Page 103 of On Thin Ice

I twisted around to see Ethan already halfway across the room, his jaw clenched, his eyes locked on Chet like a sniper zeroing in on a target.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Chet snorted. “Relax, man. Everyone knows you two are justbros.” He tossed the word like bait, his face stretched in a sneer. “No judgment. Though I gotta say, it’s brave of you to play house with a guy who uses your living room for naked photo shoots.” His eyes scanned Ethan from head to toe, then back again. “Though maybe you get off on that shit.”

Chet barely had time to react before Ethan lunged, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him into the wall so hard that a couple of guys jumped. Framed photos—of the team, of inspirational quotes— rattled with the force of the hit, drawing every eye our way.

Conversations died. Equipment hit the floor. Even the ever-present buzz of the fluorescent lines seemed to quiet.

“Don’t you dare talk about Bell like that,” Ethan snarled, pinning Chet in place with a forearm to the chest. “Don’t you dare make jokes about something you don’t fucking understand.”

Chet let out a sharp breath—almost a laugh—but it sounded shaky. His lips parted, and for a second, his expression twisted, not into fear but something heavier. His pupils dilated. His chest rose faster beneath Ethan’s arm. And then his tongue darted out and licked a path across his bottom lip.

Ethan’s eyes dropped for the briefest second to where Chet’s towel had slipped to show off the sharp line of his hip and a glimpse of trimmed, coarse, dark hair.

All at once, I understood with startling clarity what had drawn Ethan’s attention.

Chet’s throat bobbed with a swallow. His lips curved, cocky and bitter all at once. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get anything out, Coach Mack barked, “Harrison!”

Chet took advantage of the moment, shoving Ethan’s arm aside and stepping around him, but not before throwing one whispered shot over his shoulder. “Faggots.”

Ethan lunged again, fury twisting his face, but I dropped my skate and quickly grabbed him from behind. My bare chest was pressed flush against his damp back, my arms locked tight around his middle, a palm splayed flat across his abs, the other crossing over his chest and gripping his shoulder like a vice.

He was breathing hard, his chest heaving, his fists clenched at his sides. I could feel a tremor roll through him, the tension in his body coiled tight like a spring.

“Don’t,” I whispered, my mouth brushing against his ear. “He’s not worth it.”

Ethan shuddered at the feel of my breath ghosting over his skin.

That was when I realized how my hold on him must have looked to everyone watching.

I released him quickly and stepped away, my panicked gaze sweeping over the room. A few guys were staring, some looked away the second I met their eyes. Miller stood frozen near his stall, his mouth parted slightly. He gave me a small smile, a look that said he understood. Shit. I’d have to talk to him later. Right now, I had to do major damage control.

Coach’s voice rang out again, louder this time. “Harrison! Doyle! In my office. Now.”

For one long second, Ethan didn’t move, then I watched as his brain seemed to come back online and his feet moved forward. “Fuck!” he bellowed, punching the wall on his way into Coach’s office.

He never once looked back.

CHAPTER25

BELL

My fingers tingled from where they’d clutched Ethan’s skin, the imprint of his body lingering like a ghost against mine.

Everyone went back to what they were doing, like they didn’t want to poke the hornet’s nest that was still buzzing in the air. And while they may not have said a word about what they’d just witnessed, I could feel their eyes on me. Watching. Waiting to see what I did next.

If I’d acknowledge what had just gone down.

I wanted to, but I didn’t know how.

I glanced down at the skate in my hand I didn’t remember picking up, remembering that I’d been headed to the equipment room before Chet had run his mouth.

The thought of having a conversation with Toby about blade edges right now seemed impossible. My hands were still shaking, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Fuck the skate. I could deal with it tomorrow.

I tossed it into my stall and yanked my hockey pants off, grabbing my towel and shower kit. I needed to get clean, get dressed, and get the hell out of here before anyone started asking questions I couldn’t answer.

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