolm isn’t attractive, ’cause he is, but honey, I got to tell you, the only one who’s obsessed with his business isyou. But here’s the thing—you hitting on him? It’s not going to work.”

“You said that already,” Elliott said sullenly.

“What you said tonight, that pissed him off, didn’t it?”

Elliott shrugged, not wanting to say it out loud—hehad an ego too, thank you very much, Ramsey, and this was puncturing it more thoroughly than it had been in a long, long time.

Maybe since early last year, when he’d hit on Malcolm and he’d just brushed him off.

“You gotta stop telling him you want him, that you think he’s hot, etcetera etcetera, and make him wantyou. Makehimthinkyou’rehot.”

Elliott opened his mouth but Ramsey just shook his head. “Please don’t claim those two things are the same.”

“I wasn’t going to. I get the difference,” Elliott retorted. “But you just said, I should ask him to fuck me.”

“I did, but what I meant was ask himafteryou’ve gotten him. Now, for the love of God, pleaseusesome of this gold fucking star advice.” Ramsey slid out of the booth. “See you at the game tomorrow night.”

Elliott sat there for a long moment. Then another. And another still.

Long enough the guy at the register craned his neck to make sure he was still sitting there.

But the whole time Elliott was thinking of what Ramsey said.

If he could be right.

Not just that, even.

But if Elliottwantedhim to be right. If Elliott was willing to figure this shit out, and even if he did, if it would make any difference whatsoever.

This was a lot of fucking work just to get a guy underneath him—when he could have nearly anyone else.

He could swing by the Gamma Sigma house tomorrow night after the game and pick up anyone else he wanted. Even guys who claimed they were straight—he could tempt them onto their knees.

Finally, he left Sammy’s and on his way back to his dorm room, he decided once and for all that he was done with lusting after Malcolm McCoy.

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