Page 32 of Breakaway Goals
“Sick shift,” Danny said, leaning in from his left.
It would be easy to say Danny was the singular reason he was forcibly prevented from obsessing about Hayes. About his eyes and his jawline and the way his sweaty hair swooped over his forehead. The way the skin above his cheekbones flushed just faintly pink when he’d met Morgan’s eyes over the breakfast buffet this morning, like he hadn’t sunk to his knees and sucked Morgan’s cock less than twelve hours earlier.
It wouldn’t be easy to forget about Hayes—not after last night, anyway—but Danny was annoying enough he’d probably make it possible.
But to Morgan’s surprise, hewasable to decently compartmentalize, separating the soft, scorching hot half-naked Hayes from hockey Hayes.
“Thanks,” Morgan said, keeping his eyes on the ice where the second line was taking the puck past their blue line towards the Finns’ goal.
He and Danny and Hayes hadn’t scored, but they’d made a good effort, two decent shots on goal, but what brought him the most optimism was the way they’d played together. Like the line was finally beginning to come together.
“Yeah, it was good. Decent rebound attempt,” Hayes agreed, leaning in. His leg was pressing against Morgan’s. It was the first time out of thousands where it made his breath catch, but he was still able to mostly push the feeling away.
Danny grimaced. “I was an inch away from getting the puck in the net.”
“You’ll get it next time,” Morgan said, patting him on the knee.
Hayes nudged him, shooting him a little grin. “You gonna give me any encouraging bullshit, Cap?”
Morgan rolled his eyes. “Not bullshit,” he claimed, “and you don’t need it. You had a great angle, that was just a pretty decent block by Saros.”
“Yeah, that bastard,” Hayes whined good-naturedly.
“Hey—” Danny only got part of the sentence out before the whole bench was erupting, Noah sinking a deep shot between the post and Saros’ left pad.
“Sick!” Danny screeched in his ear as the players shot to their feet, crowd raucous at the first goal of the game. They might be in Toronto, but no doubt they were excited to see scoring so early in the period.
Morgan sank one of his own less than a period later, and Danny finished it off with a great rebound—this one Sarosdidn’tblock—and they won handily three to zero.
Morgan almost,almost, felt bad that he didn’t have any reason to drag Hayes out to that empty hallway and chastise him.
He announced to the room, already celebrating as he walked in, “Great game, guys. Let’s keep it going. Canada in two days. That’s gonna be the championship preview.”
At 2 – 0 in the tournament so far, that was increasingly looking likely to be the case. Not that anyone was probably surprised. Sweden and Finland could play spoiler, but they were only dark horses. The favorites were, without question, the US and Canada, and after the US had taken care of business and avoided losing to a team they should have beaten, there was no question they’d be in it.
Morgan made his rounds, even stopping by the goalie end of the locker room, giving Braun a brief pat on the head. He’d shut out the Finns, which was hardly a given. They had some real firepower on that team, and he’d kept them out of the net.
That deserved, at the very least, some kind of acknowledgment, even if Morgan personally hated his guts.
“Good game,” Morgan muttered.
Acknowledgment didn’t mean he had to befriendlyabout it.
Jacob glanced up, a knowing glint in those dark brown eyes. “Thanks, Reynolds.”
“Keep it up,” Morgan said.
“Or what?”
Morgan grimaced. “Or I’m gonna light you up when we’re done with this.”
Jacob just laughed. “Oh yeah, like you normally do?”
Ugh. He really hated that guy. The one goalie in the NHL that always seemed to have his number. Admittedly, Braun had alotof other players’ numbers, too, considering how good he was.But Morgan wasn’t just anyone; if he was the best like everyone claimed he was, then he should be able to score on the best.
But points always seemed to elude him where Braun was concerned.
“Yeah, yeah,” Morgan muttered and stepped away before he said something very un-captainly.
