Page 44 of Cold as Ice

Maybe he’d enjoyed last night, too.

Mal was sure that the pleasant after-effects of yesterday evening—how much he’d actually shockingly enjoyed just studying with someone, withElliott—would fade, especially during practice.

Because practice was generally where the two of them sniped at each other the most.

Mal took practice seriously. Elliott did not. He didn’t put his full effort into drills. Goofed off and spent more time laughing with Ramsey and Ivan and Finn than he did focusing on how they could make their line even better.

It drove Mal nuts, and now he was beginning to wonder if he’d done that on purpose.

Because it was similar today, Elliott a shade slower than he was during a game as they skated through the first set of back and forth drills, but it didn’t feel insolent, like a slap in the face, like it always had.

It was still a little grating, and Mal didn’tlikeit, because he’d never approached anything he didn’t commit a full effort to, but he was beginning to understand that when it came down to it, when itreallymattered, he could trust Elliott to bring it.

Or at least that was what he told himself.

He took a break, grabbing his Gatorade from the wall, squirting it into his mouth.

Ivan skated over, sending up a shower of ice as he came to a sharp stop next to him. “You seem marginally less pissed off than normal,” he observed. “You finally getting used to the kid?”

“He’snineteen,” Malcolm said, even though just a few weeks ago, he’d probably have made a similar comment—and in a far more disparaging way.

“You tryin’ to convince yourself he’s all grown up, now?” Ivan joked.

Mal rolled his eyes. “No.”

But Ivan was observant and unflinchingly honest, and probably more than a little right.

Because, yeah, Mal couldn’t forget how he’d felt against him in the booth yesterday. He’d certainly felt like a man. Firm and confident and reassuring. And that was just his attitude.

There was his body . . .

No. You are not going there.

It had been easier—noteasy, buteasier—to inform his cock they were ignoring how goddamn attractive Elliott was when he was driving Mal nuts. When he was an insolent puppy, practically begging to be collared.

Now,well.

He was having a little more trouble.

Even right now, in the middle of a practice, on the ice, a place where Mal’s focus was usually tight, his cock was half-hard, throbbing as Elliott glanced at him, his bright green eyes skimming over his figure. That look was usually an annoyance. Now it was just arousing.

“Yeah, you can’t stand himat all,” Ivan muttered dryly and patted him on the shoulder pad before skating away.

“Everything all good?” Zach skated in and stopped, leaning over the boards.

“Yeah,” Malcolm said. Because what else was he supposed to say?Elliott’s driving me crazy. And not in the usual way.

“You wanna run some more shot drills?” Zach asked. “Or will that just—”

He knew what Zach was going to say.Will that just put Elliott and you at each other’s throats again?

“No, we’re good,” Mal said before Zach could ask the question.

“You know, I kinda think you are,” Zach said, a thread of disbelief in his voice. “The tutoring must be going well, then.”

“Ah, yeah.”

“Well, I’m happy to be wrong.”

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