Page 7 of Slew Foot (Scoring Chances #3)

The darkness of the vehicle and the smooth ride made him sleepy though and his head lolled against the cool glass.

He could barely keep his eyes open. A part of him had been tempted to head straight to the hotel and crash, but it was New Year’s Eve and the team had a whole bonding activity planned and … yeah.

This was his team now. He needed to settle in and make this his new home. The quicker he did that the better.

Rafe blinked when someone tugged on his arm. He turned to see Mickey smiling at him in the dim light. “C’mon,” he coaxed. “We’re here.”

Rafe glanced around, surprised they were at the pub already. He must have had a quick catnap. He squeezed his way out of the SUV and followed the crowd into the brick building.

Inside, Jesse threw his arms in the air and yelled, “The party has arrived!”

Next to Rafe, Connor let out what sounded like a long-suffering sigh, and despite Rafe’s exhaustion and the worries he now had about teammates dating, he smiled.

From what Rafe could tell of what he’d seen online and in person, Connor and Jesse couldn’t be any less alike if they tried. But as Jesse took Connor’s hand, tugging him farther into the pub and giving him a quick kiss, they sure seemed happy.

Rafe ruthlessly tamped down the stupid little voice in his head saying so had he and Logan. Until they weren’t .

The pub smelled faintly of beer and delicious fried food and was decorated with streamers and balloons in black, white, and gold.

Someone shoved something into Rafe’s hand, and he glanced down to see one of those silly cone-shaped party hats. He stuck it on his head, knowing he probably looked ridiculous, but was too tired to care.

“The good news is, Jesse and Connor rented out the place so it’s just the team and their guests here tonight,” Mickey said, putting on his own hat with a grin. “We don’t have to worry about the public.”

“Nice,” Rafe said, relaxing a little at the reassurance he wouldn’t get caught doing something stupid, like falling asleep at the table or saying something even dumber than usual.

These guys had probably seen stupider though, he thought wryly. And, thankfully, there was probably a team code about making sure stuff didn’t end up on social media.

Or at least, there had been on every team he’d ever been on.

And clearly Boston was tighter than many about keeping personal questions out of the locker room. Thank God.

“What would you like first?” Mickey asked, nudging him with an elbow. “Beer or food?”

“Food,” Rafe said fervently. Despite the team-provided healthy meal he’d wolfed down after the game, his stomach was rumbling.

“Right over there,” Mickey said, pointing at the far end of the bar where food was laid out on platters and tucked in warming dishes.

Rafe made a beeline for the buffet, immediately grabbing a burger and stuffing it in his mouth.

Behind him, Mickey laughed.

“Shut up,” he muttered around his food. “I was hungrier than I realized.”

“Well, help yourself,” a woman said, and Rafe blinked at her.

She was a beautiful older woman with long strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes that creased at the corners, and a warm smile.

“Thank you?” he said, wiping at his mouth with a napkin she held out, unsure of who she was. One of the coaches’ wives, maybe?

“I’m Catherine O’Shea. Connor’s mother,” she said, her warm smile only widening.

“ Mother ?” he said, surprised, because she didn’t look old enough.

“Well, isn’t he a charmer?” she said to Mickey, winking at him.

Oops, apparently Rafe had said the last part aloud.

“Seems like it,” Mickey agreed.

Catherine patted Rafe’s arm before he could reply.

“Well, I know you’re probably still feeling a little off-balance, especially after the crazy flight you had here.

But if you need anything, you feel free to come to me, okay?

Whether it’s needing help getting settled in a new city or needing someone to talk to, my door is always open to you. ”

“I don’t know where your door is though,” Rafe blurted out.

She smiled. “Well, we can fix that, I promise. What’s your phone number?”

He rattled it off and she put it in her phone.

“I’ll text you the address now because tomorrow Declan and I are hosting a brunch at our place.

A late brunch,” she said with a soft laugh, probably when she saw his face.

He’d never been good at hiding what he was feeling, and he was especially bad at it right now.

“But I’m sure one of the guys would be happy to take you there. ”

“Thanks,” Rafe said, grateful. “I, uh, won’t have my SUV for a bit.”

That would be arriving along with his boxes.

“Probably just as well,” Catherine said. “The drivers around here can be pretty aggressive.”

“I’ll drive you around while you need it,” Mickey said.

Catherine grinned. “He’s a good choice. He’s had practice on the Autobahn.”

Rafe laughed, vaguely remembering that was a highway or something in Germany with no speed limit. He wasn’t so sure he found it reassuring though.

But it was either that or relying on ride shares and well, it couldn’t hurt to spend more time with his new D-partner.

“Sure,” Rafe said, turning to his teammate with a hopeful smile. “You don’t mind?”

“Nah.” Mickey’s smile was genuine. “I remember what it was like to get here and be kinda overwhelmed. I’m happy to play tour guide and chauffeur until you get settled.”

“Thanks,” Rafe said, feeling grateful. “I appreciate it.”

“No worries.” Mickey waved it off. “And I already have your cell phone number.”

Rafe blinked at him for a moment before remembering Connor had texted him after the trade went through and he’d asked if he could give Rafe’s number out to his new teammates.

Rafe had said yes and had gotten some nice ‘welcome to the team’ messages.

He’d also been added to a pretty active group chat, but he’d hardly paid any attention to it, too busy packing and trying not to have a meltdown in an airport.

“Right,” Rafe said, a beat too late. “You do. And I have yours.”

“Perfect.”

“Sorry, I’m fucking useless right now,” Rafe admitted with a sigh, reaching for a plate and piling some food onto it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Mickey said softly. “I get it. You should have seen me when I landed here in August. I felt like I’d forgotten how to speak English, and everything felt a little bit wrong. Of course, I’ll probably go through the reverse at the end of the season when I go there, so …”

“Really?” Rafe asked, surprised Mickey struggled at all because he was so fluent.

“Mostly kidding about the English part,” he said with a shrug. “Most people are bilingual at least, but I do primarily speak Deutsch—uh, German there—so it takes my brain a moment to switch over.”

“Yeah, well, I flunked outta French in high school,” Rafe said with a little laugh. “And I nearly did the same with English.”

He had not been a good student.

“You grew up in Ontario, right?” Mickey asked. He nudged Rafe with his elbow, prodding him along, and Rafe saw someone else had gotten in line for food and he’d stopped partway.

“Yeah. Near Windsor,” Rafe said as he grabbed another couple of burgers and put them on his plate. They were sliders, so the first one hadn’t filled him up much.

He piled more food on his plate and stepped away.

“Let’s go over to the bar,” Mickey said.

“Sure.” Rafe reached for some napkins.

He took a bite of the slider just as Mickey nodded toward the bar, and some of the contents spilled out, sliding down his chin.

Whoops .

He probably wasn’t making a very good first impression, was he?