Page 18 of Cold as Ice

“He’s failing statistics, Jane. He needs help. Alotof help.”

She waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, I just bet he does.”

“That’s enough about Elliott. You’re so caffeinated you’re becoming delusional. No more coffee for you today,” he said, with mock sternness as he grabbed the bill off the table, ignoring how Jane made a face at his highhandedness.

She laughed. “I’m not sureI’mthe delusional one.”

“We’ll see tonight.” Though Malcolm already knew he wasn’t laboring under any illusions that this would be painful and ugly and if it ended without them wanting to strangle each other, it would be a miracle.

“We sure will,” she said knowingly. She put an arm around his much bigger frame as they walked out of Jimmy’s. “I can’t wait to hear about it.”

Outside the private room Mal had reserved, Elliott took a deep breath and then another.

He’d spent the whole day—since he’d gotten Mal’s text with the room number—telling himself that he wouldn’t poke or prod him. That he’d be appreciative and grateful that Mal was willing to do this.

He’d even focus—andnoton the way Mal’s curls fell over his forehead, or the dark intensity of those gorgeous blue eyes, or his broad shoulders and meaty biceps.

Pushing open the sliding door, Elliott met those blue eyes as they eyed him, top to bottom. Normally, Elliott might interpret that thorough examination as interest.

But he knew better.

Mal was cold as ice.

He glanced down at his watch. Elliott didn’t need to look at his to understand the gesture.

“So, youarecapable of being early,” Malcolm said.

He seemed even colder than normal today.

I wanna be burned by all that ice.

Elliott pushed the thought away. He wasn’t thinking about sex. He definitely wasn’t thinking about sex in conjunction with Mal. He wasfocusing.

“Shocking, isn’t it?” Elliott said, sitting down opposite Mal. He pulled his laptop out of his bag, and then his statistics book.

“You don’t need either of those things,” Mal said firmly. “We’re starting more basic today.”

“More basic? I don’t need more basic. I need to pass this freaking test.”

“And you will. But statistics builds on basic principles and if you don’t get the basic principles, you’ll never be able to understand anything more advanced.” He glanced down at a paper in front of him. “If Dr. Prosser is following the same syllabus she was two years ago, then this test is about standard deviation.”

Elliott nodded. “Sounds about right.”

“Alright, we’re going to start with the basic concepts and I’ll work through up to that point. The idea’s by that point, with the right,focusedpreparation, it shouldn’t be an issue to understand standard deviation.”

Elliott stared at Mal.

He should’ve guessed that Malcolm wouldn’t approach this problem like anyone else. Anyone else might’ve just pulled up the textbook exercises on standard deviation and pounded them into Elliott’s brain until he sort of understood. Until he got the concept well enough to pass the test.

But Mal wanted to actuallyteachhim.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’d be a good teacher?”

Mal looked surprised. “No.”

“You didn’t have to go to all this work—”

“Yes, that’s me. MalcolmWorkaholicMcCoy,” Mal interrupted. “We’ve long established I like to do things by the book. That I’m too serious. That I’m too committed. I get it, Elliott. Trust me.”

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