Page 142 of Cold as Ice

Mal understood, anyway.

He pulled open the door to Darcelle’s, set down the street from frat row, and took in the surprisingly light interior.

Ramsey had dragged him here a few times, for a show or a drink, over the years, but he’d never been here during the day, with the heavy candy pink velvet drapes open and the weak sunlight streaming in. The stage was still lit with the strobing stage lights in a rainbow of colors, the gold fringed trim on the black T-shaped stage gleaming.

Their table was obvious, not only because half a dozen guys were sitting there, already, but because it was the biggest one in the small space.

Mal’s hand tightened in Elliott’s as they approached the table.

“Hey, guys,” Ivan said, and a few of their other teammates chimed in.

“Hey, what’s this?” Nate Greene asked, gesturing to their intertwined hands. “You slummin’ it, Jones?”

Mal hadn’t known how this would play out. He had faith that ultimately it would be fine, but he hadn’t been exactly sure how they’d get there.

He didn’t expect Elliott to pull himself up to his full height, shoot Mal a look full of love and affection and say, proudly, without a single tremor of anxiety, “Actually, the opposite. Turns out Mal is the greatest guy.” He grinned. “Joke’s on me, guys, because he didn’t just become my tutor or my friend, but I fell head over heels for him.”

Mal was never going to be one for PDA. He’d spent too many years avoiding it. Avoiding anyone’s touch, really. Now in private, he felt like a glutton, getting as much of Elliott as he could.

But today was an exception.

What else was Malcolm supposed to do after his man had said all that but pull Elliott to him? Kiss him with every bit of the love surging through him?

“Wow,” Mal thought he heard someone say. “I guess they really are fucking now.”

Someone else chimed in that apparently Mal wasn’t a robot after all—was it Finn? Mal discovered he didn’t even care.

He sure felt flesh and blood enough with Elliott in his arms.

Like he’d never been warmer.

There was a fierce catcall behind him, and it was what finally got his attention enough to lift his mouth from Elliott’s. Elliott’s green eyes were hot and dreamy, filled with affection.

Filled with lust.

Mal wanted to lose himself in them again.

But he couldn’t. Not here.

Later,he promised himself.

“Look at you two,” that light, smooth voice cooed, and Mal glanced over Elliott’s shoulder to see one of the drag queens, hand on her black tulle tutu, hip popped, and with a delighted expression on her face. Her bright pink bob wig matched her lips. “Aw, and they blush too! I can barely make my man blush like that anymore.”

“That’s ’cause your man’s too used to your saucy ways,” an older queen said, sliding in and patting Mal on the shoulder. “Don’t you mind Sassy over here. She dropped in from bum-fuck Nebraska to do an extra show or two while her man’s on the road, and she always gets extra sassy when she’s missing him.”

“Sassy Solo at your service,” she said, shooting the pair of them another flirtatious smile. “And you two big hunks are?”

Elliott recovered his voice first. “I’m Elliott. This is Mal.”

“Well, you make sure you stick around to see the show. Then you might see how sassy Ireallyget,” she teased, flipping her hair and sauntering off with a graceful sway.

“This is awesome,” Elliott said excitedly, sliding into a seat next to Ivan. Mal sat down next to him. “I haven’t been to a show here in ages.”

“What?” Mal squawked, even though he knew Elliott had a fake ID in his wallet. Knew and pretended it wasn’t there, because if he thought about it too hard, he’d probably slip back into old habits. Into old, cold, unforgiving habits. And he didn’t want to be that man anymore.

Upright, honorable, loyal, yes.

But the rest, no.

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