Page 11 of Slew Foot
Although maybe not the fans. Because they werenotimpressed with him this season.
The rest of the period passed pretty uneventfully, and the team won in regulation, which was a nice change of pace. They’d been losing a lot lately.
Mickey hadn’t played badly tonight, but he hadn’t wowed anyone either.
It was … fine.
Even if a tiny part of Mickey had been hoping for instant chemistry with Rafe on the ice, that was probably unrealistic, right?
CHAPTER THREE
Rafe settled in his stall and began stripping out of his gear on automatic pilot, half-listening as the guys gave out the prize to the star of the game.
It went to Anker Henriksen, one of the top line forwards, and Rafe cheered for him, not only because he’d gotten the game-winning goal but because he was Rafe’s new teammate.
Because thiswasRafe’s new team. His new home.
He’d been traded before, so this wasn’t his first time in a new NHL locker room, but this time was easier. This time it had been his choice.
Just because it waseasierdidn’t mean it was easy.
The fierce hawk on the logo in the center of the carpet and the red, orange, yellow, and black color scheme … they felt strange. Unfamiliar.
But the benefit of having spent his whole life playing hockey was that the rest of it was familiar. The sound of guys laughingand joking, the smell of sweat, and the bump of his stall mates’ elbows against his as they stripped down, was comforting.
Thanks to Anker, they’d won tonight, and Rafe hadn’t totally fucked anything up, so it had all gone better than it could have. Mickey had a point about both his lack of sleep and practice too.
Itwasa comfort to think he and his new D-partner hadn’t even had a single practice together yet.
They could get better.
After Anker had hung a weird-ass wall hanging around his neck—which was a strange prize for the game—and given a little speech, Jesse Webber stood.
“Okay!” he shouted. “It’s New Year’s Eve and you know what that means, boys!”
Rafe stared blankly at Jesse for a moment, then shook his head. “Uh, I don’t,” he called out.
Jesse grinned. “It means we’re celebrating! Team party at O’Neill’s!”
The goaltender kept talking, but the words rushed over Rafe in a haze of white noise. None of it stuck and he grimaced and glanced over at Mickey, who was stripping out of his gear too.
“Uhh, so who’s O’Neill?” Rafe asked, glancing around.
He damn well knew their captain was named O’Shea.Everyonein hockey knew about the O’Shea family. But who the hell was O’Neill? Maybe he was a call-up from their AHL roster in Concord?
Though it seemed weird someone like that would be hosting a team party, especially on a holiday.
Mickey smiled. “Not who.Where. O’Neill’s is an Irish pub. We go there a lot as a team.”
Mickey must have seen the look on Rafe’s face because he gave a vague wave. “This isn’t a crazy party team or anything, I promise. People have a few drinks, hang out, play pool. And no one gives you problems if you choose something nonalcoholic.”
His expression tuned thoughtful. “Tonightmightbe a little bit crazier since it’s New Years, but still. No pressure if you’re not a drinker.”
Rafe shrugged. “Oh, no. No, I drink some. Just not feeling like a wild party tonight, you know? Not if anyone wants me to stay upright, anyway. A couple of drinks might knock me out when I’m this tired.” He shot Mickey a rueful glance.
Mickey nodded, grinning. “Hey. Uh, would you like to go with me tonight?”
“Uhm,” Rafe said, scratching the back of his still-sweaty neck. “No offense, but I just got out of a relationship and?—”
