Page 138 of Cold as Ice

“Hey, you got a minute?” Mal asked him.

“Sure. And I hear congratulations are in order,” Coach said, gesturing them in. They took the other couch as Coach paused the game.

“I . . .uh . . .” Mal hesitated, and Elliott realized he thought Coach was talking about their relationship—not his newly passing status in statistics.

“You must have heard pretty quickly from Dr. Howard,” Elliott said, shooting Mal a look.

“I think she emailed me right away, knowing how difficult of a situation this was for you,” Coach said. “I’m relieved. And you must be, too.”

“Definitely,” Elliott agreed. “But that’s not why we’re here.”

He could feel Mal shifting around next to him. Was he just trying to get comfortable or was he nervous? He hadn’tseemednervous when he’d kissed him in front of anyone who might’ve been watching, less than ten minutes ago.

Elliott nudged Mal with his knee, and Mal nudged back.

“You’ve got something else?” Coach asked.

“Zach told me something a few weeks ago, and I wasn’t sure if it was true,” Mal said, finally speaking up.

“About?”

“How Toronto’s interested in Elliott.”

Coach laughed. “Just about everyone’s interested in Elliott. But yes. I suppose it couldn’t stay under wraps forever. They’re very interested in reuniting the two of you. Obviously, Ivan’s part of your line’s success, but he’s already been drafted by Boston, and I can’t imagine what situation the Toronto GM would have to create to get the Bruins to let him go.”

“There’s . . .uh . . .something else that can’t stay under wraps, not much longer,” Mal said.

Coach raised an eyebrow.

“It’s partially your fault, you know. I’d imagine you thought asking Mal to tutor me might help us understand each other a little better,” Elliott said, suddenly and acutely aware that now that the moment of truth had finally arrived, he wasn’t as easy about this as he’d imagined. But it would be worth it. He looked over, met Mal’s gaze, and saw the same truth written there.

“I can’t deny that was a thought I had,” Coach said. He frowned. “What else?”

It was the moment of truth, right now. Elliott swallowed hard. “We understood each other even better than you might’ve hoped. We . . .uh . . .we fell in love.” He reached over and took Mal’s hand. His palm was sweaty, despite the chill in the air, but Elliott understood.

If anyone’d told him that at the beginning of the year that not only would Malcolm McCoy be capable of love and affection, but that he’d feel it for him, and rank that love and affection above anything else, Elliott wouldn’t have believed it.

But he was doing it. If that wasn’t true fucking love, what was it?

“You fell in love,” Coach repeated, a bewildered look on his face. “Wait. You mean this? You’re together? But you’re—”

“I know we haven’t always gotten along,” Mal said apologetically.

Coach laughed. “Son, that is an understatement. At the beginning of the year, you told me if I put Elliott on the same line as you that you’d transfer.”

“You said that?” Elliott wasn’t offended, but he was a little surprised. “But you’d never want to transfer. Think of all those partial credits you’d end up with!”

Mal rolled his eyes. Shot Elliott a look that promised some especially sexy retribution later. “I wasn’t really serious.”

“Serious enough to make the threat,” Elliott teased.

Coach cleared his throat. “Okay. Okay. I see it now. Well. Uh.”

“We didn’t want to hide it,” Elliott said.

“Not anymore,” Mal agreed.

“I can see that,” Coach said dryly. “I’m beginning to be surprised you were hiding it at all.”

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