Page 89 of Slew Foot
Connor gave him a skeptical look. “Just checking.”
On the ice, they were setting up for a new faceoff and Mickey watched, startled when Coach Rasmussen bent down, grasping his shoulders and flooding his nose with the scent of the mint gum he constantly chewed.
“Youbetterbe fine, Krause. You’re usually one of the most level-headed players I’ve got. I’m aware you and Rafe are …closethough. I get it but don’t let his ex-boyfriend get in your head.”
“I wouldn’t!” Mickey promised, although privately he wasn’t sure if that was actually true. Also, he was a little horrified that even his coach had noticed his feelings for Rafe. Or was it his guilty conscience talking?
Had Rasmussen merely meant their friendship?
“Good.” Rasmussen squeezed his shoulders once, then patted his upper arm. “Good man.”
Mickey let out a sigh and did his best to focus on the game ahead. He really,reallydidn’t want to prove his captainorhis coach right.
Or was that wrong?
Whichever it was, there was no point in dwelling on it, not when there was hockey to play, so Mickey chewed on his mouthguard and focused on the game.
After the first period ended with Boston scoreless to Minnesota’s single goal, Rafe clomped off the ice and over to grab a headset to talk to Jocelyn Yang. She was the rinkside reporter and did theintermission interviews. She was nice and everything. He just hated doing them.
Unfortunately, he was tonight’s target. And there was no wiggling out of it. He’d already tried. Tyson had given him an unimpressed look and said, “You’re doing it,” and when the head of PR told you to jump, you had to jump.
The headset crackled to life and he heard Jocelyn’s voice coming to him from Boston. “Rafe, how do you feel about playing against your former team?”
Rafe shrugged and said, “I’ve just gotta go out there and keep playing hockey. Focus on helping guys get pucks to the net and blocking shots. No different than any other team we play against.”
“But do you find it challenging to go up against people you were once close to?”
“I know guys on other teams,” he pointed out. “Across the league. I’ve played with them too.”
And yeah, he could be slow to catch onto stuff sometimes, but it was pretty obvious what she was getting at. She wanted him to talk about how hard it was to play against his ex and have some like … emotional moment or something.
She was nicer about it than the local sports guy, Les, who’d tried to ask him a bunch of shitty questions when he’d arrived. But Rafe wanted to focus on the stupid game and not think about all the rest of this bullshit.
Thankfully, Jocelyn finally felt sorry for him or something, because she switched to a more normal question. “What do youthink the team is going to need to do differently in the next period?”
Rafe rattled off his usual answers, answered a few more questions, and nodded when she said thank you and finally let him go.
He escaped to the locker room, handing his gloves to Rusty, the equipment manager, to dry out before the next period. He hated putting sweaty gloves back on. Although he wasn’t as fussy as some guys, who wore a different pair for every period.
Rafe clomped over to his stall, tossing his helmet into his stall with a little more force than necessary.
Mickey shot him a look, clearly asking, “you okay?” and Rafe nodded, reaching for a water bottle.
Mickey smiled and bumped their shoulders together.
He’d stripped off his jersey and some of his pads. He never wore a compression layer on the top, claiming he got too hot, and the skin on his chest and upper back was a blotchy pink-red color as he turned and reached for a power bar.
Rafe let himselflookfor a moment as Mickey tore the snack open and stuffed it in his mouth, noticing the flex of his shoulders and the freckles across them. Rafe suddenly wanted to lean in, press his lips to them, and taste the salt of Mickey’s skin.
Rafe fumbled his bottle and nearly dropped it.
“You sure you’re okay?” Mickey asked, his voice muffled by the food.
His eyes were bright with laughter and his hair stuck up funny from the quick towel dry he’d probably done earlier, and Rafestared at him, open mouthed, because he didn’t know what else to say or do.
It had hurt seeing Logan earlier, but not for the reasons Rafe had expected it to.
He didn’t miss Logan or want him back or anything. At most, he was hurt and kinda pissed he’d never even gotten a decent apology for the way stuff had ended between them and that he’d had to find out about Logan’s new girlfriend the way he had.
