Page 35 of Slew Foot (Scoring Chances #3)

Mickey trembled as he walked over to the hotel bed. Partly, it was because the air conditioning had been turned up, and it was icy cold against his wet skin.

The rest of it though … that was all emotional.

After Mickey had given Rafe the ultimatum, Rafe had nodded. And then he’d just stood there in the shower, with his half-hard cock tenting his shorts and a frown on his face.

He was still doing that by the time Mickey was squeaky-clean and left the shower.

As Mickey toweled off, he had started wondering if Rafe was the one who’d had a bad hit tonight.

But a moment later, Rafe turned off the water and stepped out of his shorts, letting them fall to the shower floor with a wet splat .

Mickey had escaped the bathroom then.

Now, his stomach churned as he stepped into clean underwear, sweats, and a T-shirt. He kept his head down when the bathroom door opened and Rafe came out in a towel.

What if he’d made the situation worse ?

He’d have to move out of the apartment, probably. There was no getting around him and Rafe being paired together on the ice or being teammates or any of that.

But maybe if he got some space the rest of the time …

A warm hand around his forearm made him look up and when he did, he saw Rafe had dressed in a pair of shorts and looked unusually serious. He didn’t say anything though, just tugged Mickey over to the bed and gently pushed him down onto it.

Mickey blinked up at Rafe for a moment before he manhandled Mickey until he sat with his back to the headboard and his legs stretched out on the bed.

Rafe knelt on the mattress for a moment just staring at him before he shifted to his side. He settled his cheek on Mickey’s thigh, but rather than looking toward Mickey’s feet like he had when they watched TV like this in the past, he faced his head.

Rafe reached out and grabbed Mickey’s T-shirt, not doing anything with it, just pinching a fold of it like he needed something to hold on to.

Mickey’s heart did a little flip at the gesture, and he reached down and sank his hand into Rafe’s damp hair. Rafe sighed, burrowing against his leg, the tension in his body finally softening.

“That’s better,” he whispered.

“For me too,” Mickey admitted, equally quiet.

The room was dim, with only the lamps on the nightstand and the desk lighting it. It was enough Mickey could see Rafe’s face clearly as he licked his lips, staring up at him.

“Hey, I’m sorry about Logan, by the way,” he said, gently tugging at Mickey’s shirt.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Mickey pointed out. “He was the one who slew-footed me.”

Rafe frowned, like he wasn’t sure if that was the right word and honestly, Mickey wasn’t sure either. But whatever. That didn’t matter right now.

“But he did that because of me ,” Rafe said.

“If he’s pissed you’re not dating anymore and that you’re playing for Boston now, he shouldn’t have been dumb enough to let you go,” Mickey pointed out. “That’s on him.”

“It’s just not like Logan. He’s never been a dirty player.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Mickey said drily. Because he wasn’t known for his temper either and he’d struggled all night to keep it in check.

And look where that had gotten him.

Well, it had gotten him an invitation to Rafe’s room and their bodies tangled together on Rafe’s bed, so it wasn’t all bad, Mickey admitted to himself.

But that was beside the point.

Mickey frowned, remembering something. “Hey. Didn’t you have plans with your friend Zach tonight?”

Rafe shrugged. “Yeah. I cancelled.”

“Why? I’ll be fine.”

Rafe glared at him.

“I’m fine ,” Mickey protested. “If you’re that worried, you could go meet him downstairs at the bar even.”

“No,” Rafe said flatly. “I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight.”

“I’ll have to use the toilet sometime ,” Mickey pointed out in an attempt at humor. The shower was bad enough, but a man needed some privacy sometimes.

Rafe, however, was not amused. “You can leave the door open. It’s not like we don’t piss right next to each other at the rink anyway.”

That was true, but …

“Rafe …” Mickey rubbed his free hand over his face because his head was hurting more, and he was tired and he still didn’t know what the fuck was going on. “You’re worrying too much.”

“Says the guy who watched me sleep while I had a fever.”

“I just …” Mickey felt helpless all of a sudden, like things were unraveling or maybe raveling, in a way he couldn’t seem to stop or get a grip on.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe whispered, rolling over and staring at the ceiling. “I know I shouldn’t be so … needy or whatever with you when we’re not even dating but?—”

“I want you to be needy with me,” Mickey blurted out. “That’s the fucking problem, Rafe. I want you to need me. I want you to—” He cut himself off because he couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say everything he wanted to say.

Not because English felt clumsy on his tongue when he got emotional or even because he was afraid of scaring Rafe off.

