Page 14 of Cold as Ice

“This is how this is going to go,” Mal said in an annoyingly officious tone.

But Elliott had behaved in Coach’s office and while hewasgrateful Mal had agreed, he wasn’t about to let Mal lecture him until he died from boredom.

“Did that hurt?” Elliott interrupted.

Mal frowned. “Didwhathurt? That massive asshole shoving me into the boards in the last game? You checked me out earlier, didn’t you? I’d have thought you’d have seen the bruise.”

So he’d caught that. Well, Elliott had never pretended that Malcolm wasn’t delicious, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Noticed that, did you—”

“Do not ask me if I liked it,” Mal said between clenched teeth.

“Must’ve loved it, then,” Elliott teased.

Mal rolled his eyes.

“I meant, did it hurt admitting that the team’s better off with me on it?”

Mal froze. “No,” he said stiffly, finally. “It’s just the truth. You know how good you are. You don’t need me to say it. What youdoneed is for me to push you to not just skate by on your natural skill. Skill improves whenyouimprove it. Do you want to be just good? Or do you want to begreat?”

“I want you to stop fucking lecturing me,” Elliott muttered.

But hedidwant to be great, sure. Didn’t everyone?

What he didn’t know was if Mal’s tactics were the magic key forhimbeing great.

“Well, that’s never going to stop happening now,” Mal said, and was that asmile?

Of course, only Malcolm would smile at the thought of lecturing Elliott until he was blue in the face.

“I’m sure it won’t.”

“Now,” Mal repeated, “this is how this is going to go. I’ll set the times. You won’t just be on time, you will beearly.”

“Sounds like a great time,” Elliott retorted sarcastically.

“We want to make it through this unscathed? This is how we’re gonna do it,” Mal said. “This is how wehaveto do it.”

“Fine.”

“And we’re gonna meet three times a week.” Malcolm paused. “Starting tomorrow. The library. Eight PM. I’ll reserve a private room.”

Elliott wanted to argue, because Thursday night was poker night at the Gamma Sigma house and he had a standing invite, but he had a feeling that if he did, Malcolm would freak out. Claim he cared more about parties than his grades. Cared more about having fun than playing hockey.

It had never bothered him before that Malcolm might feel that way, but Elliott realized that he didn’twantMal to think any of those lies were actually true.

So he just nodded. “Sure, I can do that.”

Mal squinted at him. “No bitching? Complaining? Whining?”

“I don’t do those things,” Elliott protested, wincing inside.

No wonder Mal hadn’t wanted to hook up with him, ever, if this was what he felt about Elliott. A bitchy, whiny kid who couldn’t stop complaining.

If he’d needed to get his ego in line enough to get him to accept Mal’s help, that would probably do it.

Mal shot him a look. “Sure you don’t,” he retorted.

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