Page 132 of Cold as Ice

If he wanted to help Elliott, he needed to work for it.

“You’re welcome,” Jane said, grinning.

“I’d ask how you got so smart, but you’ve always been so smart.”

Her mouth tilted up. “Yes and no. You were good for me, too, Mal. And you know what? I’m glad Elliott has you. And you have Elliott.”

“Me too. I . . .” Mal’s voice cracked embarrassingly, but there was only Jane here. No need to feel humiliated. “I just want to fix this, for him. Let him fix it himself.Something.”

“Well, you know what to do,” Jane said. She waved her hand to the door. “I got this. Go play white knight—or maybe in this case, we can call you the morally gray knight.”

Mal nodded and stood, pulling on his coat and tossing a few bucks down on the table to cover the tip.

He kind of hated the thought of being ‘morally gray’ and he couldn’t even think of what his father would think about it.

But then he considered how it would feel next year or the year after if he was playing for Toronto and Elliott was doing . . .well, what would Elliott even do without hockey? He was a born hockey player.

And,it wasn’t like Dr. Prosser’s behavior was all aboveboard either. Malknewthere was something going on, a hidden agenda he couldn’t quite discern, but was unbelievably sure existed.

Nothing else made sense.

Mal headed in the direction of Dr. Bricker’s office. It wasn’t normally his time to be in there, receiving students, but maybe he could persuade him to make another exception for him.

In his pocket, his phone buzzed, and he didn’t even have to look at the screen to know who it was. Elliott had just gotten out of his morning class and was no doubt asking if he’d heard anything. He’d told him he’d call, while he walked to his next one.

“Ell, I’mworkingon it, I swear,” Mal answered without glancing at the screen.

“Not Ell,” a deep voice said with amusement. “It’s Dr. Bricker.”

“Oh.Oh. I’m sorry. I just thought it was going to be—”

“Your boyfriend?” Dr. Bricker was definitely smiling now. Mal could hear it.

“Yeah,” Mal admitted.

“I’ve got good news for both of you. I brought your concerns and a copy of the test to the chair, Dr. Howard. She’s agreed that there’s something going on. Can you and Elliott come by this afternoon for an hour or two?”

Mal mentally sifted through both of their schedules. “Yes, I think so. An hour or two?”

“Dr. Howard’s going to administer another test. Oneshegrades.”

Oh shit.

It was not what Mal had expected to hear, but it would absolutely be a way for Elliott to prove, once and for all, that he’d been graded unfairly the first time around.

Would Elliott freak out? Absolutely. But Mal was sure that he knew the material. He’d been confident—but not cocky—going into the first test.

“I’ll let him know,” Mal said, switching directions. If he was quick, he might be able to cross the quad and catch Elliott before he ducked into his next class. Tell him the good news in person. Reassure him if he panicked.

“Three PM sharp,” Dr. Bricker said.

“We’ll be there and he’ll be ready to take whatever test you need to give him.”

“Good.” Dr. Bricker hesitated. “I’m glad you brought this to our attention, Mal. Dr. Howard’s very concerned.”

“So are we. Elliott, especially,” Mal added. “This could kill his whole future.”

“If he genuinely got mis-graded, we’ll fix it, I promise,” Dr. Bricker said.

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