Page 125 of Breakaway Goals
Jacob laughed, the asshole.
“Hey,” Morgan said, clutching at straws, “you should go order us some mozzarella sticks. And um, a basket of fries.”
Jacob looked at him like he’d just grown a second head. “You don’t eat that shit. And you definitely don’t eat that shithere.”
“I’m hungry,” Morgan lied unconvincingly. “Didn’t eat enough at the game.”
Shaking his head, for a second Jacob didn’t move and Morgan was pretty sure he was going to be forced into grabbing Danny’s arm and dragging him to the bathroom like they were two girls needing to check their lip gloss.
But then he groaned and lifted himself up. “Maybe you are human after all, Reynolds,” Jacob said and then wandered back over towards the bartender.
“Quick,” Morgan said under his breath. “I wanted to tell you something.”
“Yeah, ’cause I can’t imagine you actually want to eat the food here. What is it?”
“Jacob doesn’t know, because Finn doesn’t know yet.” Morgan took a deep breath. Then told himself to get on with it. Jacob wasn’t going to be ordering for that long. “Hayes and I are dating.”
Morgan was expecting some low-level shocked surprise. Or maybe a snarky comment about how Morgan had finally gotten his shit together.
Danny just gave him a lazy once-over. “And?”
“And?And?” It was hard not to be butt hurt that was all the reaction his pronouncement had gotten him.
“Did you really think you were going to end up here in Florida in his proximity andnotwin him back? You did grovel, right?”
Morgan clenched his teeth and then forced himself to relax. This was a good thing. Crap from Danny meant that all was right with the world. “You say grovel like it was a one-time-only occurrence, but really, it’s more like a frame of mind.”
Something that looked suspiciously like pride and approval crossed Danny’s face. “You really got your shit together, didn’t you?”
“Trying,” Morgan admitted. “It’s still pretty new. But um . . .it’s good.”
“You’re happy? Youlookhappy,” Danny said. “I wondered if something had happened, because you seem . . .lighter. For you, anyway.”
Morgan couldn’t remember the last time he’d considered—seriously or otherwise—if he was happy. He couldn’t say it didn’t matter because he wasn’t dumb enough to think otherwise, but he’d been on the same path, one foot in front of the other, for so long he’d never really thought about how the path made him feel.
Except maybe one time: six years before when he’d lain next to Hayes in bed and thought,if only I could do this every night for the rest of my life.
The answer back then was he couldn’t.
He could now.
“Yeah, I think . . .I think I am.”
“You think you’re what?” Jacob settled back down in the booth.
“Uh, happy here. In Tampa,” Morgan said, trying not to stammer over it.
Jacob tilted his head, thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, I can see it. Maybe if you were less alone, though.”
“You and Finn are both obsessed with my singleness,” Morgan argued lightly, sending Danny a strong message with his eyes that if he knew what was good for him, he wasnotgoing to break and declare that Morgan was very much not single anymore.
“For good reason,” Jacob muttered.
“You’ll find someone,” Danny said, his knee nudging Morgan’s under the table.
“Maybe if you ever get over yourself,” Jacob said, reaching over and patting him on the arm. “And if you’re willing to bend and eat fried food more than once every decade.”
“I’m not that bad,” Morgan argued.
