Page 63 of Melting the Ice

And he did.

“Torn,” Brody said. “I feel torn. But Coach also talked about how he and Zach are pushing us all to get us to that next level, and that’s a lot of work we weren’t doing before. And I don’t dislike it, not exactly, but it’s a lot to commit fully to a program like that if I’m having doubts.”

“What else did your coach say?” Dean wondered.

“He gave me the season to figure my shit out, which . . .I’ll give him this. It was more than I expected.”

“More than I’d give you,” Dean said, his tone deadpan.

Brody looked downright shocked for a moment, then he realized Dean was joking and he smiled and then even started laughing.

“Oh my God,” he said, “Dean Scott makes an actual fucking joke. I should put it on the goddamn calendar and commemorate this day for years to come.”

“Hey, I’m notthatbad,” Dean retorted lightly.

“Close, but yeah, you’re pretty good, anyway,” Brody said. He leaned across the table and patted Dean’s hand. Or at least that was what he’d attempted to do, before Dean lost the rest of his mind and actually took his hand in his own, bigger one, and squeezed it.

And then didn’t let it go.

His callouses rubbed against Brody’s callouses, electricity running up his arm from the feel of their skin touching.

Brody’s light brown eyes dilated and he caught his breath. Dean’s own was pumping faster, like his lungs couldn’t quite get enough air.

He’d been pretty sure that Brody’s freakout and then his subsequent insistence that they be friends had been meant they’donlybe friends.

But the way Brody was staring at him now didn’t feel only platonic.

It felt loaded. Weighty. Like any moment Brody might lean over and kiss him again, obliterating that particular fallacy.

But then Brody tugged his hand away, and the moment disappeared.

Dean told himself he wasn’t disappointed, but he was. He felt it, deep down, in his bones.

The craziest thing was that he hadn’t even decided thathewanted Brody, though it wasn’t like he thought the lie he was telling himself about being unsure was all that convincing these days.

The story he’d told himself about Brody being dramatic, about being too much trouble, too much distraction, had faded away in light of them becoming friends and hanging out more often.

The truth was, he’d found out that Brody was level-headed and nearly as focused as Dean was. Maybe he didn’t know what the goal was, exactly, but he kept pushing forward. Kept striving, anyway. Made it impossible not to respect the hell out of the guy.

“I . . .uh . . .” Brody’s hand was his own again, but Dean didn’t miss how he stammered, still.

“Something else,” he continued when Dean nodded. “There were some weird vibes in that meeting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I don’t even know. Something off, or different, in the way Coach and Zach talked and even just freaking looked at each other.”

“Like how?”

Brody met his gaze for one burning second and then glanced away. “I don’t know. Like they were on a different wavelength, almost. Like they had a deeper connection. Maybe it’s ’cause Coach used to be Zach’s coach, too, back in the day. But it felt different even than that. More than just a coach or even a mentor. Like Zach was worried about him, andawareof him.”

Dean tried to figure out exactly what Brody was trying to say without actually saying it.

“You mean he . . .helikeshim, like that?”

“Maybe. Or he’s . . .I don’t know. Aware of him. But it goes both ways.” Brody frowned.

“You didn’t like it?”

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