Page 91 of Breakaway Goals
But Jasper looked at him expectantly. “You alright?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” It was so much easier to turn the whole thing onto Jasper than to tell himno, I’m not alright.He was the captain, he couldn’t afford to not be alright.
Jasper shot him a look. “I told you, you’ve been weird and quiet. You can talk to me, you know?”
He knew it. But nobody on the team had figured out about him and Morgan yet and he wasn’t about to start telling anyone now.He couldn’t actually imagine admitting the truth to Finn, but if he was ever going to go there, Finn kind of had to be the first person to know.
“Yeah, of course,” Hayes said.
Not Jasper, even as tempting it was to blurt out in the middle of the locker room,I used to be in love with Morgan Reynolds and having him around is kind of killing me.
It would probably feel better if Jasper at least looked at him with sympathyandunderstanding, not just sympathy.
Jasper made a frustrated noise. “You don’t have to shoulder all the burdens alone, you know? I’m your A. I can be there for you. Iwantto be there for you.”
“I know, and you are,” Hayes said, patting him on the knee. “We’re good, I promise.”
It’s just me that isn’t good.
But Hayes had to believe that someday he might be able to say it—to Jasper, to any of his other teammates—and actually mean it. Maybe today had been the first day in making that possible.
Chapter 14
ItneveroccurredtoHayes that when, on the way back from a game in the Midwest, he’d texted Barty back and agreed to a late afternoon tee time the next day after practice, that Barty might feel inspired to bring guests.
Hayes tried not to gape as Barty walked up to where he was standing, golf bag in front of him, with Jacob Braun.
He liked Jacob—he’d always liked him, even when Morgan had hated him, probablyespeciallybecause Morgan hated him—and he’d gotten a chance to know him in the last two months as more than just the Vezina-winning goalie he’d been and more as Jacob, Finn’s boyfriend. That had been cool.
What was probably not cool was that it seemed inevitable that a half a step or two behind the pair of them, Morgan was probably lurking somewhere.
Could he not even golf in fucking peace?
“Hey,” Hayes said, as Barty pulled him into his signature half-handshake, half-hug. That done, Hayes turned towards Jacob and offered him a quick handshake. “Barty, you didn’t tell meyou were bringing a friend.” He paused. Tried to be subtle about how he was craning his neck around Jacob’s bulk, attempting to figure out if Morgan was around without having to flat-out ask. “Friends?”
Jacob had the nerve to laugh. Did he know? Hayes didn’t think there was any way he did, becauseFinnclearly didn’t know. “Don’t worry, I didn’t bring any Reynolds with me,” he said.
“Nope, you insisted that you didn’t want their help,” Barty said, sounding smugger than Hayes would expect, considering how their last conversation about Morgan had gone.
“I don’t,” Hayes said firmly.
“Our cart’s over here. They were just getting it stocked up,” Barty said, gesturing over to where, no big surprise, there was a golf cart with a cooler strapped to the back, taking up half of the rear seat. He strode over and talked to the attendant, glancing in the cooler and peeling off a few bills from his clip as a tip for the guy after he’d finished loading their bags.
“So,” Jacob said, gaze opaque behind his sunglasses, but Hayes swore there was a knowing edge to his voice.
There was no way he could know the truth, but it seemed that somehow, impossibly, he knewsomething.
“So,” Hayes parroted back. He should be working harder at being friendly. Jacob was a good guy and one of his rookies’ partners. They’d played each other a number of times. Thisshouldbe easier, but faced with a guy who, if all things had gone radically different, would’ve ended up as an in-law of sorts, Hayes couldn’t seem to dredge up even the most basic of small talk.
Jacob raised an eyebrow. “You any good?” he asked, gesturing towards the flawless emerald green course spreading out in front of them.
“Not really,” Hayes admitted. “I only said yes because if I said no, Barty would harass me into doing something worse.”
“I’m pretty good these days.” Jacob’s expression did something complicated. “Got more time on my hands to practice and walking the course tends to keep my hip pretty loose.”
Barty, finished with the attendant and climbing into the cart’s driver’s seat, beckoned them on. It was kind of a tight fit, but he and Jacob were both hockey players. They were used to close quarters.
“I didn’t know Barty was your agent, too,” Hayes said, still trying to dredge up another topic of conversation. They’d covered their golf skills and skipped the weather—it was Florida and even though it was November it was still way too fucking hot.
