Page 1 of On Thin Ice

Chapter 1

“IsthatwhoIthink—”

Finn barely got half his question out before Elliott abruptly stopped, right there, in the middle of the ice, and smacked a hand right across his mouth.

It was the annual Evergreens fundraiser, when they invited the rest of the student body and Portland U’s professors and staff out onto the ice. The staff had dropped half a dozen big silver reflecting disco balls all around the rink, the lights were flashing to an upbeat pop mix, and the ice was full of people barely managing to stay upright.

“Don’t,” Elliott warned.

Finn shook his hand off. Annoyed, despite knowing better. “I wasn’t—”

But predictably Ell didn’t let him getthatout either, interrupting him first. “You don’t need to start shit. Not tonight.”

“It’s notmewho dislikes him,” Finn reminded his friend sulkily.

He didn’t give a shit about Jacob Braun, despite listening to his dad bitch about him at every possible opportunity.

“I’m just saying the last thing we need is for you to go up to him and start something.” Elliott said this quite reasonably as they started to skate again, barely gliding along with the very slowly moving crowd.

Finn rolled his eyes. Out of the pair of them, it was usually Elliott pushing the buttons of everyone around him. Especially his linemate and their teammate Malcolm. Though Finn had noticed that lately their sniping at each other had taken on a whole new dimension, full of heat.

Finn knew it was only a matter of time before they fucked—if they hadn’t already, and Elliott hadn’t told him yet. And if hehadn’ttold Finn, then that meant it wasn’t just fucking. For either of them.

As far as Finn was concerned,thatwas the real problem, not Jacob Braun skulking over by the far wall, big arms crossed over his even bigger chest, thick dark beard obscuring the expression on his face.

“I’m hardly going to go challenge him to a duel over my father’s honor,” Finn said dryly.

“What honor?” Elliott retorted, his tone even drier. “Morgan just didn’t like that he couldn’t score on Braun.”

Finn knew that. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had pissed off Morgan Reynolds.

“And now you know why I’m not tempted to go over there and kick his ass.”

Elliott nodded, his eyes twinkling suddenly with amusement. “Or you could go over there and flirt with him. He’s hot, even if he’s old.”

“He’s notthatold,” Finn said, not sure why he was insisting on this point. “He had to retire early. A hip injury, I think? He’s maybe thirty-four? Thirty-five?”

“He kind of reminds me of—” This time Elliott stopped himself abruptly.

“Don’t say Mal,” Finn teased. But he could see it. The height. The breadth of Braun’s shoulders. The messy dark hair, the beard Mal could surely grow if he ever allowed it. That intense stare. Even if it was brown instead of blue. “Now I see why you wanted to go flirt with him.”

“I didn’t want to go flirt with him,” Elliott claimed. “I wantedyouto go flirt with him. Imagine how pissed off that’d make your dad.”

Finn could imagine just how that’d go. The disapproval that seemed to permanently reside on his dad’s face deepening even further. Even thinking of the texts he’d get made him not even want tolookat Jacob Braun.

Because Ell was right. Jacob Braun was kind of hot, in that reclusive, brooding mountain man kind of way.

“Don’t need to flirt with Jacob Braun to annoy him,” Finn said as lightly as he could.

Which . . .frankly . . .was not that light, when it came down to it.

Elliott patted him on the shoulder but Finn didn’t feel all that reassured. “I know,” he said quietly.

For half a rotation, they didn’t speak, but Finn had a feeling if he looked up, he’d see Jacob Braun’s gaze on him. He could feel it, burning into him.

He knew he lived in town, in one of the gigantic houses perched in the West Hills. Once or twice, he’d seen him around the facility, but they’d never spoken.

Maybe because Jacob didn’t give a shit that his issue had been with Finn’s dad. Maybe Finn was included in his dislike, anyway.

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