Page 110 of On Thin Ice

“You didn’t.”

He snorted. “You can barely walk.”

He wasn’t wrong. Hehadhurt me, but I’d asked him too. Probably wouldn’t be doing that again anytime soon, but it was what he needed last night, and I’d never deny this man anything that he needed.

Still, I hated that he felt guilty for it.

I laughed to try and play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “Yeah, because I got my ass kicked on the ice and then got the most thorough dicking down of my life last night. It’s not like I haven’t done the same to you before.”

Something in his expression shifted at that—remembering, perhaps, all the mornings he’d been the one moving carefully, wearing my marks beneath his clothes. The corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile, before it disappeared.

“You needed it,” I said, brushing my thumb over his knuckles. “We both did.”

He pulled his hand away with a sharp intake of breath, and I felt him retreating—not just physically, but emotionally, too. The warmth in his eyes cooled as he raised his walls back up, brick by invisible brick.

“Ethan,” I said, my voice tight with sudden fear. I set my coffee down with aclunkagainst the table. “Talk to me. Please. Let me in.”

He took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling with it, and turned to face me fully for the first time since I came out here. “I got suspended,” he said flatly. “Three games.”

“What?” I straightened. “That’s bullshit! Chet’s the one who should be benched for the homophobic shit he keeps spouting. He literally called us fags. Everyone heard him.”

Ethan’s mouth twisted. “Maybe so, but I’m the one who physically attacked him.” He flexed his hands, staring at his fingers like he could still feel them wrapped around Chet’s throat.

I swallowed hard, guilt churning in my stomach. “I’m sorry for how I stopped you from going after him again. For … uh, wrapping myself around you like that. In front of everyone.” I forced myself to meet his eyes.

Ethan swallowed, and something unreadable flickered across his face.

My heart pounded, hope rising even as I tried to tamp it down. Part of me was praying he’d say that it was okay, that he figured it was time to come clean with our teammates.

He didn’t.

He cleared his throat and said instead, “I talked to my agent last night on the drive home. He thinks there’s a way to spin this.”

“Spin it?” What the hell was he talking about? How did you convince people they didn’t see what they very clearly saw?

“Yeah. We can play it off like we’re just really good friends who aren’t afraid to show affection for one another. Non-toxic bros who are breaking stereotypes or whatever. That’s kind of your shtick already, so it fits the narrative.” He spoke faster now, like he’d rehearsed this a thousand times and just needed to get it out. “I … uh … he also suggested I call Lacey.”

I stared at him, my lungs constricting. “Lacey, as in the woman you pretended to date for years?”

“Yeah,” he said, flopping back against the couch cushions and looking up at the ceiling for a moment before his eyes found mine again. “Her and Caroline broke up last month, so the timing works.”

I shot to my feet, crossing the room. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It’s only temporary,” Ethan said quickly. “Just until this whole thing blows over.” His voice was placating, the tone you’d use on a spooked animal. Or worse, a child.

“This whole thing?” I repeated, my voice turning frantic as I paced across the room. “You mean us? You mean me?”

“No, Bell, not you. Never you.” He reached for me as I strode past, but didn’t stand. He let his hand fall back down and curled it into a fist on his thigh. “I’m talking about the rumors, the speculation.”

I turned toward the window, seeing the man who lived across the street wave at me from his driveway, oblivious to the storm raging inside his neighbor’s house. I yanked the curtains closed with enough force that the rod rattled and turned back to Ethan, my arms crossed over my chest.

“So let me get this straight. After everything that happened yesterday—after last night—you’re going to pretend to date your beard to convince our teammates you’re straight?”

“It’s not like that.” He stood now, his face flushed with frustration or shame, I wasn’t sure. The muscle in his jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth, and a vein stood out on his forehead.

“Then what’s it like, Ethan? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you fucked me to within an inch of my life last night knowing you were going to do this to me in the morning.”

I took two steps toward him, then stopped, afraid of what I might do if I got any closer. Afraid I’d drop to my knees and beg. Cry and plead. Pull out his cock and try to convince him that he needed me, if not with words, then with sex.

---