Page 8 of On Thin Ice

Elliott looked appropriately guilty, at least. “I know it’s not easy.”

But Elliott’s expression didn’t assuage Finn’s anger. Especially when the knowledge, lodged hard and inescapable in his breastbone, told him that Elliotthadbeen there and he’d gotten everything he’d wanted, in the end.

It had never been fair, but the gulf between fair and unfair had never felt as wide as it did right now.

“Damn straight it’s not easy. What if someone had told you to just leave Mal alone? Would you have? Oh wait, I know youwouldn’t have, because weallsaid it. We all told you to stop harassing him, but you didn’t. You kept at him. Because you wanted him and you weren’t willing to settle for less.”

I wish I could settle for less.

Do something else.

But Finn couldn’t. Ice was in his Reynolds blood, as much as he wished it wasn’t. He’d fight for every inch, even though maybe he should’ve given up.

“I might’ve settled,” Elliott protested, but they both knew the truth.

He’d never have given Mal up.

Just the way Finn refused to give up on his hockey dream.

It was why he’d gone completely insane and asked Jacob Braun to coach him.

Jacob was at the top of a very,veryshort list of people who’d never let Morgan get to him. And Finn had wondered—hoped—that he might be willing to impart some wisdom to Finn about how to accomplish that, along with making him a better goalie.

But Jacob had turned him down flat, like it was nothing, like he didn’t matter, just like his father did, sometimes.

Finn’s blood boiled, just thinking of it.

“You did what it took to get his attention,” Finn said. He began to pace. Thinking, maybe, of something he shouldn’t be thinking of. “It was a little insane, and we all knew it.Youeven knew it, but you did it anyway. And it fucking worked.”

Throwing the Hail Mary was not supposed to work.

But sometimes it did.

Which was why football teams, down at the end of a game, always tried it.

“What are you thinking of doing, Finn?” Elliott asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Finn said.Lied.

Because he was thinking of pulling his own Elliott. His own Hail Mary.

“Don’t do something stupid or insane because I did and it worked,” Elliott warned.

“You still don’t have a fucking leg to stand on here,” Finn reminded him.

Nobody was going to talk him out of this.

Jacob didn’t want to give him the time of day? Jacob didn’t want to coach him?

He was going to make saying noimpossible.

He was Morgan Reynolds’ son; he’d cut his teeth on impossible.

“I know,” Elliott said, “but there was every chance it wouldn’t work. It still might not. We might end up on separate coasts, doing this whole long-distance thing.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “And you’ll still be in love.”

“Well, yeah,” Elliott said. At least he seemed to be aware of how fucking weak his argument was.

---