Page 41 of Breakaway Goals
When Hayes was dressed, he picked up his coat. Morgan was still naked, on the bed. Hayes’ eyes swept over him, like he wanted to memorize the view.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Hayes asked, and suddenly he didn’t seem reluctant but awkward.
“Come here,” Morgan said, holding out his hand and it was easier than it should’ve been to tug Hayes in, rough jeans rubbing against the bare skin of his inner thighs. Tipping his head back, he reached up and curled a hand behind Hayes’ neck, bringing their lips together.
Morgan was utter shit at words. But he could saygoodbyeandI already miss youandI wish you were stayingin a surprisingly tender kiss.
A minute later he pulled back and Hayes’ eyes were a soft, lazy green.
“Breakfast?” Morgan asked.
Hayes nodded and then, a second later, he pulled away and Morgan let him.
Let him, but curled his fist into the blankets so he wouldn’t grab him right back again.
Chapter 6
Practicefeltstandardenough—atleast standard for this tournament, in that Hayes spent ninety percent of his time helplessly rotating around Morgan and the other ten percent staring at him, wishing he was—at least until Thompson called everyone together and said with the Canada game coming up tomorrow, he wanted to practice shootouts.
It wasn’t even remotely farfetched that the US and Canada might go three periods and an overtime, before going to a shootout.
“We’ll do half with Jacob and the other half with Bram,” Thompson said.
Hayes told himself it was fine, that it wasn’t a big deal, but he couldn’t help himself. Before he could stop, he looked over at Morgan. He had a blank expression pasted on, a little rough around the edges, not looking at their coach, or at anything at all, tapping his stick against the ice like he needed to do something with his hands or he might explode.
“Hey,” Hayes said, tapping Morgan’s leg with his stick when Coach finished talking and they were setting up for the first run, Jacob skating down to one side of the rink.
Morgan glanced up at him, face still frozen. “What?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Hayes shot him a look that said without him actually vocalizing it,I don’t know, you’re kinda fucked up about Braun.
“I play against him a couple of times a year. I can handle this.”
Hayes wasn’t sure he should say to him,it doesn’t seem like you can, so he didn’t. Besides what washe, Hayes Montgomery, going to say toMorgan Reynoldsabout a shootout, even against a great goalie like Jacob?
Nothing. That was what he was going to say.
Maybe things had equalized between them a bit recently. Maybe his crush had less hero worship qualities and more just regular worship qualities, but the last thing he was going to do was be dumb enough to give Morgan a hockey lecture.
“Daniels,” Thompson called out, and Danny whooped it up, raising his stick in the air as he made lazy circles around the middle of the rink.
In the goal, Jacob had clearly locked in, assuming his position, gaze intent, as Danny grabbed a puck and began to skate towards him.
Danny wouldn’t have been on Hayes’ list of guys to use in a shootout, but he was probably a good-ish warmup for Jacob. Not a great skater or a particularly brilliant goal-scorer, but crafty, at the best of times.
“Come on,” Morgan called out, “stop fucking around. Put one in on him, Dan.”
Danny slipped to one side, but Jacob had already foreseen the move and easily blocked it.
“Oh well,” Danny retorted, shrugging as he passed Morgan, who was already locked in for his turn.
Hayes didn’t think Coach had even called his number, but clearly Morgan wasn’t waiting any longer for his crack at Braun.
Morgan was skating harder and faster than Hayes had seen him do all tournament.
