11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

“I didn’t hear you come in last night.” Jane leaned forward and pouted into the mirror she’d hung right next to the door, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. Bright red lips, dark smoky eyes, all appropriate considering her costume as the devil.

“I was out late, studying,” Mal said, willing himself not to flush.

But his friend knew him better than that.

“You? Malcolm McCoy was out late studying? With who?” She paused. “Not Elliott. Oh my God, it was Elliott. You’re going all red!”

“I am not,” Mal said, even though the sliver of himself he could see in the mirror proved him a liar.

Jane whirled around. “You did it, didn’t you?”

It had been a few days now since it had actually happened, and Mal had intended to tell Jane, but she’d been so busy with this new choreographer, and he’d been in the thick of the hockey season plus classes. Plus, well, he couldn’t deny it, plenty of tutoring and also “tutoring” with Ell.

He’d barely seen her. And when they did pass each other, he hadn’t known how to come out with it and say, by the way I had sex and it was great. Better than I’d ever dreamt of. But I think it’s not just the sex. I think it’s Elliott. He’s funny and sweet and thoughtful and even though we’re totally different people, I think we’re more alike than I ever thought.

“Yes,” Mal admitted.

“Oh my God,” she shrieked again, throwing her arms around him and hugging him hard. Her devil horn headband, perched perkily on the top of her blond hair, lurched and nearly fell right off. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because of this, right here,” Mal said. “You’d make a big deal out of it.” And I’d want to make a big deal out of it, even as I’m trying to stay chill.

“It is a big deal,” Jane said reproachfully.

“Only because I waited all this time,” Mal said.

“And was it great? Elliott treated you good, right? He was gentle and careful and—”

“How do you know who it even was?”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Like it was ever going to be anyone else. You wanted Elliott, and he sure wanted you. Got you too, I think.”

Mal didn’t know what to say. He felt got, but he also wasn’t sure if that was the orgasms talking. Orgasms like the ones he and Elliott were sharing would make anyone feel special.

“Yes,” he finally said.

Jane snorted. “I see you really want to share this.”

He knew he should say more, but the saying was never his strong suit, and it was especially not now.

“I . . .it’s really great. It’s perfect, actually, he’s kind of perfect.” Mal stopped abruptly before he could rhapsodize even further.

“I thought he drove you crazy,” Jane joked, nudging him.

Mal sighed. “He does. And somehow that’s even perfect now. I know it isn’t real. It’s just the closeness. The intimacy.” The orgasms . “It’s all lying to me.”

“Is it though?”

Mal shrugged. “I don’t know.” That was the kicker, wasn’t it? He didn’t know. And he always knew.

“You must really hate that,” Jane said. She turned back to the mirror, fluffing her hair, but her eyes were intent on his in the reflection.

“It’s different,” Mal allowed begrudgingly. “Are you ready to go yet? I thought we were done getting ready.”

Jane stuck one of those sharp elbows into his side. “I said you were done getting ready.” She fluffed her hair again and leaned in, checking her face more carefully.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into this,” Mal muttered.

“A Halloween party or the costume?”

Mal snorted. “Either one.”

The costume was barely a costume—Jane had found a plain white T-shirt in one of his drawers and had thrown it at him, even though it was probably at least a size too small. When Mal had complained about this, Jane had told him it was okay, he looked really, really hot.

After she’d affixed the glittery halo to his head and insisted on smearing more glitter across his cheekbones and above his eyes, he’d asked if that was still true, and from her eye roll, Mal supposed the opposite was probably true.

“I guess it’s not really so appropriate now,” Jane said, grinning at him in the mirror. “But it’s still hot. I suppose he’ll be there, tonight, right? Elliott?”

“At the party?” Mal shrugged. “If there’s a party, especially one as big as the big Gamma Sigma Halloween party? I’m sure he’ll be there.”

“You didn’t ask? He didn’t tell you?” Jane finally turned away from the mirror. Pulled on a bright red peacoat that covered her short, tight red dress.

Mal breathed out a silent sigh of relief. They were finally leaving. Which meant he was one step closer to being able to leave the party and come back here. And even better, one step closer to being able to wash all this shit off his face. It itched, kind of, but when he’d pointed this out, Jane had only gone into a long litany of all the crap she was wearing on her face.

Mal knew better than to ask why.

“No?” Why would Elliott have shared his no-doubt-very-full party schedule? That had nothing to do with Malcolm.

