Page 59 of Cold as Ice

“People like that aren’t anything to be proud of,” Anthony had finished dismissively. And maybe he hadn’t saidmen who like other men aren’t anything to be proud of, but the thought had resonated in Mal’s brain anyway.

By the time he’d broken down that assumption, the walls he’d erected were too hard, too impenetrable. And nobody tried.

Nobody until Elliott.

“I can do that,” Mal said, even though he didn’t know if he could. Not when he wasn’t sure what Elliott might say. He might just brush it off, claim that this was just what he did with everyone.

That Mal wasn’t special at all.

That the whole thing was one big cosmic joke, yet again.

Oh whoops, didn’t mean to lead you on. It’s like this with half a dozen guys.

“There you go,” his father said. Like they’d solved the whole thing.

After thanking him and saying goodbye, Mal hung up a moment later. Not feeling better about anything. Feeling an inescapable pit of dread. He didn’t want to talk about this—and definitely not with Elliott.

But who else could he discuss it with? There was nobody else.

Mal texted him.You still at Sammy’s?

Elliott responded almost instantly.No. Why would I stay there without you?

Mal felt a surge of . . .well, he didn’t knowwhatit was. Frustration? Anger? Unresolved, boiling hot lust?

Where did you go?

Back at my place. Lewis 468.

Mal was about to put the phone back in his pocket, and despite his anxiety, head right over to Lewis, when a second text from Elliott came through.You okay?

Was he okay? He was not fucking okay.

He wantedanswers.

You want more than answers.

But he tromped over to Lewis anyway, giving himself a pep talk the whole time. At first it had sounded exactly like his father talking to him, but that felt worse, somehow, so he shifted to something like,He’s not going to humiliate you. He’s not going to laugh at you. You’re going to clear up this misunderstanding and he’ll keep his distance from now on, and this . . .weird burning need will eventually fade.

Mal didn’t know if he really believed it was true, but it helped to think it.

He took the stairs instead of the elevator, and when he came to a halt in front of 468, he knocked, feeling breathless.

Elliott opened the door.

He was not wearing a shirt, only the same pair of low-slung forest green sweatpants he’d been in earlier. Gesturing Mal in, Elliott swung the door closed and then leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest.

His muscles were . . .God,they were perfect. Slim but chiseled. Perfectly proportionate. He was perfect and gorgeous all over, and Mal swallowed hard.

Objectively, he’d known this was true. Known it was true for awhile.

Now, the truth felt anything but objective. It felt like a hard, hot, inescapable knot in the base of his stomach. Pushing him. Prodding him.

“What’s this about?” Elliott asked.

Mal laughed, unamused. “I need to know,” he said, dropping his bag on the floor. Shoving his hood back. “I need to know what the fuck you’re about.”

Elliott didn’t react. “What I’m about?” he asked slowly.

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