Page 127 of Cold as Ice

“Well,yeah.”

“Uh . . .me too,” Mal murmured, wrapping an arm around Elliott’s waist and pulling him close. It was late on a Friday and there were pockets of students around, but in the darkness, they were just two anonymous guys in love. He pressed a hard kiss to Elliott’s mouth and then softened it when Elliott grabbed him and wouldn’t let him go.

“You’re welcome,” Elliott said when Mal finally pulled away.

“Thank you.” It was hard saying it, but Elliott deserved him tackling the tough shit.

“Yeah, I know.” Elliott’s touch was soft, tender as he stroked his back. “It must have sucked, growing up with him.”

“Yes and no.” Mal sighed. “He wasn’t alwaysthisintense. He just . . .I know he has hopes for me to do things.”

“Like not play hockey anymore?” Elliott asked pointedly.

“Ell . . .”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Elliott added. “I just . . .I don’t get it. You’regood,Mal. And if you really want to give it up andjoin the front office, fine. I’ll support you every step of the way. But I want to know that it’s whatyouwant.”

“I . . .” Mal cleared his throat. He didn’t know. Hedidn’t know. And the idea of saying that out loud went so radically against everything he’d been raised to be he didn’t know how to do it.

“It’s okay,” Elliott said. “You don’t have to decide—or evenknow—right now. You’ve got all kinds of time.”

Mal hadn’t considered that, and to his surprise, that was actually a very reassuring thought. Hedidn’tneed to know now.

“I bet that’s not something you were told very often,” Elliott continued dryly.

“No,” Mal agreed. “But I like it. I really like it.”

He’d thought forever that he had to have all the answers. That if he didn’t—well, he’dneedto find them, ASAP. It was a breath of fresh air to think he could take his time.

Kind of like Elliott.

They approached the apartment, Elliott reaching down and taking his hand, squeezing it.

“I got something you’re gonnareallylike even more,” Elliott said. “Tell me Jane isn’t going to be home.”

“I’m sure she’s at rehearsal still,” Mal said, as he unlocked the door.

Sure enough, the apartment was dark and quiet, and it was too easy to let Elliott keep leading him in his bedroom.

Mal was sure Elliott, with his desk piled with books and papers and overflowing hamper and pictures tacked up all over his walls, would no doubt find his extreme neatness somewhat austere.

But Elliott didn’t even look around the room. He was only looking at Mal.

Elliott nudged him back towards the bed.

Mal, now that he had some experience under his belt, didn’t always let Elliott take control in the bedroom.

But today, he went easily, the backs of his knees hitting the bed.

“God, just look at you,” Elliott said in a hushed voice. He leaned in and Mal turned his face up, hoping for a kiss, but Elliott only dropped his backpack to the floor, and to Mal’s surprise, went rummaging inside it.

“I thought we might need this tonight,” Elliott mumbled as he found what he was looking for, “and I was right.” He pulled out one of the toys Mal had seen in his bedside drawer, the one that Elliott told him vibrated.

Mal swallowed hard. “You had that in your bag while we were at dinner with myfather?”

Elliott just laughed. “Hell yes, that’s exactly why I had it. I knew you were gonna be all tense and cold after we saw him. And I’d want to melt you right back into my Mal.”

“I’m still your Mal,” he protested weakly, even though he knew exactly what Elliott was talking about. Every time he saw his dad, he could feel that tenseness creeping in along his neck, until the muscles felt nearly locked with how rigidly he was holding himself.

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