“Huh. I thought—”

“We’re not dating. We’re just . . .” What were they doing? Studying and “studying” together nearly every night? “I’m helping him out. And he’s . . .uh . . .helping me out, too. I guess.”

Jane snorted as they climbed down the stairs to the street, slowly in deference to her sky-high shiny black boots. “Yeah, that’s it. Just a couple of mutual orgasms between bros. You’re delusional if you don’t think he’s crazy about you, Mal. Scratch that—you’re both delusional. But probably just you.”

“Thanks,” Mal said dryly. “Your faith in me is heartening.”

“You’re welcome,” Jane said with her typical brightness. “Well, thank God it stopped raining.”

“I said I’d drive us.”

“And then you couldn’t have anything to drink,” Jane retorted. “It’s a party, Mal. Try to unclench a fraction.”

“I’m plenty unclenched,” Mal ground out, fully aware of just how fucking clenched he sounded.

“I really thought when Elliott finally got into your pants, you’d be a bit more relaxed,” Jane said in a teasing voice. “Besides, that’s not the only reason I’m happy it’s not raining. It gets so packed in the house, it’s easier when the party can spill outside, too.”

“Like a little rain ever stopped the idiots of this school from drinking too much and grinding up on each other,” Mal muttered.

“You are really no fun tonight, and that’s too bad. I’m sure Elliott will be pretty disappointed.”

“Ell’s not going to be anything.” Elliott knew what he was like. There was a reason Elliott hadn’t invited him to this party. First, because they weren’t doing that kind of thing. Parties had nothing to do with tutoring or hockey. And second, because he had to know Mal wouldn’t be into it. Frankly, he wouldn’t be going at all, if Jane hadn’t guilted him into it.

He definitely wouldn’t be wearing all this fucking glitter.

“Sure,” Jane said knowingly.

They turned down Clackamas Street. Gamma Sigma house was in the middle of frat row, and even though none of the houses were particularly dark or quiet, that one was bright with flashing lights, Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” spilling out of every open window and door. Nearly everyone they passed on their way through the yard and up the stairs to the front door was in costume.

“See, it looks fun, right?” Jane coaxed.

Mal didn’t say anything, just shot his best friend a glower.

“Come on,” she said, “let’s get a drink.”

“One drink,” Mal said. He didn’t normally drink, but if he was going to survive this hellhole, he was going to need something .

They wove their way through all the dancing bodies in the packed living room and headed towards the kitchen where the bar was usually set up.

Ramsey was there, leaning against the counter. It took a second for Mal to take in his costume, and when he did, he laughed in spite of what he told himself was disgust. “Are you a sperm ?” Mal asked, in disbelief.

Ramsey laughed and shook the stiffened tentacles that towered over his blond hair.

“Appropriate,” Jane said wryly.

“If you wanted, I’d share some with you, my little she-devil,” Ramsey crooned.

Jane rolled her eyes. “Fuck no.”

“And you’re painfully appropriate,” Ramsey said, eyeing Mal’s form from his halo to his tight white T-shirt.

“Yeah, he is.”

Mal turned and nearly swallowed his tongue.

Elliott was shirtless, a pair of bright red suspenders holding up a pair of far too big jeans, the open waistband flirting with the very bottom of his abs, all that skin making it clear that he wasn’t wearing a stitch underneath them. A bright plastic firefighter hat was perched rakishly on one side of his head, and he was grinning, like he knew exactly how much of a wet dream he looked.

Mal swallowed hard.

“I think you just rendered Mal speechless,” Jane pointed out. “Might have to put out that fire later.”

If Jane was talking about the fire currently raging in his underwear, then he sure as fuck hoped she was right.

“Oh I intend to,” Elliott said, sidling closer. He put a hand on Mal’s chest, eyes so bright that Mal felt hypnotized by them—and a little by all that gorgeously muscled flesh on display. He’d just seen Elliott naked less than twenty-four hours before this, but somehow this was different.

“I—”

“And I can promise you,” Elliott interrupted him, which was probably for the better because God knew what undignified sound was going to come out of his mouth next, “that Mal’s not nearly the angel he’s pretending to be.”

“I believe that,” Ramsey said, patting him on the back. “Our Mal’s a dark horse.”

He was not. He was just a guy in front of another guy . . .

Well, fuck.

“Come on,” Elliott said persuasively, “let’s get you two some punch.”

