Page 62 of Slew Foot
“You know, I kinda wish I had gone with you guys to Mexico,” Rafe finally said with a little frown as their meal wrapped up, picking at some of the sweet potato fries on his plate. He’d devoured his salmon burger in record time, but the mound of fries had been so big they’d actually slowed him down.
Mickey poked at the remnants of his seafood paella as he thought about Rafe’s words. The paella had been good—not as good as the ones he’d had in Spain, which he belatedly realized sounded pretentious—but good.
The food wasn’t the problem though. It was how to word his answer. Because as much as he would have loved for Rafe to join them on vacation, it would have been torture.
Rafe would’ve been wandering around wearing nothing but swim shorts, getting all bronzed and wet and needing someone to rub sunscreen on him and …
Mickey cleared his throat. “There’s always next year.”
“True.” Rafe still had a smear of fry sauce on his lower lip.
“You’ve got a little—” Mickey gestured vaguely to his own mouth.
“Oh thanks.” Rafe licked his lips.
Mickey shifted in his seat at the thought of Rafe licking up his cum as it dripped from his lips.
Rafe continued, “So, I know I keep thanking you?—”
“And I keep telling you that you don’t have to,” Mickey fired back, distracted and horny and desperate feeling.
“But thank you. For like … being a really good friend to me.” That earnest look was back in Rafe’s eyes and Mickey was doomed.
Mickey hid a wince. He wanted to say he’d be that kind of friend to anyone but it wasn’t entirely true, was it?
He’dtriedto get to know Ben Estrada and the other call-ups in the locker room or when they were at practice or working out, but lately Mickey’s focus had mostly been on Rafe— “Hey,” he said, leaning forward as a thought occurred to him. “You and Ben came to the team at the same time, right? I mean, he got called up from our AHL affiliate in Concord to fill in for losing Bobby Tucker when you came in the trade, yeah? I’m surprised the two of you aren’t closer friends.”
Not that he wanted to pawn Rafe off on someone else, but it was surprising.
Rafe shrugged. “He’s a forward and …”
Mickey nodded. It was true, the forwards often hung out together and the D-corps tended to be pretty tight, while the goalies were off doing their weird little goalie things together.
Not clique-y, exactly. Though it could be on some teams. And maybe it had been like that in Minnesota.
“Makes sense,” Mickey agreed.
“Do you think I should try to hang out with him more? What if he’s lonely?” Rafe looked worried now.
“I mean, it couldn’t hurt,” Mickey said with a shrug. “But he seems like he’s getting along pretty well with Anker and stuff.”
“True.”
“Hey, what do you know about the new guy? Tom Bass?” Mickey asked. Gavin had made a big, splashy trade over bye week and they were all excited to see what came of it.
“Oh!” Smiling, Rafe stirred his drink with a straw, making the ice clink. “He’s a good guy. We played together in Carolina for a hot minute.”
“I wondered,” Mickey said. “When I saw he’d played there around the same time you did.”
“Yeah, I was psyched when I saw the news about him coming here. He’s an all-around good dude. His wife is great too. They weren’t married when we played together but she was the bomb. Really fun and friendly. Oh! And she’s bi so they’ll be cool with the …” He waved vaguely and Mickey took that to mean the number of non-straight guys on the team.
Mickey sat back, relaxing against the booth cushion. “He’sgoodtoo.”
“I know, right?” Rafe brightened. He did that a lot, his whole face lighting up with a giant smile that made Mickey want to melt.
Which was the scary part about this. Mickey wasn’t only attracted to Rafe. His sexual appeal was undeniable, but it was the soft feelings which worried Mickey the most.
“It’ll be a good addition to our offense,” Mickey said.
