Page 5 of Cold as Ice

Elliott was close enough to Malcolm that he could practically feel him stiffen.

And not in the fun place, either.

Disappointing.Catastrophically fucking disappointing.

“Apparently,” Elliott said, trying to match Ramsey’s casual tone. Like he didn’t give two shits at how un-fun Malcolm Reynolds had turned out to be.

He’d hoped they’d havesomecommon ground other than hockey and liking guys.

But,he reminded himself,you don’t need to have anything in common or even to have fun to fall into bed together.

That was true. He wasn’t looking for a relationship or love or that whole happily-ever-after thing, though he supposed he mightsomeday. But for right now, he was having too much fun.

Or at least he wastryingto have too much fun.

“Malcolm, you really need to get out more. Talk to people,” Ramsey said.

“Sure, I guess so, butthisguy?” Malcolm glanced over at Elliott. “You should have seen him peacocking right over. Reminded me of someone. Oh yeah, that’s right.You.”

Ramsey just laughed again, like Elliott’s ego puncturing like a sad balloon was the funniest shit he’d ever heard.

Well, at leastsomeonewas laughing.

“Hey, kid, it’s alright,” Ramsey said, patting him on the shoulder and giving him a commiserating smile. “That’s just how our Malcolm is. I should’ve warned you before you came all the way over here to strike out.”

“Strike out?” Malcolm looked confused again.

“It means we get you’re not interested in us fun-loving plebeians,” Ramsey teased. “We get you’re focused and we’re just a distraction. Right, kid?”

Elliott ground his teeth together. “Right.”

“Well, good news is that I know alotof guys who’d love to meet you,” Ramsey cajoled. “You wanna meet some of them?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I would.” He straightened his back and shot Malcolm one last hot glare before walking off with Ramsey.

So he couldn’t have the brain-melting, sex-on-a-stick guy? That didn’t mean he couldn’t have plenty of fun.

After Ramsey lured the young idiot kid with promises of debauchery and drink, of people who actuallywantedto party, Malcolm didn’t see much reason to stick around.

He’d put in his time, attending even when he hadn’t wanted to, all because Ramsey had batted those big baby blue eyes and convinced him it was ‘good for the team’ or some other such bullshit.

And it had been bullshit.

Sure, a handful of their teammates had been there, but the only one he’d talked to had been the kid.

Elliott, his uncooperative brain supplied as he walked home on the dark streets towards Clark, the dorm he was living in this year.

A lot of juniors moved off campus, but Mal had decided to stay. He didn’t mind the slightly stricter rules because he didn’t drink and he didn’t party and he had no interest in finding a roommate to help offset the costs of living in an apartment.

Mal took the stairs instead of the elevator, running up the three flights to his floor, to compensate for the burger and frieshe’d shared with Ramsey and Ivan at Jimmy’s diner before the party.

Really, he reminded himself, it was so much better this way. This way he had his own single room, with no need to make small talk unless he felt the need.

And he rarely felt the need.

Of course, that was when he turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks.

Jane. Sitting next to her door, knees tucked up under her, leaving an expanse of bare thigh visible that he knew she wouldn’t be showing him if she didn’t have that sheen of booze in her eyes.

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