Page 94 of Melting the Ice

Brody looked startled, and turned, pinning Dean with a hot glare.

“Yeah. And?” he retorted.

Dean knew him well enough now to know what he was thinking.Oh, think you’re so smart now, huh?

But if Brody was pissed at him, he couldn’t be pissed at Ramsey—or at himself.

“And you didn’t fuck it all up, just the same as Elliott wasn’t the guy who saved it all. Y’all work as a team. Today it was Elliott who saved your asses. Next time, it’ll be Ramsey. And it’ll be you. It’sbeenyou.”

Brody made a frustrated noise.

“I know, it sucks when I make so much goddamn sense,” Dean teased.

“I liked you better when we were fucking,” Brody said bluntly.

“No, you didn’t,” Dean said calmly.

And that made Brody smile. “Well, it’ssortof true. Nobody’s ever made me come like that before. Didn’t even know it could feel like that.”

Dean almost reminded Brody that he wasn’t exactly experienced in this area, but then he didn’t. If Brody wanted to think he was some kind of sex god, who was he to dissuade him? If it kept Brody coming back to his bed, Dean would be whatever he needed.

“You feelin’ better?” Dean asked instead.

Brody considered the question for a second, and that was how Dean knew he was going to get the truth and not some pretty brush-off.

“Not entirely. Won’t until I talk to Ramsey. Get to the bottom of this,” Brody said. Paused. “Actually, probably won’t feel completely better until I figure out all this future crap.”

“That’s what you and Ramsey are really fighting about,” Dean said.

Brody nodded. And then to Dean’s surprise, Brody pushed off from the counter and wrapped his arms around him, kissing him briefly on the bare shoulder. Dean felt his lips like a brand.Like Brody wasn’t just expressing appreciation for the sex and the conversation, but claiming him,owninghim. And the really shocking thing was how much Dean wished that was really true.

That Brody was his, and he was Brody’s.

Not just for these few fleeting moments of pleasure and companionship, butmore.

He wanted to be by Brody’s side as he figured his stuff out. Wanted to stand right next to him, supporting him, as he kept on this path—or as he tore the whole path up and forged a new one. Whichever one, it didn’t matter to Dean.

He didn’t care if Brody was a hockey player; only that he was Brody.

“Thanks,” Brody murmured into his shoulder.

Dean had a feeling he’d intended the embrace to be quick, fleeting, even casual. But he was also beginning to feel like nothing between them could be casual. Not now. So he held on, wrapping his arms around Brody’s body and holding him close. Comforting him the only other way he knew how to do.

“You got it,” Dean said, after a long moment and then reluctantly, finally let him go.

“Maybe . . .uh . . .” Brody didn’t usually stumble over his words, so Dean wondered if he was uneasy about this. Awkward, even. “Maybe we could meet up this week for uh . . .homework? In the library?”

Dean nudged him, chuckling. “We do that anyway.” It had seemed crazy at first, but he kept making sure of it—that they met up either at the gym or the library or at the apartment at least two or three times a week.

“Homeworkandsex, then?” Brody asked, an undeniably hopeful light in his eyes.

“Yeah. I think I could deal with that,” Dean said. Wes would probably tell him to stop trying to play it cool, because he wasn’tany good at it, but it was too much of ingrained habit to stop now.

“Uh, and next week my parents are coming. I wish they weren’t.”

“No?” Dean didn’t bring up that his mom hadn’t come to visit him once, since he’d moved to Portland. And his dad? Well, he’d never evenmetthe asshole.

“They’re gonna want to talk aboutit,” Brody said.

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