Page 87 of Slew Foot
Mickey stepped closer and grabbed his shoulders. “Look at me, Rafe.”
Rafe did, swallowing thickly as he looked Mickey in the eye. “What?”
“I know tonight is going to be hard,” Mickey said, and his voice was so soft and gentle it made Rafe want to walk a step or two forward until he was in Mickey’s arms and could stand there, feeling Mickey’s heartbeat against his own.
Or, maybe against his ribs, because Mickey was, like, half a foot shorter than him. But Rafe wanted to feel Mickey’s heartbeat and smell his warm, familiar scent and know he had nothing to worry about.
Not on Mickey’s watch.
Instead, Rafe nodded and stayed where he was.
“Seeing your teammates and your ex. Playing against them. I can’tdoanything about that,” Mickey continued. “As much asI wish I could. But you’re aHarriernow, Rafe. You are. You’reoursnow.”
And Rafe did lurch forward then, closing his arms around Mickey and feeling the puff of air against his neck when Mickey let out a surprisedoof.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
And maybe he wasn’t Mickey’s—and whose fault is that but my own?he thought as he brushed his lips against Mickey’s hair—but hedidbelong to this team.
His time here in Minnesota was over except at away games like this one.
And Rafe had to give this game his all because the Harriers might be a mess coming off the past few weeks of illness but they werehisand they were struggling, and it was his job to help lift them up. Give them a chance to prove how good they could be.
Gavin talked a lot about what they were growing there in Boston. What the team could be. What they could do together.
And the last thing Rafe wanted was to do something to hurt his team or his new city.
Minnesota was his past.
But Boston … Boston was his life now.
And maybe, if he was very lucky, his future.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
When Rafe hit the ice for warmups, he was surprised to get a small cheer from the crowd.
It wasn’t big or anything, just a handful of people making some noise for him. He almost chalked it up to being some sort of weird coincidence actually, but then Mickey elbowed him, grinning as he skated up beside Rafe.
“That’s gotta feel good, right?” he asked.
Rafe smiled down at him. “Yeah. It does.”
The hug from Mickey and his little pep talk earlier had helped Rafe pull it together enough to make it out on the ice for warmups and he was feeling good until he turned and caught a glimpse ofWalkerstretched across the broad shoulders of a player.
The sight made Rafe feel like someone had driven their elbow into the dead center of his chest.
“That’s him, huh?” Mickey asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Yeah,” Rafe whispered, so soft he was surprised Mickey heard him at all. “Why, are you jealous?”
He meant it as a joke, trying to channel some of Tanner’s unending confidence or something, but Mickey set his jaw. “No. He’s an idiot. If you were mine, I would never let you go.”
And oh, Rafe was all breathless and rubbing at his chest again because that wasa lot.
Mickey’s eyes widened like he’d realized what he’d said, and he opened his mouth.
Rafe spoke before he could take it back or something. “If I was yours, I wouldn’t want you to,” he said and then he skated away becauseholy shit, did I really say that?
