Page 20 of Slew Foot (Scoring Chances #3)

“I’m going to Anker’s room for a bit!” Tanner called out a little bit later as he left the bathroom and opened the door to the hallway. “Back later.”

“Don’t wake me up,” Mickey called in answer.

The door closed behind Tanner with a click and Rafe let out a big sigh before finally, finally shifting away.

The movie was over, the TV still on but nothing was playing, leaving the room quiet and still.

Rafe yawned. “I should get out of your hair.”

“You don’t have to,” Mickey blurted out, because apparently, he liked this torture? Something was deeply wrong with him. He hadn’t realized it until now but clearly it was true. “Unless … if you want to be alone, that’s cool.”

“No.” Rafe rolled onto his side, pillowing his cheek on his bicep and giving Mickey a soft smile. “This is nice. I’ve missed this.”

“Yeah?” Mickey asked, not sure exactly what he meant but unable to look away.

He wanted to reach out and run his hand through Rafe’s thick dark hair. He wanted to slide down and cup his cheek and kiss him all sweet and slow. And then he wanted to roll Rafe onto his back and talk dirty and a little mean to him until he begged to come.

Mickey suppressed a shiver at the thought.

“Yeah. I mean …” A little furrow appeared on Rafe’s brow like he was thinking hard. “My ex and I used to do this all the time.”

“Oh?” Mickey asked, swallowing thickly because had Rafe compared him to his ex-boyfriend?

“Logan and I were such good friends,” he said. “And like, that’s how all of my relationships start cause I’m demi, but?—”

“ Ohh ,” Mickey said, some pieces clicking into place. “I didn’t realize you were demisexual.”

“Yeah, me either. Not until Zane Murphy talked about it.”

Mickey frowned. He knew the name. Zane Murphy had been one of the first guys in the league to come out.

Not the very first—that was a goaltender named Noah Boucher, but Zane had been half of one of the first gay couples to come out.

He’d been dating his winger, Ryan Hartinger at the time, and they were now married and had kids.

It was a nice, feel-good story, and they were in the media semi-regularly.

Mickey had a vague recollection of Zane talking about his demisexuality at one point, but it hadn’t registered. Mostly because it hadn’t applied to Mickey at all and he’d been playing in the DEL at the time.

“So, he helped you realize that?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah. I mean, I always kinda knew I was different than other guys I played with, but I thought it was because I was gay.”

“Was it hard growing up gay and playing hockey in Canada?”

“Kinda,” Rafe said. “I mostly learned to not talk about it a lot. And then I got drafted by Carolina, so I didn’t talk about it then either.

But there were other guys, you know. Guys who didn’t want to talk about it but were definitely into other guys too.

And so I—I dunno, we kinda ended up together.

Buddies, teammates … you know. I dated a few guys, and we didn’t really tell anyone. ”

“Oh,” Mickey said. He got that. Germany was certainly more progressive than the United Sates and even parts of Canada in that way. But hockey was still hockey, and Mickey hadn’t brought any guys he dated around the team in Munich either.

“Did it help? Knowing you were demi?” he asked.

“Sure,” Rafe said. “A lot of stuff made sense after I figured it out. But I was never like … upset about it or anything.”

Mickey nodded. “So, you need a connection before you get intimate, right?”

He didn’t even know why he was asking. No good would come of it. But he did want to get to know Rafe better.

“Yep.” Rafe smiled. “I still get horny and stuff. I just don’t want to do anything about it with a guy until I feel like I know him well.”

“And earlier when you said this feels like before. When you were with Logan?” Mickey asked tentatively, not sure if he’d gotten that right or not. “Did you mean …?”

He didn’t know how to finish the question.

“Oh!” Rafe looked startled. “I mean, no. Not really. Sorry. I didn’t mean we were—that I was …”

He trailed off, looking flustered. “Sorry.”

Mickey swallowed down his disappointment. “No, that’s okay. What did you mean?”

“Just, um, you know. Hanging out with a good friend like this. I missed it.”

“I get that,” Mickey said. The little note of longing in Rafe’s voice made Mickey’s heart ache.

“Coming to a new team. It’s lonely,” Rafe whispered, like it wasn’t something he usually said aloud.

Mickey nodded. “I get that too. I miss the guys I used to play with back in Germany.”

“Yeah but,” Rafe said. “It got really hard there at the end. When Logan and I broke up”—he made a funny face Mickey didn’t quite understand—“I didn’t just lose my boyfriend. I lost my best friend.”

Mickey reached out to touch Rafe’s arm. “That sounds terrible.”

“And things got weird with the team. Guys started to take sides, and it got super tense. We swore we wouldn’t let our breakup mess with the team, but like, it was awkward all the time . And I …” He sighed. “I dunno.”

“Jesse dating Connor and Gavin dating Dakota makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, a little bit,” Rafe admitted. “Like, it makes me wonder when it’s all going to fall apart and what it’ll do to the team when it does.”

“I understand,” Mickey said slowly, though it was a little sad Rafe assumed it would fall apart. Mickey was no expert on relationships, but Connor and Jesse and Gavin and Dakota seemed very solid to him.

“Thanks.”

Mickey shrugged because he didn’t think he needed to be thanked for it but whatever.

They fell silent, the only sound around them the soft hum of the heater and a door down the hall closing. The room was dark except for the light from the TV streaming across the bed. Mickey wanted to say something, wanted to do something, but this quiet, peaceful moment was nice too.

