Page 122 of Cold as Ice

“Hey, if you could fall in love, and withMalcolmto boot, then there’s hope even for Ramsey,” Ivan pointed out.

Chapter 16

Malcolm wasn’t nervous. Notexactly.

There wasn’t anything to get nervous about. His father was his father—there was no point in hoping he’d be different, because if anything Anthony McCoy was as steady as they came—but what Mal didn’t know was how he’d react to Elliott.

Specifically, how his father would react to Elliott as his boyfriend.

He’d never had a boyfriend before, so he’d never had to do this.

And while his father had been understanding in that completely unemotional way of his when Mal had told him the truth about his sexuality, he still didn’t know what would happen when Anthony McCoy came face-to-face with the obvious evidence that Mal wasn’t ever going to fit into the mold he’d designed for his only son.

First, he hadn’t gone into the military.

Second, he wanted to play hockey.

Third, he was gay.

Mal finished dressing, pulling on a plaid shirt and buttoning it up.

“You’re quiet,” Elliott said, coming to a stop in front of him. He was already dressed—in a nice pair of jeans and a dark green button-up. He looked as nervous as Mal was trying not to feel.

“Yeah. Good game, though.” It had been. They’d won four to two, the third line scoring and then Ivan flicking a goal in. Elliott had added a pair of his own, both with assists from Mal.

Their numbers would look even better after this, and no doubt the scouts were already sending emails about how potentially valuable the pair of them could be, if they ended up on the same team.

He should be happier about this; hewashappy about this. But he still felt vaguely worried and more nauseous than he really wanted to admit to.

“You still seem distracted,” Elliott said. He lowered his voice. “Are you worried about your dad? We don’t have to tell him.”

Mal shot him a look. “Of course I’m going to tell him. I don’t want to keep you a secret—any more than we have to. And it’s not like he comes around all that often. This is the time to do it.”

Elliott sighed. “Do youalwaysdo what you’re supposed to do, Mal?”

“What do you think?” Mal tried not to snap, but his question came out harsher than he’d intended. “I’m sorry. I—I know we don’thaveto do it, but I want to. I’m just . . .”

Elliott didn’t need him to finish his sentence. “I get it. It’s a lot. You’ve never done this before. Me either.”

“Not once? You’ve never met a parent before?”

“Oh, loads of times,” Elliott said, “but it was never serious. Not like . . .he’s the guy I love, that I want to spend all my time with, that I’m going to make a future with.”

Something about what Elliott said—and how he said it—unwound some of those nerves inside Mal. “You’re right. You’re really right. We’re doing this.”

“Yeah,” Elliott agreed, smiling. “And maybe he’s an ass about it. Will that suck? Absolutely. But that doesn’t change anything. I’m with you, every step of the way. This isn’t just you telling him, Mal, it’sustelling him.”

Mal hadn’t thought of it that way, and he was surprised at how reassuring that felt. It wasn’tonlyhim, when it felt like his whole life, it had only been him and his dad. Only him to please and to placate and to ensure he was proud.

But not anymore.

He’d never put all of that on Elliott, but to know he’d share it, gladly?

“That . . .that means a lot,” Mal said.

“Come on, we’re meeting him at Jimmy’s, right?” Elliott asked.

“Yeah.” Mal grabbed his bag and followed Elliott out the door.

---