Page 57 of Cold as Ice

He still felt the way he’d pressed up against Elliott in the tight booth. How Elliott hadn’t tilted himself away, but had leaned in closer.

Come even closer still.

“You’re awfully fidgety today,” Elliott said, shooting him a knowing look.

They’d finished their statistics tutoring, and after Mal had nearly told him that he had to go. Where? He hadn’t had anywhere else to be. But somewhere else had to be better than sitting here and undergoing this minute-by-minute torture.

Maybe he’d thought Elliott was attractive before now. That he could be attracted to him.

Now, it felt like his whole body was attuned to his, vibrating on the same goddamn frequency, and he didn’t know how to get it to stop.

Yes, you do.

“I’m . . .” Mal didn’t know how to explain without confessing everything. “I’m just . . .uh . . .”

Elliott raised an eyebrow, his stare keen. Mal felt like it saweverything. Saw through all his walls. Saw deep down inside where he was a fucking mess.

Deep down inside where he wanted to throw a lifetime of caution to the wind, to ignore everything that had happened in high school, every piece of advice his father had ever given him.

But you won’t.

“Just tired,” Mal finally finished. “It was a long day. And I . . .uh . . .I should go. Get . . .uh . . .a good night’s sleep.”

He was so tired of being indecisive. So tired of fighting this. If temptation wasn’t currently sitting in front of him, he might be able to focus.

“If you want to, sure,” Elliott said, without judgment. But those eyes were still staring at him, like they could interpret every pause, every hesitation. Every stumbled, increasingly inane excuse.

“I . . .yes,” Mal said, making himself stick firmly to the last answer. “Yes.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Elliott said.

Mal was sure he was going to escape without Elliott’s presence pressing itself more indelibly into him, but then he stood just as Mal finished packing up his workbook, and then they were hugging again.

And this time, Mal hugged him back.

Elliott was only an inch or two shorter than him, though he was slighter, and they fit together even better than in those dreams he was still pretending he wasn’t having.

Elliott must’ve agreed, too, because he swayed even closer until they were pressed together and Mal’s fingers were cramping from the effort it was taking not to dig in to Elliott’s muscles and justtake.

He was shaking when he pulled away. When he said goodbye.

When he turned away and didn’t let himself look back.

It was drizzling and cold outside, but Mal didn’t pull his hood up. Instead, hoped the damp chill might extinguish the heat boiling inside him, but it didn’t work.

He wanted, with a fierceness he wasn’t familiar with and didn’t know how to fight, to turn back and tell Elliott,let’s do this. I know you want me, and I . . .I want you too.

He’d only said that to one other person in his whole life, and it had been an unmitigated disaster. Not through any fault of Mal’s, but the ache of it lingered.

Ultimately that wasn’t what stopped him though.

It was who had helped bandage over that ache.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his father.

They didn’t talk often. Anthony McCoy wasn’t one for idle chatter or small talk.

Still, he answered on the third ring.

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