Page 65 of Slew Foot
He shivered at the thought and Rafe frowned, pulling away.
“Now I’m makingyoucold,” Rafe said. “Let’s get whatever you need at the store and head home.”
Home, Mickey thought as he got out of the car. Not the apartment. Because fuck, Rafe lived there too now.
Mickey wassoscrewed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Rafe followed Mickey through the grocery store, not quite sure why they were here.Maybe we’re low on food?Rafe thought as he grabbed a carton of milk. Rafe should be used to the cartons by now but his family had always bought bagged milk.
He’d been so confused when he moved to North Carolina and no one there had evenheardof it.
Some convenience stores in Minnesota had carried it, which had been nice. It wasn’t looking good for Boston though.
Rafe was surprised when Mickey stopped in the aisle with coffee and tea, until Mickey gestured to the hot cocoa. “Do you drink hot cocoa or hot chocolate?”
Rafe frowned. “There’s a difference?”
“Hot cocoa is this.” Mickey picked up a box and shook it. “The powdered stuff you mix in milk. In Germany, it’s mostly for kids.”
“So what’s hot chocolate then?” Rafe had always thought they were the same thing.
“Melted bars of chocolate in milk.”
“Oh. Uhh, I’m fine with either.” Rafe shrugged.
“Make a choice,” Mickey said sternly but he was smiling.
“Which do you like?” Rafe asked, unable to stop himself from smiling back. Something about Mickey made him happy.
“Hot chocolate,” Mickey said without hesitation. “It’s less sweet.”
“Then hot chocolate.”
Mickey shot Rafe a look he couldn’t read before he turned to marshmallows. “These or whipped cream?”
“You like whipped cream best?” Rafe asked. It wasn’t usually as sweet so it seemed like a safe guess.
Mickey nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Then that.”
“Chocolate syrup or caramel?”
“Umm.” Tough choice. Because he wanted Mickey to have what he liked but Rafe really did love caramel …
Mickey plucked both from the shelf and placed them in the basket.
“Okay then,” Rafe said happily.
Twenty minutes later, they stood in the kitchen while Rafe watched as Mickey chopped chocolate into little chunks with abig knife. His hands moved fast, and he was so neat about it and it kinda reminded Rafe of what he was like on the ice.
Silky smooth hands and a fast mind, like Mickey was always a couple of plays ahead of the rest of them.
The chocolate looked good though, dark and rich, and Rafe reached out to snag a little piece of it. Mickey smacked his hand.
“No. You’ll get your fingers cut.” His voice was stern, and so was his jaw, so Rafe pulled back.
