Page 6 of Slew Foot
He shot his roommate a pointed look.
“It’s my fuckin’ apartment,” Tanner groused.
“Yeah, but you were the one stupid enough to rent a three-bedroom place on an entry-level salary,” Crawford shot back.
Mickey tuned them out because this was going nowhere good. It hadn’t the last six times they’d had this silly argument, and he doubted it would go any better now.
Tannerhadgotten himself into a rather bad position, unfortunately. He’d signed a lease on a place far too big for both his needs and his budget.
It was how Mickey had wound up moving in.
There were days when he questioned if that had been a wise move. Tanner was almost entirely useless at anything beyond flirting, playing hockey and video games. He certainly had no idea how to cook or clean, or—in Mickey’s opinion—behave like an adult.
But he was also kind and funny and welcoming, and he’d smoothed over some of the rough edges of Mickey’s transition to living in a new country and playing with a new team.
“Get a move on, guys!” Coach Hoyt bellowed from the hallway and Mickey hastily began lacing his skates.
He meant what he’d told Tanner earlier.
Hockey was his only priority.
CHAPTER TWO
Rafe’s eyes were dry and itchy as he stared out the window streaked with melting snow.
The plane slowly taxied to the gate, sixteen hours after it was supposed to land. If he’d been tired before, he was half-dead now.
Rafe had made it to the Minneapolis airport with no issue, but he hadn’t even checked his bag when he found out his flight was delayed.
It happened again after he’d made it through security, and then again as he waited by his gate.
He’d finally left Minneapolishoursafter he was supposed to, but somewhere around Michigan the storm had gotten worse and after some nasty turbulence, they’d been diverted to Detroit. The landing hadn’t been any picnic either and they’d sat on the runway for hours waiting for word on when they could take off again.
Eventually, they’d been allowed off, the flight cancelled.
Annoyed and exhausted, Rafe had napped on the floor of the airport, fading in and out of sleep as he tried to keep one ear tuned for an announcement they were boarding the new flight he’d been put on.
That hadn’t happened until late this morning and now he only had a few hours before puck drop.
This wasn’t supposed to be how he started his career in Boston. He wassupposedto get in last night, sleep hard, and meet the guys at the practice facility for an optional skate.
Not skid into the locker room at the arena at the last second with no time to spare.
All he could do now was get there as quickly as possible and not fuck up too much on the ice. He tried not to be an asshole and cut in front of people as he got off the plane and sprinted through Logan International in search of his bags, but he probably failed.
Hopefully no one recognized him.
When he burst through the doors of the airport and out into the cold air of Boston, he realized it didn’t feel any different than it had in Minneapolis.
He had a sudden stab of regret that he hadn’t gone to one of the teams in California or Florida or Texas or something. Being slapped in the face by warmth would make him feel like he was someplace new.
But no, it was snowy here too as his new general manager hopped out of his vehicle and greeted him.
“Welcome to Boston,” Gavin Racine said, holding out a hand.
“Thanks, uh, Gavin.” Rafe shook and plastered a smile on his face, trying to appear confident and happy to be there instead of dead on his feet and filled with the urge to turn around and head right back to the city where he’d spent a good chunk of his hockey career.
But Gavin was already grinning and reaching for his suitcase. “C’mon, let’s get loaded up and get you to the Hawk’s Nest.”