“Punch?” Mal asked, eyeing suspiciously the big bowl full of smoking dry ice and colored an unnatural shade of green.

“You’ll like it,” Ramsey said.

Elliott put a hand on his arm. “It’s safe, I promise. I oversaw its creation with Ramsey, here.”

“If you’re sure . . .” Mal trailed off.

“I appreciate how much you worry about me,” Jane said, “but I trust Elliott. And Ramsey. Nobody’s gonna roofie me, I promise.”

“If you’re sure it’s safe,” Mal said.

“Promise,” Ramsey said.

Elliott picked up two red plastic cups and poured punch into both of them. Handed one to Jane and then passed the second one to Mal.

Their fingers brushed as Mal took the cup.

Mal shivered, and he swore Elliott swayed closer. “Seriously, though,” Elliott murmured, “I didn’t know you’d be here—”

“And you still wore that?”

Elliott chuckled. “I’m not hooking up with anyone else. You know that. Maybe I just like showing them all what they’re missing.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Mal couldn’t help the frown he knew he was making.

“Making you jealous?” Elliott grinned. “I hadn’t meant to, but I think I’m enjoying it.”

“I’m not—”

“It’s alright,” Elliott cajoled. “Trust me, you’re not gonna be alone. This angel thing—I didn’t think it would be so hot, but holy hell, Mal, did you paint this shirt on? And is this glitter?”

“Don’t ask,” Mal said.

“I wanna though,” Elliott said, the corner of his mouth tilting up into one of those irresistible Elliott smiles.

“It was all Jane’s idea and a bad one to boot, but she insisted and well . . .”

“And you’re surprisingly sweet and easy under all that difficult exterior?” Elliott teased. “Even angelic ?”

“Listen,” Mal retorted, “I’ll show you how sweet I am.”

“Ooooh.” Elliott grinned. “ Please.”

Jane tapped him on the shoulder and he was forced to look away from Elliott for a second, which actually hurt.

“You good here? I’m going to go play beer pong with Ramsey,” Jane said.

“Wait—”

“Malcolm, I’m not gonna fuck with her,” Ramsey said seriously.

“Even if I wanted him to, which I do not ,” Jane said firmly. “Remind me to tell you why that would be.”

“Oh honey, don’t tell him, tell me ,” Ramsey said persuasively, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Jane glared and he just laughed.

“You two have fun,” Jane said, shooting him a meaningful look, and then they were walking off.

“You told Jane, didn’t you?”

Mal winced. “I know we said we wouldn’t, but . . .she kind of guessed?”

“It’s alright.” Elliott didn’t seem particularly concerned. “I’m sure Ramsey’s about to figure it out, too. If Jane doesn’t tell him outright.”

“She wouldn’t,” Mal insisted.

“He’s Ramsey .”

“Point taken,” Mal said. Tried not to worry if Ramsey would spill the beans. Sipped his punch and nearly spit it out. “What’s in this?”

“A little of this, a little of that.”

“It tastes like apple-flavored lighter fluid.” Mal made a face. He took another drink.

“Careful, it’s strong,” Elliott said, slipping a hand down to his hip. Cupping it before letting it go. Parties at Gamma Sigma were notorious and nobody would probably notice who Elliott was with or what he was doing with them—but Mal was another story. He never hooked up at a Gamma Sigma party.

At least he hadn’t before this.

“You wanna go outside? Sneak off to a dark corner and make out?”

Mal supposed he shouldn’t have been so surprised. “You want to do that?”

Elliott’s expression was full of disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Please tell me I don’t have to convince you that I’m into it again.”

Mal noted that he’d said into it and not into you . Told himself that he wasn’t disappointed by Elliott’s word choice. He knew what Elliott was. How he behaved, long before they’d ever gotten involved.

You went into this with your eyes wide open. You can’t even be mad.

And he wasn’t. Not really. Didn’t understand what he was feeling. But it was some kind of way.

The kind of way that made him want to latch his mouth onto Elliott’s neck right here, damn who could see, and leave a mark that said bluntly, Elliott is Mal’s.

But he’s not. He’s his own person. He’s not available to own, even if I wanted that.

Which I don’t.

“No,” Mal said. “No, you don’t have to. I know you want me.”

Elliott laughed. “Oh, I do, baby. Believe me, I do.” He took his hand and Mal let himself be dragged out the back door and down the stairs. There were a few knots of costumed partiers around the backyard, but Elliott bypassed all those, pulling him along around the side of the house.

