Page 7 of Slew Foot
Gavin made small talk on the way to the arena as Rafe tried to reply while holding on to his seat, hoping he didn’t die. He knew Massachusetts drivers were insane, but he didn’t even think Gavin was from here!
Wasn’t he from Pennsylvania or something?
Gavin kept his foot on the accelerator the whole time and took corners as quickly as possible while Rafe quietly feared for his life.
When they finally skidded up to the arena, sliding into a spot near the players’ entrance, Gavin grimly said, “I hope you don’t have too long of a pre-game routine.”
Rafe grinned, mostly out of sheer relief he’d arrived in one piece. “Nah, it’s not too bad,” he said as he opened his door.
After throwing his keys to a surprised-looking security guard, Gavin helped Rafe unload his belongings.
Rafe went for his sticks, skates, and gloves, while Gavin wrestled with the other two bags.
He got a whirlwind tour of the arena as they hurried down the corridors leading to the locker room.
Rafe didn’t have the heart to tell the guy he wasn’t going to remember any of it, and felt grateful when Gavin said, “We’ll do a full tour when you get your badge and everything. But this’ll have to do for now.”
“No, I appreciate it,” Rafe said, his heart racing when they approached the locker room, but whether it was from the adrenaline of the ride wearing off, the race to the locker room, his nerves, or all of those things, he wasn’t sure.
Gavin swiped his badge across the card reader next to the double doors with the Harriers’ hawk logo. “I’ll leave your luggage with the equipment manager. They have your uniform ready for you. We put you in a stall next to Mouse.”
Mouse—as Gavin had explained when they’d spoken earlier—was his new D-partner, Mickey Krause. He was a twenty-three-year-old guy from Germany who’d played in the DEL for a few years before coming over to North America.
Rafe sucked in a deep breath when the doors swung open, but he paused, turning to look at Gavin before he stepped inside. “Thanks,” he said, past the sudden thickness in his throat. “Thanks for getting me here.”
He meant a hell of a lot more than the ride from the airport. Because as scary as it was to start fresh, it felt good too. Like he could be free of all of the messy feelings he’d been dealing with in Minnesota.
He’d liked the Twin Cities, named for Minneapolis and St. Paul, which were on either side of the river. But he needed this clean slate, with a new team in a new city.
“I hope it works out for you,” Gavin said, meeting his gaze, his voice filled with sincerity. “Sometimes, we all need a fresh start.”
Rafe nodded, smiling when he realized Gavin had understood exactly what he hadn’t been able to say aloud, then stepped through the doors into the locker room.
It exploded with noise when a young guy with curly brown hair whooped out a greeting, shouting something that got lost in the noise.
His new captain, Connor O’Shea, rose to his feet, smiling, holding out a hand. “Hey! Glad you finally made it, Rafael. We’re glad to have you here.”
“Rafe,” he muttered as he shook, because it was only his grandmother who called him Rafael.
A half-dressed goalie lumbered over, and he realized it was Jesse Webber.
Rafe flinched at the reminder Jesse and Connor were dating—God, at least Logan hadn’t been hiscaptain—but Jesse was all smiles, patting him on the shoulder and tugging another guy over.
Mouse, Rafe realized.
“Rafe, this is Mickey Krause, your new D-partner,” Jesse said cheerfully, elbowing the guy forward. “But we call him Mouse.”
Rafe studied his face. Mickey had fine dark-blond hair falling over his forehead in messy little tufts, and very blue eyes. His skin was pale, but sort of golden, like he was someone who tanned easily in the summers but hadn’t actually been out in the sunshine in a while.
Of course, it was the end of December, well into the grind of the season, so that wasn’t a surprise.
“Hi, Mouse,” Rafe said automatically, holding out a hand.
“Hi.” Mouse’s voice was very soft, but his palm was rough and calloused like every other hockey player’s Rafe had encountered.
“What’s your nickname?” Jesse asked brightly. “Do you have one you want to bring in from the Acorns?”
“No,” Rafe said, although Logan had definitely called him Moon Pie.
