Page 100 of Slew Foot
“Rafe …” Mickey rubbed his free hand over his face because his head was hurting more, and he was tired and he still didn’t know what the fuck was going on. “You’re worrying too much.”
“Says the guy whowatched me sleepwhile I had a fever.”
“I just …” Mickey felt helpless all of a sudden, like things were unraveling or maybe raveling, in a way he couldn’t seem to stop or get a grip on.
“I’m sorry,” Rafe whispered, rolling over and staring at the ceiling. “I know I shouldn’t be so …needyor whatever with you when we’re not even dating but?—”
“Iwantyou to be needy with me,” Mickey blurted out. “That’s the fucking problem, Rafe. I want you to need me. I want youto—” He cut himself off because he couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say everything he wanted to say.
Not because English felt clumsy on his tongue when he got emotional or even because he was afraid of scaring Rafe off.
He was quite sure he wouldn’t.
But he was worried about putting pressure on Rafe when he’d made himself clear about not wanting to date a teammate. But what he’d said earlier … the way he’d been acting lately …
Had he changed his mind?
“I wantyou,” Mickey finally whispered.
Heart beating too fast in his chest, he reached out, rubbing his thumb across Rafe’s cheek.
Rafe’s lashes fluttered closed for a moment before he opened them, turning his head and looking Mickey in the eye. Mickey’s hand ended up cradling his jaw.
“I want you too.”
“Doyou?” Mickey asked because he knew Rafe’s sexual desire was much more complicated than his own. Just because he’d gotten hard in the shower didn’t mean he actually wanted to act on it.
Rafe nodded, his swallow audible.
“Don’t—don’t do something rash because I took a hard hit tonight,” Mickey whispered. But he didn’t stop dragging the side of his thumb across Rafe’s jaw, the rasp of his stubble pleasantly abrasive.
“It’s not that. I—after the game I realized tonight I don’t want Logan back.”
Mickey squinted at Rafe’s profile. “What?”
“I don’t want Logan back. I’m kinda hurt and pissed he never apologized for acting like a dick when we broke up but I’moverit. Over him.”
“Well, that’s good,” Mickey said because he wasn’t sure what else to say. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re teammates and you don’t want to date a teammate.”
Rafe rolled over, burying his face against Mickey’s stomach. “Ugh. I think it’s too late,” he mumbled.
“Hey, look at me. What did you mean? What’s too late?” Mickey wrapped a hand around the back of Rafe’s neck and gently coaxed him to pull back.
Rafe blinked up at him. “I’m already in love with you.”
“Rafe,” Mickey whispered, stunned by the confession.
“You said you wanted me to tell you if I wanted to be with you. And I want to be with you. I want you to be my—myperson.”
“What does that mean to you?”
Rafe shrugged. “My boyfriend and my roommate and my D-partner and my friend.”
Stunned, Mickey stared at him for a few heartbeats. “That isn’t too much?”
“No.” Rafe opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but he shook his head and said, “No,” again.
“What happens if we don’t work out?”