There was a straggly bush, and behind it was an old, worn wooden bench. Elliott sat on it and pulled Mal to him.

Mal went easily, groaning in the back of his throat as Elliott kissed him hard, tongue slipping into his mouth.

For a second, he wondered if Elliott brought all his hookups to this bench—and then he realized he didn’t give a shit. Elliott wasn’t with them now. He was with Mal , fingers digging into Mal’s shoulders, tugging down his tight T-shirt, stroking his collarbones.

Elliott sighed into his mouth, and Mal gave up resisting the urge to do some exploring of his own. After all, those pants were so goddamn loose and it would be so easy for Mal to just . . .

“Fuck,” Elliott moaned. “I hoped you’d come tonight.”

“Is that why you wore this? To torture me? So I’d think about sliding my hand in?” Mal did it as he said it, fingers grazing the tense muscles of Elliott’s lower abs and then dipping under the waistband, gaping just enough it was so easy to slip beneath it.

Elliott was hard, already. He could feel the heat of him, and it would be incredibly easy for Mal to wrap his hand around his cock and get him off.

They’d have a damn good time. But then Elliott would have no reason to stay out here, and Mal wanted more. Mal wanted it to never end.

So he kept his touch light and teasing, loving the way Elliott’s kiss grew more heated by the second.

“God, you’re so hot in this I’m surprised I didn’t spontaneously come on the spot. You, a fucking angel with a halo and glitter .”

“You really like it?”

Elliott laughed. His mouth had slipped to Mal’s neck, and he was nibbling up and down it with an expert motion that would’ve turned his knees to jelly if he wasn’t already sitting down.

“I love it,” Elliott murmured. “It’s hot as fuck. You’re hot as fuck—”

“We’ve established that you believe that,” Mal joked tightly.

“It’s a solid fact. You’re a solid ten out of ten. The first time I saw you . . . God, I wanted you so fucking bad. Then and every goddamn time since.”

Mal pulled back, taking in Elliott’s red, wet lips, the dilated pupils, and the glitter that had somehow smeared across his cheeks. “The first time we met?”

Elliott suddenly looked worried. Guilty. Concerned. “Well, yeah .”

“The time you hit on me at the party? Last year?”

“Uh, yeah .”

But Mal had developed an expertly honed Elliott bullshit detector out of sheer necessity, and he knew he wasn’t being honest. “I don’t believe you.” A horrible thought hit him. “Was it a joke?” he demanded. “Did you hit on me that night as a fucking joke?”

Elliott hadn’t known then about Aubrey from high school, who’d fucked Mal up for years and years. But he knew now , and he’d still not said anything?

“Hold up,” Elliott said, gripping his shoulder, fingers still stroking his neck. Gently, persuasively. “I did not ever hit on you as a fucking joke. You’re thinking of a different time than I am. That’s not the first time we met.”

Mal was confused, even as his heartbeat returned to normal. He ignored how sweet the relief coursing through him felt. “When, then?”

Elliott’s chuckle was wry. “I came to Portland the winter before my freshman year. For a recruiting trip. I went to a game. You were in the locker room after, and you pulled off your helmet, and your hair was longer, then, even longer than it is now.” Elliott reached up with his other hand and twisted one of his short curls around his finger. Kind of the way he’d twisted Mal around his whole self. “I saw you and I wanted you more than I’d ever wanted another guy before. I thought I was probably fucked, because you were straight, but then Ramsey made some joke about getting on your knees and you flushed. That’s when it started for me.”

“ Then ?”

Mal couldn’t believe it. He barely even remembered that. He had only the briefest impression of Elliott, then. If he’d thought about him at all, he’d probably decided that Elliott was a good player and they needed good players.

“Then,” Elliott confirmed. He tugged Mal closer again, kissed him, and it was sweet and hot. Then he broke the kiss and his gaze was so unbearably serious Mal wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. “I came here, because of that. Because of you.”

“You did not.” Mal shook his head, not wanting to believe it. Because if he did, then the first time Elliott had walked across a room to talk to him, at that Gamma Sigma party he hadn’t wanted to go to, that meant Elliott had meant it . Malcolm hadn’t been just any other guy. If Elliott was telling the truth—and Mal had no reason to not believe it, not with how earnestly he was looking at him now—then Mal had been his destination. His only destination.

And, afraid and cold, terrified of letting anyone in and sure that this young, gorgeous guy couldn’t mean everything he was saying, Mal had pushed him away. Had been maybe not a complete asshole about it, but at least partially an asshole.

