Page 95 of Slew Foot
“Concussion results wereinconclusive.” Dr. Pope said, shooting Mickey a little look. “We’re going to keep an eye out for symptoms the next few days, however.”
“You feel okay right now though?” Rafe asked, staring straight at him.
“Yes. I just want everyone to stop making a big deal out of this,” Mickey said, aware he sounded annoyed but seriously, this was getting ridiculous. He didn’t need to be fussed over.
“How would you feel if this was happening tome?” Rafe shot back.
Mickey deflated a little. He’d definitely be all over Rafe about it if he’d been the one who’d taken a hit like that. But before he could admit it, Rafe turned to look at Dr. Pope.
“Should someone keep an eye on him tonight?”
“It wouldn’t hurt,” Dr. Pope said with a nod.
“Not it!” Tanner called out cheerfully.
Connor and Rafe both shot him a dirty look.
“What?” Tanner protested.
“You’re hisroommate,” Connor pointed out drily. “At homeandon the road. If anyone should do it, it’s you.”
“Yeah, but thenhe”—Tanner jerked his thumb at Rafe—“will be in there too. Besides, I had, uh, plans tonight.”
He looked a little shifty by the end, and Dr. Pope raised an eyebrow and muttered something about communicable diseases.
“It’s fine. Mickey can stay in my room tonight,” Rafe said.
“I can?” Mickey asked, blinking. On the one hand, he was glad Rafe had interrupted before Tanner could get into a dumb argument with their captain.
On the other hand, was itreallynecessary to spend the night with Rafe? Or wise, for that matter? Mickey still couldn’t believe Rafe had come out onto the ice to check on him. He wassogoing to get a chewing out from the coaching staff. And probably Connor.
Mickey was refusing to think about how much trouble he himself was going to be in.
“Yes,” Rafe said, his jaw taking on a stubborn tilt as he looked at Mickey. “Youcanstay with me. You watched over me when I was sick. Now I’ll watch over you.”
“It isn’t the same,” Mickey protested.
“It’s close enough,” Rafe said.
Mickey looked up at him and thought about how worried Rafe had looked, kneeling over him as he lay on the ice trying to catch his breath, and nodded.
“Yeah, okay.”
Maybe itwastime they talked again. Because they couldn’t keep going on like this or it was going to impact the team even worse than it already had.
“Are yousureyou’re okay?” Rafe asked, frowning at Mickey as soon as they were in Rafe’s hotel room and the door closed behind them.
“I’m fine. Stopfussing.” Rafe had even carried Mickey’s bag down the hall after they grabbed it from the room he shared with Tanner. It was sort of sweet and chivalrous, but completely unnecessary.
“Then why do you keep rubbing your head?” Rafe asked, setting Mickey’s bag on the floor.
Mickey dropped his hand and peeled his suit jacket off, hanging it in the closet before he took a seat on the bed. “It’snothing.”
“Do you have a headache?” Rafe asked. He was actuallypacingnow, staring at Mickey with a worried frown.
“Just a little one,” Mickey admitted, pulling his tie off. It had been bugging him since the plane ride. He’d taken something for it then, but it was back. Probably mostly his sinuses being unhappy about the dry plane air and changes in altitude.
“Did you tell Dr. Pope about it?” Rafe asked, making another lap.
