Page 70 of Slew Foot
Mickey felt like he hadn’t slept at all when he finally dragged himself out of bed the following morning.
When he opened his door in search of coffee, he found Rafe standing in the kitchen, shirtless, posing with a mug of coffee while Tanner took pictures.
Mickey nearly turned around and went straight back to bed, right then and there.
But they had practice today and it definitely wasn’t an optional one and Mickey had already dragged out leaving his room as long as possible. Plus, he needed to clean the kitchen after his tantrum last night.
And ithadbeen a tantrum.
In the cold morning light, Mickey could see he’d actedhorriblyimmature. He was going to have to apologize to Rafe and Tanner for his behavior.
He’d always been so cool and calm and rational. But that had all gone out the window upon meeting Rafael Fucking Moon.
None of it was Rafe’s fault. This was allll on Mickey.
“Hey!” Tanner said, lowering the phone to sneeze.
“Eww, cover your mouth,” Mickey said automatically, before he realized that probably wasn’t the best way to start this conversation.
But it appeared to bounce right off Tanner, who passed the phone over to Rafe with a shrug. “Did you know Rafe here has a total thirst trap account on Insta?”
“I’m not on social media much,” Mickey responded. Which was true, but the time hehadspent on it recently had involved staring at the exact pictures Tanner was talking about. He was not about to admit that aloud, however.
“Boring,” Tanner said with a roll of his eyes. “So, like, you want to see the ones I took this morning?”
“No thank you,” Mickey said politely because it was either that or sport an awkward and uncomfortable erection in the kitchen. “We need to get to the rink, and I need coffee first.”
“It’s right there,” Rafe said quietly, nodding at a Harriers travel mug. “I fixed it the way you like it.”
“Thanks,” Mickey said. “Look?—”
He paused when he realized the counter was clean. There were no dishes sitting out, no cutting board or knife or pan from when he’d made hot chocolate. “Did you guysclean?”
“Yeah,” Tanner said, sneezing again. “Rafe said we should.”
Tanner pulled open the dishwasher with a proud grin. It was an unholy mess and looked like a raccoon on cocaine had loaded it. But the dishes were more or less clean and so were the counters and Mickey felt unexpectedly emotional about it.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
“Kinda seemed like you were having a bad day,” Tanner said carefully, like he was afraid Mickey might explode again.
“No, it was a good day,” Mickey said, because it had been, up until he’d lost his fucking mind watching Rafe do obscene things to a whisk with his tongue. “I, uh …”
He deflated, finally glancing up from the dishwasher. “I’m sorry I lost my temper.”
Tanner shrugged. “You should’ve seen me when we lost in Concord last year.”
“Didn’t the team lose a lot?” Mickey asked with a frown.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
Tanner grinned. “So, no worries. Your hot chocolate is kind of crap though. Did you know that? I stole a sip of Rafe’s before he wrestled it away from me.”
“What?” Mickey sputtered.
Rafe, who had been standing there quietly and looking devastatingly good in his low-slung sweatpants, said, “It is not!” so hotly Mickey and Tanner both turned to look at him.
