Page 57 of Slew Foot (Scoring Chances #3)

“How do you feel?” Rafe asked the next morning as Mickey got out of bed.

He paused, his eyes narrowing. For a second, Rafe thought maybe he was having a bad hearing day and was trying to read his lips but then he let out a small laugh.

“I feel … good?” he said.

He sounded so surprised Rafe almost laughed but then he thought about how long it had probably been since Mickey actually felt good and got all emotional about it.

“Yeah?” Rafe asked, his throat a little thick.

“Yeah,” Mickey said slowly. “I slept well and I—I don’t feel dizzy at all.”

“Great!” It came and went so that didn’t mean anything for sure , but it was always nice when Mickey’s day started out good.

“No, Rafe,” he said slowly. “I don’t hear anything either.”

Rafe frowned. “You don’t hear anything ? You can’t hear me?”

Oh no. Maybe something had gone horribly wrong.

But Mickey laughed. “No. I mean there’s no ringing. No whooshing. It’s like—it’s like it was before .”

Rafe grabbed him in a big hug and kissed him, tumbling him down onto the sheets. “Holy shit. The cake was magic!”

Mickey laughed. “I’m not sure that’s true …”

“Magic cake,” Rafe said and kissed him again, little pecks all over his face. “I’m gonna buy you so much cake , Mickey Krause.”

“Krow-za,” Mickey corrected with a laugh.

“Fuck! I told you I was bad at languages,” Rafe muttered, hanging his head. He really fucking needed to learn how to say his boyfriend’s name.

“It’s okay. I guess you can’t take my name when we get married though. Maybe I’ll have to take yours instead,” Mickey joked.

Rafe froze, staring down at Mickey. “You want to marry me?”

“Not today or tomorrow,” Mickey said carefully. “I think we should be together for a while before we get married. And my mother and sisters would legitimately murder me if I got married without them there. But someday, yes.”

“Ohh.” Rafe grinned and placed another smacking kiss on Mickey’s cheek. “Hell yes!”

Laughing, Mickey wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. “I was kidding about the name though.” He made a face. “Mickey Moon is …”

“Pretty bad,” Rafe agreed with a wince. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

Mickey smiled. “Yes, exactly. That’s what I want with you. The two of us working together to figure life out.”

Rafe had to kiss him one more time for that.

The following morning, after setting a few slices of cake aside to enjoy later, Mickey brought the remainder of the sheet cake to HCI to share with the team after practice.

Rafe had looked a little bummed Mickey wasn’t going to eat it all, but when Mickey had pointed out if he was finally feeling better and he’d be able to start conditioning and rejoin the team, he should probably watch what he ate and focus on lean protein and not dessert.

Rafe agreed it made sense.

And when the rest of the guys saw the cake, they got excited .

“Wait, is this celebration cake?” Jesse asked, nudging Mickey with his elbow. “Because you seem to be doing way better than you were for a while there, Mouse. We’ve missed having you around.”

“It’s not an official celebration,” Mickey admitted. “I have some more tests to do. But I had a meeting with Dr. Pope this morning and he’s cautiously optimistic I’m on the road to recovery and can start training again.”

A loud whoop went up from the guys that, even a few days ago, would have made Mickey grimace and cover his ear. But now there was nothing. Just the blissful sounds of an ear working exactly the way it was supposed to.

Mickey was delighted. He hadn’t had a single bout of dizziness either.

“Glad to have you back,” Connor said, settling a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “You’ve been missed.”

Mickey got jostled and passed around from guy to guy, being hugged and smacked and shaken in that particularly physical brand of love that belonged to a hockey team celebrating something.

He even submitted to a noogie from Crawford without trying to squirm away, because Mickey was pretty sure that was Luke’s love language.

Eventually, Mickey ended up tucked under Rafe’s arm, smiling so hard his face hurt. “Thanks, guys, it’ll be good to be back.”

“I still can’t believe I got sexiled from my own place last night,” Tanner grumbled around a bite of plum cake. “You two suck .”

“You complained when you caught us on the couch,” Mickey sputtered. “You can’t have it both ways.”