“My sisters made fun of me for ages. Picking a school because I wanted some guy’s dick. Joke’s on them, I guess, because I got it in the end.” He paused, his fingers still stroking Mal’s neck, like he had some clue of how this was breaking Mal’s mind apart. “Got you in the end.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Mal said. And that was the goddamn truth.

Elliott laughed. “I figured you wouldn’t, which is why I never told you.”

“And all the . . .all the bullshit? All the picking on me? All the shit you pulled, again and again?”

“Got your attention, didn’t I?” There was resigned bitterness in Elliott’s face now, like he knew how this was going to end, now that Mal knew how not casual this was.

But Mal had never wanted it to be that way. Surely Elliott knew that? Or maybe not. After all, what kind of idiot thought it was better to have some attention, any attention, than none? Even if it was negative?

“You should have told me.”

“Yeah, tried that once. More than once.” Elliott rolled his eyes. Tried to move back, like he’d gotten the memo that with the turn this conversation had taken, Mal wouldn’t want him anymore.

He really was an idiot if he thought that was true.

Except you’re doing a shitty job of reassuring him.

“Yeah, I . . .that’s on me,” Mal admitted. “I was fucked up. I can’t say I’m not still fucked up, in some way, but . . .if I’d known you were serious . If I had been able to get out of my own way, back then . . .”

Elliott’s jaw dropped. And that felt even worse. “You’re not fucking with me?”

“Ell, I’d kissed one guy since high school, and it was only to prove I wasn’t a bad kisser and that’s why Aubrey rejected me. It had been . . .” A really fucking long time. “A while, for me. I was a virgin . Out of habit, sure. And fear. And well . . .a whole host of other reasons. But I chose you. I wanted you . So much I threw away all that history, decided it didn’t matter.”

Elliott didn’t say anything for so long Malcolm was terrified that he’d said too much. Or maybe he hadn’t said enough .

“You mean that.”

“You knew that,” Mal retorted.

“Well, yeah, but . . .I thought maybe I just wore you down, or something . . .”

“Or something,” Mal said dryly.

“Or something,” Elliott agreed. He smiled again, and Mal let out the breath he’d been holding. He hadn’t fucked this up. Not irreparably, anyway.

Sometimes it felt like it was always Elliott reaching over their divide. Mal decided that couldn’t stand. So he reached out, tugging Elliott back closer to him, kissing him.

Elliott groaned in the back of his throat, cupping Mal’s face with his hands.

One minute Elliott was leaning over him, and the next, he had his arms full of him as Elliott straddled him on the bench. His eyes were glowing, pinning Mal to the spot. Even if there was a chance in hell of him wanting to move, he couldn’t have. “You like me,” Elliott murmured.

“You just now figured that out?” Mal asked, unable to help the smile that was blooming across his face.

“Well, yeah .” Elliott was laughing now, fingers curled into Mal’s shoulders like they belonged there. “We’re both kind of idiots. I just . . .you seemed like you never wanted to want me.”

“I didn’t. I thought I was just a passing thing. That you’d have me and then move on to one of your many, many admirers.”

“You wanna know a secret?” Elliott leaned in. Lips brushing against his neck. Then his ear. Mal shivered and nodded. “None of them mattered. I was just passing the time.”

He didn’t say until you , but maybe he didn’t need to.

Elliott kissed him again, and it grew hot and frantic fast. Mal could completely discard—okay, almost completely discard—the fear that this would be the last time. Could just enjoy the feel of Elliott, hard against his thigh.

Enjoy the way he tensed and relaxed as Mal slid a hand down his abs and gripped his cock. Gave him an experimental stroke.

“Yes, yes .” Elliott gasped.

“You want this?” Mal murmured against his mouth. “Right here? When anyone could walk by and see you?”

Elliott groaned. And okay, he liked that. Mal, who before this moment had considered himself a private person, even liked it. He loved it, in fact.

This was just another way of marking Elliott as his .

“I bet,” he continued, “you even picked out this costume, hoping that someone would corner you and slide their hand down your pants. Make you come in them, with everyone watching.”

Elliott tensed, and then he was coming into Mal’s grip. Then his mouth was lush and insistent against Mal’s, and that, with the pressure of Elliott against his cock, was all it took to send him over the edge, too.

“God,” Elliott said, as he tried to catch his breath, “if I’d known you were this dirty hot, I’d have seduced you ages ago.”