He was quite sure he wouldn’t.

But he was worried about putting pressure on Rafe when he’d made himself clear about not wanting to date a teammate. But what he’d said earlier … the way he’d been acting lately …

Had he changed his mind?

“I want you ,” Mickey finally whispered.

Heart beating too fast in his chest, he reached out, rubbing his thumb across Rafe’s cheek.

Rafe’s lashes fluttered closed for a moment before he opened them, turning his head and looking Mickey in the eye. Mickey’s hand ended up cradling his jaw.

“I want you too.”

“ Do you?” Mickey asked because he knew Rafe’s sexual desire was much more complicated than his own. Just because he’d gotten hard in the shower didn’t mean he actually wanted to act on it.

Rafe nodded, his swallow audible.

“Don’t—don’t do something rash because I took a hard hit tonight,” Mickey whispered. But he didn’t stop dragging the side of his thumb across Rafe’s jaw, the rasp of his stubble pleasantly abrasive.

“It’s not that. I—after the game I realized tonight I don’t want Logan back.”

Mickey squinted at Rafe’s profile. “What?”

“I don’t want Logan back. I’m kinda hurt and pissed he never apologized for acting like a dick when we broke up but I’m over it. Over him.”

“Well, that’s good,” Mickey said because he wasn’t sure what else to say. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re teammates and you don’t want to date a teammate.”

Rafe rolled over, burying his face against Mickey’s stomach. “Ugh. I think it’s too late,” he mumbled.

“Hey, look at me. What did you mean? What’s too late?” Mickey wrapped a hand around the back of Rafe’s neck and gently coaxed him to pull back.

Rafe blinked up at him. “I’m already in love with you.”

“ Rafe ,” Mickey whispered, stunned by the confession.

“You said you wanted me to tell you if I wanted to be with you. And I want to be with you. I want you to be my—my person .”

“What does that mean to you?”

Rafe shrugged. “My boyfriend and my roommate and my D-partner and my friend.”

Stunned, Mickey stared at him for a few heartbeats. “That isn’t too much?”

“No.” Rafe opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but he shook his head and said, “No,” again.

“What happens if we don’t work out?”

“Then I’ll be fucking wrecked, and I’ll beg Gavin to trade me somewhere else, and it’ll suck because I love Boston, and I want to stay here but—but it won’t be the end of the world.

I thought it would be. Leaving Minnesota was so fucking hard.

And leaving Boston and you , that would be even harder. But it’s still better than …”

He trailed off, looking helplessly at Mickey.

“Better than wanting each other and not being together because we’re too scared to even try?” Mickey guessed.

“Yeah.”

Mickey let out a shaky breath. “So we’re doing this?”

Rafe smiled, nodding as he sat up and leaned in. He was so careful when he pressed their lips together. It was a light touch and his breath smelled of mint, like he’d brushed or something before he came out of the bathroom.

Mickey smiled too and closed his eyes as he kissed Rafe again.

He was also careful, half-convinced Rafe would bolt or change his mind. But he pressed closer, all soft and pliant against Mickey now.

Mickey’s head spun as he threaded his fingers through Rafe’s hair again, but this time, it was to deepen the kiss. He parted his lips and teased at the seam of Rafe’s mouth with his tongue.

Rafe opened immediately, letting out a soft, pleased noise like he’d been waiting for it for a long time.

Mickey had too.

Mickey smiled again and shifted, pulling Rafe down until they lay stretched out on their sides, bodies tangled together.

He cupped Rafe’s cheek, deepening the kiss, showing Rafe the way he liked it.

The kiss got deeper, hungrier as they continued, and Rafe responded exactly the way Mickey had expected, sweet and eager and so, so obliging.

It made heat spread through Mickey’s body until need simmered low in his gut.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it any longer and he wrapped his thigh around Rafe’s and rolled him onto his back, his head swimming a little at the change in position.

Mickey had only been able to accomplish that because Rafe had been surprised and willing to be manhandled, but it still made anticipation rise in Mickey’s body as he imagined what else he could do to Rafe.

What else they could do together .

He sat up, pushing away the sudden and annoying throb in his head long enough to take his shirt off before he pulled Rafe down again, pressing their bodies tightly together. Rafe sighed and went limp beneath him.

Well, not all of him was limp.

There was a hardening cock pressed to Mickey’s hip.

Pleased, Mickey cupped Rafe’s cheek and kissed him again, teasing his tongue into Rafe’s mouth and roaming his free hand down Rafe’s torso. He brushed the pad of his thumb across Rafe’s nipple before pinching a little.