Page 100 of Breakaway Goals
Hayes wet his bottom lip. Just a flicker of his pink tongue, and it made Morgan hot all over.
He wished that he could remember even a line from the groveling speech he’d planned, but all coherent thought was wiped clean from his brain with just that glimpse of Hayes’tongue. Besides, he wasn’t going to be able to deliver any of it here. Not right now, anyway.
“You used to be more contrary,” Hayes observed neutrally.
“I know,” Morgan said.
He’d been kind of an asshole most of his career—most of his life, honestly. But this was part oftrying. To keep to the sideline. To the back of the suite. To not waltz into the locker room like he still owned hockey. He was mostly doing it for Finn. But also for Hayes.
Hayes didn’t deserve to be overshadowed on his own goddamn team.
“It’s weird.” Hayes’ nose crinkled, adorably. “I don’t know if I like it.”
“Oh.” Clearly Hayes didn’t see it as Morgan proving his loyalty. His affection. His endless fucking love. But in so many ways, that was what it was.
Fucking figures.
Before Morgan could correct him, Lars and a petite blond woman Morgan recognized from seeing her around the facility walked in, carrying boxes. “Hey, guys,” Emily called out, “a little help, please?”
And there was no question she was in charge, because half the team leaped up, filing out the front door to help her bring more boxes of booze in.
“Guess it’s good we’ve got an off day tomorrow,” Hayes said, shrugging. He met Morgan’s eyes and then he looked away.
Hayes was in heaven and in hell.
Morgan was here. In his house.
In his house.
Drinking his beer. Eating pizza he’d bought.
Chatting with Jasper and Lars and Em, with Finn and Silov, rotating around to several of the groups of players. Laughing with them. Not being Morgan Reynolds, the chosen one, but someone else.
Someone Hayes wasn’t sure he quite recognized anymore.
Hayes tried to distract himself. Did his usual captain routine. Made sure when he did his own rounds, he went the opposite direction of Morgan. Always kept at least one group in between them at all times.
He wasn’t going to make the same mistake of the bar bathroom. When he did have to pee, several beers and a tequila shot in, he retreated to his suite, going to the bathroom and splashing cold water on his face, giving himself a pep talk in the mirror.
It didn’t really work. He still felt flushed. Partly from the booze, sure, but also because it felt like Morgan was slotting into his life, into this team, gently and insistently, like he was meant to be there.
They’d agreed that they’d do what they needed for Finn.
But this didn’t feel like it was for Finn. Not when every few minutes, Hayes would feel a particular burning between his shoulder blades, and when he’d look back, his gaze would intercept Morgan’s.
It felt too much like it had been in Toronto.
Like they were both just biding their time before they got to be alone again, finally.
This night isn’t ending that way, though.
Except that Hayes was pretty sure he was the only one who’d gotten that memo.
Because he looked up, a few hours into the party, and realized that Morgan was one of the few guys left.
Lars and Emily had just taken off, to relieve their babysitter.
Jasper had left five minutes earlier with a contingent of the younger guys, including Finn and Silov, to go to some hot new club in town. Hayes had been pretty sure that Morgan left then, too, not to go clubbing, but back to his house. Alone. Thank goodness.