“I think you tried,” Mal teased.

“I was shit at it,” Elliott admitted with a chuckle. His head dropped down to Mal’s shoulder. “Maybe I should have failed a class before this.”

“That’s not funny,” Mal said sternly. Or as sternly as he could, with the pleasurable lassitude of an orgasm still lingering.

“You like it.”

And okay, maybe he did. A little.

“I think more glitter ended up on Ell than on you,” Jane joked, after they’d cleaned up in the tiny first floor bathroom and rejoined her. She was perched on the kitchen counter, chatting with Wes—the quarterback of the football team—and his boyfriend, Marcus.

“Does Ramsey know about this?” Wes wanted to know.

Mal looked over at Elliott, who only smiled and shrugged. Maybe they weren’t going to be keeping this under wraps for much longer.

“Maybe,” Mal said. “But I’m not worried about it. He’ll keep his mouth shut.”

“Well, you certainly don’t seem to be,” Jane retorted lightly. She jumped down from the counter. “You ready to head out, Mal? I have an early rehearsal tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we can go,” Mal said. He couldn’t stop looking at Elliott who did, actually, have glitter smeared across his cheeks and down lower, even.

“Say goodbye to your . . .uh . . . friend ,” Jane told him. “I’ll be outside.”

Hugging Elliott didn’t seem like enough. After what Elliott told him earlier, they were obviously more than just hooking up, but what had felt right—and hot— in the moment, made him nervous now.

“Come ’ere,” Elliott said, grinning, and pulled him into a tight hug. “Tomorrow?” he murmured into Malcolm’s hair.

Mal nodded, even though he had a full schedule of homework and a game that night.

Elliott let him go. “Be safe,” he said. “Text me when you guys get home safe.”

“How about you text me ?” Mal asked.

“Fair,” Elliott said, smiling.

When he emerged from the house, walking over to where Jane was waiting for him on the front walk, she shot him a very knowing look.

“You’re not being very subtle,” Jane pointed out. “If you’re trying to keep it under wraps, it’s not going to stay that way for very long.”

“Probably,” Mal said matter-of-factly. Shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked down the street, away from the noisiness of frat row on Halloween.

He was less worried about that now than he had been. Now that he understood that Elliott wasn’t just scratching an itch. That he meant it.

That he’d been meaning it for a long time.

“You’re very calm about this. What happened?”

For a moment, Mal considered changing the subject. Not lying, because he’d never once lied to Jane, and he wasn’t about to start now. But she already suspected and if he was being honest with himself, he wanted to tell her.

“He told me tonight he liked me from the beginning. That he came here because . . .” Mal hesitated. Elliott hadn’t said it exactly this way, but this was what he’d said, meant, didn’t it? “That he had a crush on me. For a long time.”

“Oh, you just now figured that out, did you?” Jane laughed. “Welcome to the place we’ve all been forever.”

Mal winced. “Was it that obvious?”

“That you two were very into each other, and masking it by driving each other nuts? A little, yeah. But it’s alright. I understood.”

“Because I didn’t have a lot of experience.” Mal tried not to sound too judgmental about himself, but mostly failed. He was judgmental about himself. Why hadn’t he realized what Elliott was doing? Deep down, he’d known Elliott wasn’t that kind of idiot. That he wasn’t stupid and callous and surface-level.

But he’d still put him in that box and kept him there forever.

“Admittedly, what he was doing to get your attention wasn’t really changing your mind about him,” she said mildly. She wrapped a hand around his arm and tugged him closer. “I’m happy for you.”

It was clear from the sweetness in her tone that she was. “Thanks.”

“And for me, too.”

Mal glanced over at her. “Did something happen?”

“I met . . .” And suddenly that sweetness was suffusing Jane’s whole face, and it was lit up, under that mask of heavy makeup. “I met someone.”

“Who is it?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“I don’t know if that’s true. Though if it’s Ramsey, I’m gonna hate it.”

“It’s not Ramsey.” Jane chuckled. “He’s a good guy, but not my type. Besides, I’m not sure he’s done sowing his wild oats yet.”

“How much wild oats can one person have?” Mal muttered.

“It’s . . .it’s Ben.”

“Ben?”

Jane whacked him on the arm. “ Ben . The guest choreographer from Oregon.”

