Page 41 of Slew Foot (Scoring Chances #3)

Rafe’s cheeks were hot but he couldn’t stop smiling as he got off the bus on the tarmac and headed toward the plane.

The team had spent the bus ride absolutely roasting him and Mickey about everything from the marks on Rafe’s neck to the fact Mickey had nearly caused a fight in the middle of the lobby with Logan.

It was embarrassing, but honestly? Rafe kinda loved it. He’d never fit in so well with a team and this was a sign he was unquestionably one of the boys.

Mickey looked less pleased.

Especially when Crawford slung an arm around Mickey’s shoulder and grinned at him. “I’m so fucking proud of our Mouse,” he said theatrically as he shook him a little. “He’s finally turning into a man.”

Mickey gave him a disgusted look and shrugged his arm off. “Getting in fights does not make me a man . And I only did it because Rafe deserves to have someone stand up for him.”

Rafe smiled at Mickey’s words. God, he was going to be the best boyfriend. And now Rafe knew what the hell had been going on with Logan, it all made a lot more sense. He still wished they hadn’t started the conversation in the middle of the hotel lobby and all that, but …

“You were so quiet when you came to us. You hardly said a peep. And now you’re getting a reputation as a fighter.”

A horrified look crossed Mickey’s face. “I certainly hope not.”

“Oh, just you wait. A little more time with this team and you’ll be exactly like me.” Crawford winked.

The look on Mickey’s face made Rafe choke with laughter.

“I feel like a proud papa,” Crawford said smugly, adding a fake sniff like he was tearing up.

In the background, Rafe could hear the other guys cracking up.

“ No one wants to be like you, you asshole,” Connor said drily. “Hell, we don’t want you to be like you.”

“Liar!” Crawford said with a grin. “You’re lucky to have me on this team and you know it.”

Thankfully, the conversation swung away from Mickey and Rafe, and they were finally able to board the plane in peace.

Rafe couldn’t stop smiling as they settled into their seats. It really did feel good he’d gotten the closure with Logan. Maybe it shouldn’t have mattered, but it helped to know he and Logan were just dumbasses or something.

Definitely fucking bad at communicating.

He turned to look at Mickey, who was doing something on his phone.

“Hey,” Rafe said, frowning at him. “You’d … if you wanted to break up with me, you’d actually use those words, right?”

A confused look crossed Mickey’s face as he glanced over. “Why would I want to break up with you? We just got together.”

“Well, I know,” Rafe said. “But like, if you get tired of me someday or …”

“I wouldn’t get tired of you,” Mickey said.

“Well, but if you did, you’d?—”

“ Rafe ,” Mickey said, and his voice was quiet but a little stern.

“I’m not going to get tired of you. But yes, if we couldn’t fix whatever wasn’t working in our relationship, I’d tell you in very plain words.

And I’d be sure we were on the same page about it, okay? I won’t do what Logan did, I swear.”

“Awesome,” Rafe said with a sigh of relief. “That would be great.”

“ But ,” Mickey said, twisting in his seat to look him in the eye. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“No? Not even if I get really serious about you really fast and like … want you to come meet my family and all that?”

Not that he and Logan had moved fast . Not at all. But apparently after all of the time he’d been with Logan, it had still been faster than Logan wanted. It was kind of nice knowing it had nothing to do with him though. Logan was in a different place or whatever.

“No,” Mickey said, reaching out and taking Rafe’s hand. “I was actually thinking about sending my mom an email telling her we were together and talking to her about you coming to meet her and the rest of the family in the off-season. I want to show you around Germany.”

“Oh, cool,” Rafe said happily. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

Mickey blinked, an uneasy expression crossing his face. “I’m not moving too fast for you then?”

“No,” Rafe said, confused by the question. “That’s like … perfect . And maybe we can visit my family too?”

Mickey smiled. “Yeah, of course.”

Rafe sighed happily and leaned over to kiss Mickey’s cheek. “I am so in love with you.”

Mickey smiled but just as he opened his mouth to answer, someone nearby said, “Oh my God, they are going to be fucking unbearable .”

Grinning, Rafe turned his head to see who’d said it, when the intercom crackled to life and the pilot spoke, telling them they were getting ready to depart and what the weather conditions were like.

Then it was time for the flight attendant to do her thing, and the plane finally taxied down the runway.

Rafe settled back, reaching out to take Mickey’s hand and squeezing it. Mickey squeezed back without even looking up from his phone, but the little smile on his lips made Rafe smile too.

The plane lifted off smoothly and they had just reached cruising altitude when Mickey clenched Rafe’s hand with a sudden, sharp grip that made Rafe wince.

“Oww!” Mickey let go of his hand to touch the side of his head. “What the fuck?”

“What is it?” Rafe frowned at him.

“My head. There was this sharp pain and?—”

“Fuck! I better get Dr. Pope,” Rafe said, fumbling with his seatbelt. He got up before Mickey could argue with him and found Dr. Pope sitting with some of the other training people.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Rafe said, not waiting for a pause in the conversation. “But you said to watch for weird symptoms and Mickey’s head started hurting all of a sudden. And I’m really worried about him.”

