Page 80 of Slew Foot
Rafe shifted a little, trying to find the best position.
Tanner grumbled again and Mickey settled a hand in Rafe’s hair, stroking a little. It was a light touch, but Rafe let out a breath, his shoulders softening, like someone had pulled the plug on his restlessness.
Under Rafe’s cheek, Mickey’s tense muscle softened, like he was relaxing too.
For a while, Rafe lay there, watching the screen while Mickey stroked his hair. But after a while, Rafe’s eyelids grew heavy,and he let them close. He drifted, listening to the sounds from the movie, smiling when someone on the screen said something funny or Mickey or Tanner laughed.
Mickey’s hand snagged in his hair at one point, a gentle tugging sensation that made a shiver ripple up and down Rafe’s spine. Mickey froze then started to pull away, but Rafe pushed into the touch, hoping he’d keep going, and a moment later he did.
Tanner laughed loudly at something, but Rafe’s head felt fuzzy with happy, sleepy,goodfeelings.
So he breathed in Mickey’s scent and let the soft tugs and gentle pets send him back to sleep.
Mickey awoke the next day with a sore throat. He groaned before he even opened his eyes.
Fuck.
He’d known this was coming. It was kind of inevitable at this point.
It had started with Tanner sneezing all over the apartment and blowing it off as allergies for the first few days. Since the snow was beginning to melt as the temperatures went up—offering Boston a tiny taste of spring—it had seemed perfectly likely.
Instead, he’d been germing up the place.
Once Mickey suspected it was more than allergies, he had gone through and sanitized everything, but by that point, it had probably been too late. And if it hadn’t been, getting up close and personal with Rafe while he was sick had surely done it.
Mickey still wondered if he’d taken temporary leave of his senses letting Rafe put his head in his lap. And then toencourageit. To touch him, to stroke his hair and learn Rafe did in fact like to have his hair pulled a little …
Ugh. Mickey rubbed his hands over his face at the memory.
Rafe hadmelted, all of the tension leaving his body. And while having Rafe’s head in his lap should have made Mickey tense and aroused and tightly wound, it had done the opposite.
Having Rafe close, touching him … it had relaxed Mickey too. Made him feel like everything was right in the world.
In Rafe’s sunlit bedroom, with Tanner a few feet away, laughing at the movie, it had still felt cozy and private. Like a perfect little moment between the two of them.
After the movie was over, Tanner had gotten up.
Rafe had still been asleep with his head on Mickey’s thigh, and Mickey hadn’t even tried to pull his hand away or pretend like he wasn’t dragging his fingers through Rafe’s thick dark hair.
Tanner had arched an eyebrow at Mickey, glancing between him and Rafe pointedly. Mickey had shrugged because what could he say? It was a stupid choice—for his own sanity—but at this point, that seemed to be a lost cause anyway.
Because fuck, had Tanner been right? Was Mickey in love with Rafe?
Maybe not, he thought now, rolling onto his back and stretching. But not so far off, either. Mickey had only been in love once. He’d loved Emilia, had genuinely been sad when they’d gone their separate ways.
But he’d never considered staying in Germany for her. Emilia was smart and beautiful and funny, and they were extremely compatible in the bedroom. He’d enjoyed spending time with her and had genuinely thought they could make each other happy. But he’d spent his whole life dreaming of a career in the NHL.
He hadn’t been able to imagine giving that up foranyone.
But thinking about Rafe …
It didn’t feel as clear-cut. And thankfully, Rafe would never ask him to …
Mickey froze. But what if …
Rafe was adamant he wouldn’t date a teammate. But what if Mickey wasn’t a teammate?
But what could Mickey do?
