Page 7 of Breakaway Goals
Still, it didn’t get old to tug his jersey on, feel the fabric settle over his gear.
He went through his normal warmup routine on the ice, not hurrying, just eyeing the different groups forming around the ice—the goalies on one end, the defensive core on the other, the forwards fanning out around the middle of the rink.
Hayes was just finishing up his stretches when Morgan skated up to him. “We’re gonna run some plays,” he said. “Danny’s gonna play left wing.”
Matt Daniels—better known to everyone as Danny—had played with Hayes in the development program. He was a powerhouse center, had won the Cup last year, and had a rep for being aggressive on the ice and outrageous off it.
“Sure,” Hayes said. His style was a little more finesse than that, but if Morgan thought he and Danny could gel together, he wasn’t going to argue.
Except, they didn’t gel together at all.
“When I’m fucking calling for the puck, you gotta pass it to me, Monty,” Danny complained after he’d taken another bad shot.
Like his stomach wasn’t already crawling with shame for letting Morgan down. For taking such a shitty angle in front of him. He was better than this, heknewhe was, but Danny was pushing him, not speed wise, but too close, not letting him have the space to work he was used to, and it was throwing him off.
“Give him a break,” Morgan threw out offhandedly.
Danny made a scoffing noise. “You never give anyone a fucking break, Mo.”
“Maybeyoufucked it up,” Morgan retorted. “Let’s try it again.”
They did. Over and over again, until Hayes was dripping sweat, the exhaustion on his face mirrored on Danny’s.
“Better,” Morgan finally said. He turned to Danny. “You gotta skate as fast as Monty does, or you’re never gonna find me.”
“Good luck with that,” Hayes muttered under his breath, but it must’ve been loud enough that Danny heard, because he made a face.
“Not my fault that the next one is so fucking fast,” Danny said, wiping the perspiration off his forehead.
Hayes wanted to tell him not to call him that, that hehatedbeing called that, but he’d learned the hard way that if he hated something toneverlet anyone know, because he’d never get away from it. Hockey players were generally a good-natured group but they were also relentless.
“Don’t call him that,” Morgan snapped.
“Hey, it’s notmethat made it up,” Danny said.
“It’s bullshit. There’s nochosen one. Nonext one. We’re all just doing our fucking best.” Morgan shot Danny a hard look. “Or weshouldbe doing our fucking best.”
“Hey that’s cold, man,” Danny said, apparently unbothered by Morgan’s lecture. Hayes wished he could be that relaxed about it, but he wasn’t.
It was probably the way Morgan had been featuring in his fantasies since he was old enough to start jerking off.
Hayes didn’t know how he felt about Morgan speaking up for him. If it made him want to worship Morgan even fucking harder, or make him shy away from it, embarrassed at needing to be protected.
“Is it cold if it’s true?” Morgan asked as he picked up his water bottle, squirting some into his mouth.
“Ouch,” Hayes said.
Danny elbowed him in the side. “If I gotta skate faster, you gotta push harder into the corners. Be aggressive, Monty.”
“I can be aggressive.”
Danny’s eyebrows skated up under his visor. “When?”
“Kids,” Morgan broke in. “Let’s run it again.”
Chapter 2
Itwasariskputting Danny and Monty on his wings, but Morgan had specifically convinced Thompson to do it because he thought it could create a kind of alchemy that might work out there.