He turned to look at Rafe’s face in the blue light and when Rafe caught him, all he did was smile. That slow, sweet smile that made Mickey swallow hard because it filled him with so much want.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I’m wrong?” Rafe asked after a moment.

“No. Not unless you want me to.”

“I mean kinda,” Rafe said with a little laugh. “I want to be wrong about this. I don’t like going around thinking bad thoughts about other guys’ relationships.”

“Well, I mean, it has worked for other guys in the league,” Mickey pointed out. “Zane Murphy and Ryan Hartinger. Anders Lindholm and Kelly O’Shea. Felix Hale and Jonah Brewer … they’re all still going strong. They played together and dated and are still in love. Still committed.”

“True.”

“I guess the only way to know for sure is to wait and see.” Mickey looked him in the eye.

“Also true.” Rafe’s expression turned thoughtful.

Mickey nudged Rafe with his foot. “I guess in ten years or whatever, if they’re still together, you’ll owe me a drink”.

Rafe looked surprised. “Just a drink?”

“Why?” Mickey asked. “Did you have something else in mind?”

Rafe looked thoughtful. “No, not really.”

“Okay.” Mickey held out his hand and smiled. “A drink it is.”

They shook and Rafe’s calloused palm was warm against his. Mickey reluctantly let go.

They lapsed into silence again but apparently Rafe wasn’t done because he said, “So I guess I want to say thanks. For making this easier for me. Like, moving here and everything. You’ve been so nice, and it means a lot to me.”

“Yeah of course. I was glad I could help,” Mickey said automatically. “You know, I get it if you want to look at other places, but I think—I think when we get back to Boston, you should move in with Tanner and me. I mean why not, right?”

“I don’t know,” Rafe said slowly. “Are you sure you want that? It didn’t seem like you did.”

“No, I’m good with it,” Mickey said firmly. “I promise.”

And he was. Now, anyway. But he wasn’t sure if he’d come to regret that later or not.

The words were out now though, too late to turn back, and Rafe smiled and leaned over to hug him.

Mickey tensed because fuck that was a lot, Rafe’s arms around him while they lay on a bed in this darkened room, their bodies warm as they pressed together. But the pure happiness on Rafe’s face made Mickey smile and hug him back tightly.

“Wanna watch more of the show we were watching on the plane?” Rafe asked when he pulled away.

“Sure,” Mickey said as Rafe got up to switch out Tanner’s laptop for Mickey’s.

Mickey had to give him his password and talk him through how to navigate to the streaming service app since everything was set to German, not English, but after it was all set up, Rafe returned to the bed, beaming.

His smile made Mickey’s chest ache.

Rafe wanted a friend . He wanted a friend and a teammate, and he didn’t want it to become anything else.

And Mickey was going to have to figure out how to give him that.

Because there was no guile in Rafe, no scheming or angling or anything like it. Just a simple, platonic desire for friendship and Mickey wanted to give him that.

Wanted it more than he wanted anything. Even Rafe’s body. Or knowing what it would be like to have Rafe completely surrender to him.

To Mickey’s surprise, Rafe fell asleep quickly.

They’d turned on the show and one minute he was watching intently and the next, his eyelids were closed and he was breathing slowly and deeply beside Mickey.

His hair had fallen over his forehead and Mickey resisted the urge to brush it away.

He was so … Mickey’s heart clenched because Rafe was honestly everything . It would have been bad enough if Mickey only wanted to fuck him. But it was so much more than that already. And that was the hard part.

A while later, Tanner banged through the door, hollering something back at a volume not even remotely appropriate for a hotel at this hour of the night.

“Quiet!” Mickey hissed. He nodded at Rafe, who had twitched a little, but hadn’t woken.

Mickey resisted another urge to smooth his hand over Rafe’s hair.

“Oops,” Tanner said, still too loud, but attempting to be quieter. “He passed out on you, huh?”

“Yeah. After we turned something else on.”

“You gonna wake him up?”

Mickey studied Rafe for a moment, then slid out of bed. “If you didn’t wake him up coming in, I’m not sure anything will.”

“Oh, I could come up with something,” Tanner said with a laugh. In the light of the TV screen, he looked practically diabolical.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Mickey said drily. “But no. Just leave him.”

“You gonna go sleep in his room?” Tanner asked. “Because you’re not sharing with me .”

Mickey made a face. “I can share with him.”

Which was going to be a whole new level of torture but what the hell? Mickey had survived this so far. He’d be fine.

Maybe.

He got ready for bed, then stared at Rafe sprawled out on top of the duvet. Mickey sighed and turned up the temperature a degree or two. Rafe looked pretty cozy with his sweats and tee on and he wore socks, so he’d probably be fine.

Mickey slid under the covers on his side of the bed and stared up at the ceiling while Tanner disappeared into the bathroom.

He banged around in there for a while, running water and flushing the toilet—in that order, which was a little disturbing—before he came out again. He stripped off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. “Why’s it so hot in here? I thought you turned the temp down.”

Mickey shrugged because he wasn’t quite ready to admit he was worried about Rafe getting cold.

“Whatever.” Tanner paused in the middle of the room and gestured to the TV. “You still watching this?”

“Not really.”

“Mind if I change it? I can shut down your laptop for you.”

“Go ahead.” Mickey rolled onto his side and reached for his earplugs and eye mask, which he’d already set out on the nightstand.

It took a while to fall asleep, but that had nothing to do with Tanner or the movie.

No, it was Rafe, sleeping soundly behind him.

So close and yet too far away.