Page 43 of Cold as Ice

“You’ve been going for his dick since the moment you showed up on campus. Now you’re just finally going about it in a way that means it might actually happen. So yeah. I’m thinking it’s for the best. This is good. A good day.”

Itwasa good day, Elliott agreed as he finished his coffee.

They caught up to Mal as he headed towards the players’ entrance.

Mal turned as he heard them, and their gazes met.

That heat he was too familiar with bloomed inside him. Normally he’d say something cutting. Or explicitly designed so Mal wouldn’t dismiss him. Wouldn’t look away.

But Mal wasn’t looking away now.

“Ivan. Elliott. Good to see you.” His voice was as serious as ever. But even as they walked into the facility he hadn’t taken his eyes off Elliott.

“Malcolm,” Elliott said, and if he stepped a little too close to him and felt Mal stiffen in response when they walked through the doorway, then that wasn’t a bad thing, either.

Usually Mal ignored him until he didn’t have a choice—at least until Elliottmadehim pay attention to him, typically by saying or doing something that would ensure all his attention was focused where it belonged: on him.

But today, he actually turned to Elliott and as they walked into the locker room, said, “Hey, how was your statistics class today?”

He was supposed to ask. But Elliott didn’t bother to tamp down the thrill that all that serious intent was focused on him.

It turned out that was even better than having the bright, burning spotlight of Mal’s frustration and annoyance blinding him.

“Good. I think I followed the lecture a bit better. There’s a quiz next class.”

Mal nodded gravely. “We’ll make sure you’re ready for it. I know the goal is the big test, but it doesn’t hurt to ace these, too.”

“Sounds like a very Mal thing to say,” Elliott teased, but gently. Easily.

And for once, Mal didn’t take offense.

He smiled.

He goddamnedsmiled.

“Hey, acing things isn’t a bad thing,” Mal said.

Elliott nodded. “If it’s statistics, I’ll take it. How’s the paper coming?”

Frustration burned in his blue eyes. “I don’t think it’s very good. Or that I’m very good at this.”

“Must feel weird to not be brilliant at something.” Elliott stopped in front of his locker.

Mal’s was two down.

Someone, probably someone very intelligent, had put Brody between them. Likely with the hope that they wouldn’t destroy their easygoing teammate just to get at each other.

“Not weird, but . . .worrisome,” Mal said, and to Elliott’s continued astonishment, he didn’t immediately head to his own locker.

“You’ll get there,” Elliott promised.

“Right.” Mal shifted from one foot to the other, and Elliott realized this was one of a very limited list of times he’d ever seen the guy look uneasy. Unsure. “You wanna study tomorrow night?”

“We can do a tutoring session, yeah,” Elliott said. Even if he had to rearrange his schedule, he’d make it happen.

“Ah yeah, yes,” Malcolm said, nodding, as he turned away.

And Elliott wondered if that hadn’t been what he’d actually meant at all.

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