Page 37 of Breakaway Goals
“Not much snow in Los Angeles.” Morgan had a split second where he really thought about it; how frequently it snowed in upstate New York, where he lived. And how far away Los Angeles really was.
Morgan shoved the thought away. He didn’t like it and there wasn’t any reason to dwell on it, besides. They were together now, and who even knew how he’d feel in a week?
He was pretty sure the last time he’d slept with the same person for a week it was his ex-wife and it had been ten years ago.
“Actually, it’s kind of nice,” Hayes said and glanced over at Morgan. His eyes were shining, and it was really, unbelievably hard not to lean in and kiss him now.
He didn’t. But it was a near thing.
Instead, Morgan squeezed his far shoulder and dipped his head down, closer to where Hayes’ beanie just grazed the top of his ear. He even had an attractive ear, all soft small whorls. For a second, Morgan imagined putting his mouth there,too.
“Come on,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s go.”
“Impatient much?” Hayes teased as they walked back out into the snow.
Morgan wanted to deny it, but it was kind of hard to when it was so obvious. He wanted to get Hayes alone. Wanted to stop having to hold back.
“Aren’t you?”
“I wasn’t the one who spent half the night sulking in the booth,” Hayes said, nudging him. Honestly, he sounded delighted and between that and the use of the wordsulking,that usually would be enough to piss Morgan off.
Grown men did not sulk.
Hedid not sulk.
Nevermind that he had definitely been sulking.
“I—” Morgan started laughing. “God, you are such a brat.”
“But you like it,” Hayes said, grinning at him as they passed under a streetlight.
He wanted to denythattoo, but how could he?
“Yeah,” Morgan said in a low voice.I like you.
Finally they reached the hotel. As they walked into the lobby Hayes pulled off his beanie, shaking the snow out of it. Morgan’s fingers twitched, wanting to touch his hair, to smooth down theruffled strands, but instead he shoved his hands in his pockets as they made their way to the elevator.
When the doors opened, Hayes shot him a look, raising his eyebrow as his fingers hovered over the buttons.
Morgan tilted his head. “More guys on your floor,” he said, and Hayes nodded, pressing eight.
Morgan didn’t say that gave him a whole extra floor to slide closer to Hayes. To reach up and do exactly what he hadn’t been able to in the lobby, which was cautiously reach over and stroke the back of Hayes’ hair, smoothing the damp tufts down.
Hayes looked over at him, grinning. “You fix it?”
“Yeah.”
“Just gonna mess it up again,” Hayes teased.
“Is that wishful thinking or a specific request?”
Hayes tilted his head, clearly considering the question. “Can’t it be both?”
The elevator hit the eighth floor and the doors opened.
Hayes trailed Morgan down the hall. His room was almost all the way at one end, which was another reason Morgan had suggested it.
He dreamed about making Hayes loud. About listening to him moan. About being the source of those sounds.