Dr. Pope’s head snapped up. “I’ll be right there.”

When they got back to where Mickey sat, Rafe found him wincing and rubbing his head still. Dr. Pope cleared his throat and Rafe stepped back, letting him get closer to Mickey.

“Hey, I understand you’re not feeling well?” Dr. Pope said.

“Yeah.” Mickey looked up at him. “All of a sudden there was this sharp pain in my head. I’ve never felt anything like it before. Now it’s pounding .”

“Is it on one side?”

Mickey nodded, wiggling his jaw. “The left. And my ear is …” He said a word, sounding frustrated. “Noise there.”

Dr. Pope frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean. What kind of noise?”

Mickey repeated something in German then stopped, clearly frustrated. “I can’t think of the word right now. Not when my head …”

“Ringing, I think,” Coach Rasmussen said, appearing over Dr. Pope’s shoulder. He said something to Mickey in German.

Mickey nodded. “Yeah. Like a bell.” He shook his head again, like he was trying to clear it.

“When did the ringing start?” Dr. Pope asked.

“Just now, right?” Rafe said, peering down at Mickey.

“Yeah,” Mickey said, then hesitated. “But earlier I noticed something. Not ringing but a sound like—like the ocean.”

“Why didn’t you say something to me then?” Rafe asked.

Mickey shrugged. “I didn’t realize … it was when Logan showed up and I thought I was just angry.”

“Are you dizzy?” Dr. Pope asked with a frown.

“A little.”

“And how long has that been happening?” Dr. Pope asked.

“Uhh, well, it comes and goes but maybe since last night?”

“Last night!” Rafe yelped. “But we shouldn’t have?—”

Mickey gave him a warning look and Rafe realized he’d been about to blurt out details of their sex life to the whole team. He was happy to get chirped by the guys, but no, he didn’t need to give them any more ammunition.

“… um, should have told Dr. Pope right then,” he said.

Mickey shrugged. “I felt fine otherwise.”

“I knew something was wrong,” Rafe said, crossing his arms. “You have a concussion.”

Mickey wouldn’t look at him.

“Well, we can’t say that conclusively ,” Dr. Pope said. “But Rafe is right that a lot of the signs are pointing in that direction.” He pulled a pen light out of his pocket. “I’m going to look at your pupils, okay, Mickey?”

Mickey nodded, then winced like the movement hurt him. “Yes. Okay.”

Dr. Pope hummed quietly as he turned the light on and pointed it at Mickey. He did it to both eyes, then said, “Well, that all looks fine. Your pupils are still equal and reactive. No light sensitivity?”

“No,” Mickey said.

“Well, that’s all encouraging but I think we better have you get some scans as soon as we’re back in Boston.”

Mickey nodded. He didn’t look happy about it but he didn’t argue, and Rafe was glad.

“Are you experiencing anything else?” Dr. Pope asked with a frown. “Anxiety? Lack of energy?”

“No,” Mickey said, frowning too.

“Loss of balance or coordination since the pain started?”

“I don’t know,” Mickey said drily. “I’ve been sitting down since my head started hurting.”

Dr. Pope laughed. “Well, whatever this is, your sense of humor is still intact I see.”

Mickey gave him a small smile.

“Why don’t you get up and walk for a few minutes? See how you feel,” Dr. Pope suggested, stepping back to let Mickey out of his seat. Rafe wanted to go after him, but Coach Rasmussen held a hand up and shook his head.

The pit of Rafe’s stomach hurt as he watched Mickey walk up and down the aisle, the team’s worried, curious gazes following him the whole time. He wobbled a few times and would have tripped as he reached them, if Rafe hadn’t shot a hand out to steady him.

“Well, that answers that,” Dr. Pope said with another frown. “Have you had any trouble concentrating or remembering new things?”

“I remember Rafe and I started dating,” Mickey said with a shrug. “And I got in a really stupid fight with his ex both on the ice last night and in the lobby this morning.”

Dr. Pope laughed. “It’s good you remember those. Any sleep disturbances?”

“Uhh.” Mickey suddenly looked uneasy.

Dr. Pope cleared his throat. “That can’t be explained by the, uh, rush of a new relationship?”

Rafe assumed that meant “too horny to get any sleep” in doctor speak.

“No,” Mickey said. “None. Once I decided it was time to sleep, I fell asleep quickly and didn’t wake up until morning, just before the alarm went off.”

After a few more questions Mickey answered ‘no’ to, Dr. Pope hummed again.

“Well, I’m afraid this still qualifies as being inconclusive.

I’m sorry. I wish I could give you more definitive news, but I think you’re going to have to take it easy until we’re back in Boston.

And we’re definitely going to have you sit out the game tonight. ”

Mickey sighed, clearly unhappy, but he nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Rafe sighed too, relieved Mickey wasn’t fighting the doctor on that. And then it hit him. That wasn’t like Mickey at all.

Shit . Was that a really bad sign?