Tanner snickered and waggled his eyebrows. “Sure I can.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, someone threw something at Tanner, and everything descended into chaos.

It was so fucking good to be back.

Mickey threw himself into training and conditioning and the good news must have fired the guys up because over the next few weeks the rest of the Harriers began playing their best hockey of the season.

If it had seemed like they’d lost their energy for a while, the news Mickey was coming back seemed to have lit a spark. They were making a hard push now and slowly, point by point, they were gaining ground.

The Eastern conference had been incredibly volatile all season and with a wild card spot still up for grabs, Boston getting in was a long shot.

But it wasn’t impossible .

Not when a couple of surging teams in their division stumbled and started to lose ground.

Not when Rafe was playing like a man possessed. Like he’d decided to personally ensure Mickey had a chance to play again before the season was up by flattening guys against the boards and smothering any chance their opponents had of scoring.

Mickey wasn’t excited to go to Concord on a conditioning stint, but it was only for three games, and he had to admit it felt good to get his legs back under him.

Concord had already snagged a spot in the Calder Cup Playoffs, so Mickey didn’t have to worry about potentially fucking something up for the team when he flubbed a pass or otherwise wasn’t playing quite up to par because of his time off.

He appreciated the guys and the coaching staff in Concord, who treated him well and helped push him forward, but he’d still never been happier than when he was back in Boston.

When he slipped into his spot in the locker room next to Rafe and laughed at Tanner and Crawford sniping at each other before warmups for his first game back, he felt like he was back where he belonged.

That night, they slaughtered Washington in a 5-0 blowout.

And then they beat New Jersey 6-2, leaving them one point away from the wild card spot.

That long shot wasn’t so far off now, was it?

Two days later, as they sat in the visitors’ locker room in the New York Rockets’ arena, everyone quieted as Coach Hoyt spoke before the first period.

“Guys,” he said quietly. “We know what’s at stake here.”

Mickey’s throat thickened. It was the final game of the season, the one that would determine if they made it to the playoffs or went home early. They all wanted this shot so bad. Were they in a position where they could make a deep run at the Stanley Cup? Of course not.

But even if they got swept in the first round, they wanted a chance . There was always the hope the other team would falter, their goalie would choke, or their top scorer would go down with an injury.

There was always hope for a miracle.

And tonight, they were playing for that chance.

For the hockey gods’ favor.

“I don’t need to remind you we’re up against the Rockets,” Hoyt continued.

Tanner made a face and, across the room, someone else shuddered.

“Fuckin’ assholes,” Crawford muttered.

Mickey had to agree. They played a physical game, and their fans were loud and obnoxious.

Hoyt continued. “For the past two seasons, their biggest threat has been Leif Rasmussen.”

Tanner made a face again.

“He’s out of the lineup tonight.” Hoyt looked around the room.

“But I don’t want you to let yourselves get cocky.

Because he’s not the only talented player on that roster.

If we allow odd man rushes, if we let them get breakaways, if we let them goad us into taking stupid penalties, they will outscore us, no matter how well Webby plays. ”

He glanced over at their netminder, who nodded, his jaw flexed.

Jesse was so boisterous, so happy and easygoing it always amazed Mickey how focused he got when he was competing. How serious and intent.

Coach Hoyt looked at Rafe and Mickey. “The two of you are critical tonight. I need you to smother their offense, shut them down . I need you to make them feel like they can’t gain an inch of ground around our net.”

Mickey nodded tightly.

“Got it, Coach,” Rafe said.

Hoyt looked around. “I know we’ve been dealing with illness and injury and had a streak of tough luck lately.

But I also know we’ve come together in a way that makes me proud.

This team makes me proud. You’re fighters.

” He grinned at Crawford. “And I’m not talking about with fists.

I’m talking about your spirit. Your tenacity .

The energy you’ve been playing with lately.

That’s what I want to see out there tonight, you hear me? ”

The guys surged to their feet and Mickey was swept out of the room and onto the ice on a wave of excitement.

Win or lose, the Harriers were going to give it their all tonight.