Page 56 of Slew Foot
Mickey made a face. “I can share with him.”
Which was going to be a whole new level of torture but what the hell? Mickey had survived this so far. He’d be fine.
Maybe.
He got ready for bed, then stared at Rafe sprawled out on top of the duvet. Mickey sighed and turned up the temperature a degree or two. Rafe looked pretty cozy with his sweats and tee on and he wore socks, so he’d probably be fine.
Mickey slid under the covers on his side of the bed and stared up at the ceiling while Tanner disappeared into the bathroom.
He banged around in there for a while, running water and flushing the toilet—in that order, which was a little disturbing—before he came out again. He stripped off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. “Why’s it so hot in here? I thought you turned the temp down.”
Mickey shrugged because he wasn’t quite ready to admit he was worried about Rafe getting cold.
“Whatever.” Tanner paused in the middle of the room and gestured to the TV. “You still watching this?”
“Not really.”
“Mind if I change it? I can shut down your laptop for you.”
“Go ahead.” Mickey rolled onto his side and reached for his earplugs and eye mask, which he’d already set out on the nightstand.
It took a while to fall asleep, but that had nothing to do with Tanner or the movie.
No, it was Rafe, sleeping soundly behind him.
So close and yet too far away.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The team returned to Boston after losing in Dallas, winning in St. Louis, and losing again in Columbus.
The annoying part was they were playing well. Better, anyway, or that was what Coach Hoyt kept saying.
Rafe felt like he and Mickey were gelling on the ice too.
It didn’t seem possible they could be getting better, playing better, and yet, losing every couple of games.
They weren’t losing by alot. Just a point here and there and sometimes in overtime. But it was enough that if they didn’t turn it around soon, they’d start slipping in the standings even more. The beat reporters were already starting to question the trade and talking about how everyone wanted to see more from him and …
The phone in Rafe’s hands disappeared and he glanced up to see Mickey frowning at him.
“Hey! What’d you do that for?” He reached out to grab his phone back, but Mickey held it out of the way.
“You don’t need to read that shit.”
“I was?—”
“I know what you were doing.” Mickey tucked Rafe’s phone into the pocket of his shorts and crossed his arms.
Rafe frowned. “But?—”
“You’re playing well, and you’ve only been with the team a few weeks. Don’t let them get to you.”
Rafe sighed. Damn it, Mickey was right.
“Fine. Can I have my phone back though?”
“Are you going to use it to read stuff that’s going to make you worry you’re not doing enough for the team?” Mickey narrowed his eyes.
