Page 55 of On Thin Ice

Fucker.

“So we’re just going to ignore whatever your reaction was when Chet called me a fairy?”

As far as slurs went, it wasn’t a great one, but not terrible, either. Pretty basic and uncreative, honestly, but that was Chet for you. I’d been called infinitely worse.

“Listen, can we not do this? I’m fine now.” His jaw tightened.

“Yeah, because I let you fuck it out of your system. And as much as I love a good orgasm, that’s not healthy.”

“Neither is needing to be all up in everyone’s business.”

I huffed out a disbelieving laugh.This guy.He’d rather pick a fight and insult me than open up to me. He really was the most closed-off motherfucker I’d ever met.

“You couldn’t breathe, E, and you didn’t say a single word to me all the way home.”

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest, his lips pressing into a thin, obstinate line. His shoulders hunched forward defensively, and a flash of childish petulance darkened his eyes as he tilted his chin slightly upward in defiance. “Is that what this is about? You wanted to chat, and I wasn’t in the mood?”

Goddamn it.

I wanted to snap at him. To tell him he didn’t get to shut down like that, fuck me into oblivion, and then come at me sideways when I asked a basic question. But, I reminded myself, he wasn’t being needlessly cruel. He was scared, fighting demons I couldn’t even guess at.

Yeah, because he won’t talk to you, my subconscious unhelpfully injected.

I shook my head against the intrusive thought. I didn’t need any reminders—even from my own mind—about how hard Ethan worked to keep me out.

Asking him to share with me wasn’t really getting me anywhere, but unfortunately for Ethan, therewassomething I knew about him that could help me break past his defenses.

Touch.

Whether he’d admit it or not, that manneededmy hands on him. Craved it like his next damn breath. I hated that I had to resort to this sort of manipulation, but not as much as I hated him retreating behind his walls.

I closed the gap between us and reached out, gently wrapping my hand around his wrist. “I’m not trying to be all up in your business, Ethan. I’m trying to be in yourlife.”

His eyes flicked to mine in surprise, and he opened his mouth, likely to tell me he didn’t want me there, either, but I raised my hand, cutting him off.

“I know what we’re doing doesn’t mean anything, but you’re my teammate, and hopefully something like a friend, and I care about your well-being.” I softened my grip, letting my thumb brush a soft path on the inside of his wrist. His pulse jumped beneath my touch, and his brow furrowed.

My voice softened. “You don’t owe me an explanation.” Though god knew I wanted one more than anything. “But I need you to know that when shit like that happens, you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

He didn’t speak, but something in his posture shifted. Just barely—a loosening of his jaw, a relaxation of his spine.

That slight relaxation was all the invitation I needed. “Whatever made that word hit you like a freight train, that’s your private business. I get that. But don’t pretend like it didn’t mess with you, either. I was there, E. I saw you. You were two seconds away from losing your shit completely.”

That earned me a sharp inhale, like he’d been punched in the gut. He glanced down at where my hand was wrapped loosely around his wrist, and I loosened my grip, letting my hand slide away.

His eyes bounced up to meet mine for a few long seconds. He blew out a breath with a slow shake of his head, braced his palms on the counter’s edge, his fingers curling over the lip like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

“It’s just old shit from when I was a kid. Doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But it does,” I said gently. “It’s clearly a trigger.”

“Not really. Just baggage. High school stuff. You know what rural towns are like, how words like that are tossed around to humiliate boys. You hear it enough times, it sticks.”

I nodded slowly. There was truth in what he said about rural towns—I’d seen it firsthand growing up in Ohio, even with Cleveland nearby. But I’d heard some real horror stories while at Thackeray from kids who’d grown up nearby, so I could easily imagine the shit Ethan must have heard.

“So it’s about more than Chet?” I clarified.

He huffed out a quiet, cynical-sounding laugh. “It’s not about that asshole at all, actually.”

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