Page 134 of Breaking the Ice

Zach shot him a look.

“Just saying. Mal’s tense.”

“I noticed.” Zach wasn’t blind.

“You think Coach’s noticed?”

“I made sure of it.”

“What aboutyourtenseness?” Ramsey teased. “You two still circling each other?”

Zach supposed he shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed that Ramsey had decided between the first and second period was a great time to bring up Zach’s sex life.

“Are you serious?” Zach retorted.

But Ramsey just shrugged innocently, like his question was no big deal.

“Knowing you, I’d imagine you knew what happened before we even did,” Zach muttered.

“Oh, I assumed,” Ramsey said with wide eyes. “But thanks for confirming.”

“You’re a fucking menace,” Zach said without heat.

Ramsey grinned then, like nothing made him happier than hearing that. “Yeah, probably.”

“When are you gonna chess-master yourself?”

“Never, man,never,” Ramsey said.

And as Zach walked away, he was pretty sure Ramsey meant that—believed it completely, in fact—but that was the funny thing about life, and even more about love.

It liked to throw curveballs.

Gavin didn’t say anything about the power play until they were nearly through the second. The third line had actually managed to miraculously shoot something into the net, and they were now up three goals.

But then one of their players high-sticked Ivan, and with the first line already out there, maybe halfway through their shift, it was the perfect opportunity to put a set of guys who had mostly fresh legs.

Malcolm obviously wouldn’t be, but Zach had seen him work a four or five minute shift before. He could handle it.

Gavin looked over at Zach. Then at the guys who were milling around the bench, waiting to hear what he wanted.

“McCoy, get your guys out there,” Gavin barked.

Elliott was still Elliott, so Zach half-expected him to make some kind of token protest but instead of arguing, he only lifted himself back over the wall and shot his boyfriend a bright, proud smile, tapping him on the helmet. “Go get ’em, baby,” he said. “Score one for me, huh?”

Mal blushed. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, but he looked pleased. Glowing with it, in fact.

“Damn it,” Gavin said less than ten seconds later, when Ethan won the faceoff, slid the puck to Mal, and he just shot it right in with a flick of the wrist, before the goalie could even dream about blocking it.

Elliott was yelling—something about what he was going to do to Mal later, and Ivan elbowed him, hard. “Shut up,” Ivan said, but Zach didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling too. “Nobody wants to know what you two get up to.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Brody said.

“Like you’re so innocent,” Ivan grumbled. “I saw you and Dean at Gamma Sigma the other night, practically humping against the side of the house.”

Brody blushed. “That was . . .we thought we were being subtle.”

Ivan rolled his eyes. “You two have never, ever, in your entire fucking lives, been subtle.”