Malcolm realized immediately why she’d told him he’d hate it. “He’s—”

“He’s older than me? Technically in a position of authority over me? Lives two hundred and fifty miles away? I know.” The happiness in her voice didn’t fade, but it did dim.

“Does he feel the same?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s . . .it’s very intense,” Jane admitted. He looked over at her, suddenly worried about the concern he heard.

“What kind of intense? Are you okay?”

She laughed. “I’m fine, but it’s . . .you know when you’re deep in it, and you know it? And it’s terrifying? That kind of intense.” She paused. “What am I saying? Of course you know. You’re right there with Elliott. You can barely take your eyes off him when you’re in the same room.”

Mal wanted to deny that, but it was probably true. How had he ever looked away from Elliott? Now that he thought about it, it was a fucking miracle he’d managed to keep his wits about him for this long.

“Yeah,” Mal agreed. “But you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Scared. Exhilarated. Terrified. Ecstatic,” Jane said honestly.

He nodded, because he understood that all too well. He’d been pinging back and forth between those two wildly different states ever since he’d started getting closer to Elliott.

“The first time we slept together, it happened because I went over to his dorm room and demanded he explain to me what he’d done to me,” Mal admitted.

“What he’d done?”

“Like he’d put a fucking spell on me. I was going out of my mind, and I didn’t understand it. Didn’t want to. I just wanted to be put out of my misery.”

“And did he?” Jane asked, but the sweet tilt of her mouth made it clear she understood. Yes and no.

Yes, he had been temporarily relieved.

But no, because he was in deeper now than he’d ever been before.

“Kinda.”

“I get that. We kissed at rehearsal yesterday. And now . . .tomorrow . . .I don’t know what’s going to happen. Nothing should happen, but—”

“But it feels inevitable?” Mal understood that all too well.

“Yeah. He said we shouldn’t, but it feels so right.” Jane sighed. “I needed to get out. Stop obsessing.”

“Thus the Halloween party,” Mal said, suddenly understanding his friend’s sudden and vehement insistence they take Ramsey up on his invite.

Jane nodded. “I don’t want him to think I’m just sitting around, waiting on him. I have a life. A good life. A future. I don’t need him, but I . . .” She sighed again.

“You want him,” Mal said. And God , didn’t that ring true for him, too.

In some ways, Elliott was a fucking terrible idea. He was a teammate. A line mate. They depended on each other on the ice. And then next year, Mal would be in Toronto, and Elliott would probably be back here, though it was certainly only a matter of time before whoever drafted him in the spring brought him to their developmental camp.

He was too good to stay in college for the full four years.

“I do want him.” Jane laughed, self-deprecatingly. “I can’t believe I told you that Ben was probably gay. Good thing I wasn’t planning on hooking you two up.”

“Good thing,” Mal said wryly.

“Not that it would’ve worked. You’ve only had eyes for Elliott forever.” Jane patted him on the shoulder as they climbed up the stairs to their apartment.

Maybe that was true. Maybe it was also true that he’d been in such deep denial that it had taken getting closer to realize that the guy was ultimately irresistible.

Mal unlocked the door and as soon as they were inside, Jane was flopping down on the couch, leaning over to unzip her stiletto-heeled boots. “Ugh, my feet are killing me.”

He knew what she wanted, and he joined her, pulling her small but impossibly strong foot into his lap, massaging it gently but firmly the way she always needed.

Jane sighed happily. “Thanks. What am I gonna do without your foot rubs next year?”

“Fly to Toronto?”

“Not an option. Speaking of that, what are you going to do?”

Mal tensed. Knowing what she was asking, but barely ready to think about it yet, nevermind discuss it with Jane.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Jane said. Pressing the way she always did. “What are you going to do with Elliott? He’s being drafted in the spring, right?”

“Yes,” Mal said.

“Well, if anyone’s built for the long-distance thing, it’s probably you.” Jane waved her hand. “You’d be stoic and loyal in the face of anything, forever.”

But Mal didn’t want to be stoic and loyal in the face of anything, forever . That sounded like it would really freaking suck.

“Or,” she said softly, leaning back against the couch cushions, “he could end up close. Even really close. Like Toronto-close.”

That was a pipe dream.

Still, for a second, Mal let himself imagine it. Let himself really believe it could happen.

Playing together on the ice with Elliott during the day. And sharing his nights, wrapped up with him in bed.

Enjoying his bright smile in person, not just over a phone screen.

“Maybe,” Mal said and was relieved that Jane decided to leave it at that.