Page 74 of Cold as Ice

In fact, he didn’t say anything else, not until Mal was done showering and was heading back to finish changing. Ramsey had announced they were still on for the arcade, and that would be good for everyone. A nice, healthy distraction to get their heads out of their asses.

But as Mal was about to head out, towel firmly around his waist, Elliott stopped him, wet fingers wrapping around his arm.

“What?” Mal asked. Glancing down at the end of the room, where a few of the very last stalls were taken by a few guys. Brody and Greene. Everyone else had finished.

He half expected Elliott to suggest they take advantage of the nearly empty showers to break a whole bunch of team rules—spoken andunspoken.

But Elliott was still looking at him with those puppy dog eyes, sad and depressed and guilt-stricken.

“I really meant it, I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t,” Mal huffed in frustration. Acutely aware of how ironic this was. He’d have given just about anything only a few weeks ago for Elliott to be sorry. To apologize. To see the error in his ways. But now, it just pissed him off. He didn’t want Elliott to be sorry. Not for something that wasn’t his fault.

“You’re mad. I know you’re mad,” Elliott said. “You said it yourself.Don’t push. Don’t get too aggressive. And I did. I kept pushing. I pushed them right into where they wanted us to be.”

“Don’t give them too much fucking credit. They only took advantage of a lull, a hard moment. They didn’tplanit,” Mal said, chuckling without humor.

“Does it matter if it was premeditated or not?” Elliott’s voice was bitter.

“Stop beating yourself up. It happens. Shit happens.”

“I can’t believe you’re not pissed about this,” Elliott said. And now he just sounded self-righteous.

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Get over yourself,” he retorted.

“See, Itoldyou that you were pissed,” Elliott reiterated.

Well, he hadn’t been, not before, but now Elliott kept pushing, keptwantinghim to be mad. Like he was Mal’s whipping boy, and that wasn’t going to work for him at all.

“I’m not,” Mal said, but even he could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“Youare. You always are, aren’t you?”

Mal stared at him.

He’d told himself for ages that he’d been raised by his father, but he didn’t have tobehis father, but maybe he was. Maybe that cold had sunk so far in he didn’t know how to be warm again.

Except—that wasn’t true, was it? Because Elliott made him red-hot. Burned him so insistently, filling him with the heat of a hundred different emotions. Just like he was doing now.

“That’s bullshit,” Mal said, his tone blunt.

“Not as much as you’d like it to be,” Elliott said darkly.

Mal nearly stormed off. But he paused, just for a second, long enough to decide that he wasn’t going alone. He grabbed Elliott’s arm and dragged him right out of the showers, down the hall, back to an empty treatment room.

Elliott’s hair was dripping in his eyes as Mal pulled him in.

“What the fuck,” Mal spit out of him.

He pushed it back. “I just . . .you’re mad. I know you’re mad. And you won’t even admit it, which makes me even crazier. Don’t take it easy on me? Okay? Sure, we had sex—”

“Is that what you think?” Mal knew he should be incredulous, but this was just like Elliott fucking Jones. To decide what he was thinking. What he wasfeeling. “That we fucked so I’m gonna take it easy on you now? Not be pissed if you deserve it?”

Elliott nodded.

“Fuck that,” Mal said and kissed him, hard and insistent.

He’dbeenmad, because Elliott had kept pushing him to be, but the moment their lips touched, Elliott’s damp and cool, he wasn’t at all, not anymore.

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