Page 22 of On Thin Ice

Their weight room session was supposed to last until then, but Finn figured if he took it a bit easy and ducked out five or so minutes early nobody would notice.

But of course Ramsey noticed.

There wasn’t anything Ramsey wasn’t aware of.

Including him sneaking out, apparently.

At least Finn believed that Ramsey cornered him in the hallway outside the weight room, duffel bag on his arm, sweatshirt hood pulled up over his head.

“Uh . . .just have something I gotta handle,” Finn said. Not meeting Ramsey’s eyes, because that piercing light blue saw and cataloged everything.

Some of their teammates—even teammates who’d played with the guy for years—still stupidly thought he was just some pretty boy player, out for a good time. But Finn had long since suspected that was just a front Ramsey put on so nobody would see what he was really doing.

What was he really doing? Well, Finn wasn’tsure, but he was fairly convinced Ramsey just liked organizing everything and everyone around him. Making sure it worked the “right” way. AKA the way Ramsey wanted it to. And since Ramsey also seemed to understand what people fundamentally needed—not even necessarily what they wanted—those scenarios were ones everyone usually ended up happy with.

Ramsey had set up Brody and Dean, Brody’s football-playing boyfriend, as roommates, thinking, Finn was fairly certain, that they’d find their way into the same bed.

He’d gently pushed and prodded Elliott to see past the frozen, unyielding walls Malcom had put up, until they too had ended up happy together.

“What do you need to handle?” Ramsey asked casually.

But nothing with Ramsey was casual. Finn had figured that out. If Ramsey didn’t think he saw through his little stunts with foosball and all the other things he did to try to put Finn’s mind at ease, well . . .

Finn would’ve called him out on it ages ago, but the problem was that theyworked. Even when Finn knew exactly what Ramsey was up to, they worked. Not always, and not as a long-term solution, but well enough that he’d manage not to implode this season.Yet.

“Just a thing,” Finn said evasively.

“A hockey thing?”

Finn made a face. “Not everything is your business, Ramsey.”

But Ramsey just shrugged, like they both weren’tveryaware of the fact he thought differently.

“Just curious. You seem like you’re heading somewhere in a hurry. Kind of like a few days ago, when you raced off from drag brunch at Darcelle’s.”

Fucking Elliott and his huge ass mouth.

“I didn’t—”

“You sure did.” Ramsey’s tone firmed. He was always so relaxed and easygoing until he revealed that he was all steel underneath. It was easy to forget he’d been a foster kid, who’d been forced to make his own way in the world.

But Finn, who’d been forged in a different kind of fire, but still a fire, always remembered.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on with you?” Ramsey asked.

So I can fix it, was the unspoken end of Ramsey’s question.

But Finn didn’t need Ramsey’s fixes. He needed to figure it out on his own, and he’d taken steps to do that.

“No,” Finn said bluntly.

Ramsey made a face. “Are you really gonna be like that?”

“Are you really gonna be this fucking pushy?” Finn wanted to know.

“Hey, we’re on the same side here. I just . . .I’m worried about you.” Ramsey reached out and gripped his arm reassuringly. He meant it. That was Ramsey’s magic; he wanted better for you than sometimes you even wanted for yourself. Reached higher than you’d ever dream to climb.

But not Finn. Not this time.

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