Page 30 of One-Time Shot

Brady glanced toward Malcolm and did a double take. “That’s my physics TA. Maloney, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he wearing skates? Whoa. That’s trippy. I didn’t know you were friends with him. He’s kind of—” Brady’s eyes slid to mine and went wide. He clamped his mouth shut, blinking then sputtering. “He’s a good guy. Intense, but…nice.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” I replied. “I’m helping him run speed tests. If you see him around, be cool.”

“Yeah, yeah. Um…I’m gonna grab my stuff. Meet you outside, Ty.”

Ty grunted in acknowledgment, slipped his phone into his pocket, and scanned the deserted rink. He went comically still when he spotted Malcolm. “Hey, I remember that guy. He’s your stalker from the Depot.”

“He’s not a stalker, asshole. He asked for help, and I?—”

“Whoa!” Ty held up his hands. “Relax. I didn’t say anything, man.”

“Good. Don’t.”

“I won’t,” he shot back.

“Good.”

“Great.”

I rolled my eyes. “I gotta go. I have class tonight and—why are you looking at me like that?”

“You like him.”

“We established that. His project is kind of interesting and?—”

“Youlikehim,” Ty repeated.

“Are you thirteen or something?”

Ty didn’t take the bait, and he knew me too well to be intimidated by an angry glare. “No wonder Tara was pissed. She didn’t know she had competition.”

“Fuck off. It’s not like that,” I growled.

“Hey, I’m on your side. You do you. Just be careful. Something tells me he’s not like us.”

To be honest, that was fair. I glanced at Malcolm, shimmying one blade on the ice while hanging on to the boards. A smile tugged at my mouth without my permission. I couldn’t figure out what it was about this guy that got to me, but I wouldn’t deny that I liked him…a lot.

Ty wasn’t the type to judge, anyway. Nope, my buddy was an unrepentant hedonist. “Work hard, play harder” was his motto. I suspected we weren’t the only queer guys on the team, but I couldn’t confirm that and it didn’t matter. It wasn’t my business. We both knew that not everyone else was as open-minded.

I had my reasons for staying in the closet, same as Ty. I wanted to go pro, and I didn’t want my sexuality to be part of the conversation.

Malcolm wouldn’t understand. He was an out and proud scientist, a teacher, and an intellectual. I was just a jock with a pie-in-the-sky dream. Flirty text messages and stolen looks over hockey notes was all I’d get from him.

It kinda sucked, but it would have to be enough.

CHAPTER9

MALCOLM

Eighty-five miles per hour.

Ninety miles per hour.

Eighty-six, ninety-two.