Page 40 of Cold as Ice

“Heistutoring me, and we haven’t destroyed a building yet.”

“Did you finishAnna Karenina?” Ivan asked, changing the subject because clearly Ivan didn’t feel the same about the subject as Elliott did. The way he and Mal interacted was all Elliott could think about. All hewantedto think about.

“I’m still working my way through it. It’ll be a good contrast for this paper I’m working on,” Elliott said. “I’m also readingWuthering Heights.”

“That’s not Russian,” Ivan said, brows drawing together, face disgruntled.

“A plus observation,” Elliott teased.

Ivan elbowed him again.

“I’m working on a thesis they both take different angles to the romance, but ultimately they show it as doomed. We could even say they’re warnings,” Elliott said.

“I bet you’d agree,” Ivan said. “Don’t you think romance is shit?”

“Hey, just because I don’t bother to stick to one guy—”

One of Ivan’s eyebrows skated upwards. “One guy.”

“Okay, just because I don’t stick toany number of guysdoesn’t mean I think love is automatically shit. I just . . .why should I bother with it right now? I’m having too much fun.”

“Love can be fun, too,” Ivan replied dryly.

“Yeah, you tell yourself that in twenty years when Martina is ruling youanda whole other country beneath her boot.”

“That could be fun, actually,” Ivan said thoughtfully.

Of course he’d think that.

“Anyway, I think it’s a good subject and I’m impartial about it. It’s not that I believe love is bullshit. Just . . .never needed itnotto be, before.” Elliott shrugged.

“Sure,” Ivan said.

Finally, it was their turn at the register, and for a second, as Ivan ordered a triple shot latte, with an obscene number of flavors, Elliott couldn’t place the guy taking his order, gaze skimming right around Ivan.

Then he remembered.

Less than a week ago, he’d flirted with the guy, given him his number, and promptly not texted him back when he’d reached out a few days ago.

Whoops.

He’dmeantto. But then Mal . . .

Well.

Way back last year, he’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t let Malcolm McCoy and his complete disinterest in sharing his bed hamper his ability to share anyone else’s and he wasn’t about to start now.

Ivan paid, stepped to the side, and Elliott turned on his widest, highest watt grin.

“Hey,” Elliott said.

“Hey,” the guy said. His nametag read Austin. Which Elliott was forty-seven percent sure he’d remembered. The guy’s name had been saved in his phone as “cute coffee guy.”

“Imagine seeing you here, again. I must have the best luck in the world.”

“Kinda what I thought,” Austin said. He didn’t need to add,but then you didn’t text me back.

“Well, seeing you right here, just reminded me I met this really cute guy at Koffee Klatch a few days ago, and I meant to text him back, but I got busy. You know, all that hockey I’ve been playing.” Elliott leaned against the counter and barely refrained from fluttering his eyelashes at the guy.

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