Page 50 of Breakaway Goals
He’d seen Morgan go down after Bennett’s nasty check against the boards. Had seen him barely manage to stagger to his feet, and there’d been no thinking involved.
Hayes had felt zero surprise when Morgan had gone after Bennett. Supposed he should have feltsomeastonishment when he’d dragged Morgan out of the scrum and then taken his place.
It wasn’t his normal MO. Any other time, he’d have dragged Morgan out and done the Hayes Montgomery kind of job in a fight, which was keeping their skill players out of the thick of it.
Zach had sent him about a dozen increasingly hysterical texts during the game that he had yet to respond to. Culminating in:What the absolute fuck, Monty.
Hayes still didn’t know how to parse what had happened, and even though he wanted to pretend otherwise, part of that was because he hadn’t had a second to discuss it with Morgan yet.
How he felt about it shouldn’t be reliant on howMorganfelt about it, but for the first time in a week since he’d shown up at the tournament, Hayes felt like he’d really fucked up.
This was worse than underperforming and needing a pep talk between periods.Wayworse than accidentally coming out to Morgan Reynolds when all Morgan wanted to do was gently chastise him for acting like Morgan was a god, not just another hockey player.
The complex emotions on Morgan’s face, emotions he normally kept under wraps, told at least part of the story and that was: Morgan was pretty fucking pissed.
There was no point in hiding.
He wasn’t going to be that hard to find if Morgan really wanted to find him and yell at him.
So, when Danny dragged him to the raucous celebratory dinner, he went. Sat at the opposite end of the table from Morgan and tried not to think of how Morgan might be so pissed everything that had been so good between them this week was dead now. Ashes in his mouth, dread filling every single pore as he waited for Morgan to finally corner him.
But Morgan kept not doing it. Hanging back. Hanging with Bram and Noah. Barely even meeting Hayes’ eyes when he looked over at him.
“Are you sure he’s more than just pissed?” Danny asked him when they returned to the hotel and Morgan’s group broke off to go to the bar for another drink, leaving just the two of them to wait for the elevator.
Hayes was pretty sure Danny wanted another drink too and was just standing here because he felt sorry for Hayes and how stupid he was, wanting to go to his room and sulk because he’d fucked it all up.
“No,” Hayes said, licking his lips, suddenlynotsure.
“Buddy, you done fucked up, and that’s the thing about Mo—he doesn’t like fuckups,” Danny said sympathetically.
Hayes wanted to smack him in the face, but adding another fight to his total wasn’t going to solve this problem.
“Believe me, I know,” Hayes said.
Danny patted him on the shoulder. “You see that quote making the rounds, the one he gave to the media about you?”
Hayes shook his head. He’d kept his phone in his pocket at dinner. Didn’t want to look at it. Feel like he needed to answerthe dozens of texts and messages he’d gotten about his fight and then his goal.
“You should look for it,” Danny said, patting him again as the elevator door opened. “I’m gonna go grab another beer. You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Hayes said, even though he really fucking wasn’t. Danny nodded and Hayes got on the elevator, pushing his floor button with more force than entirely necessary.
He’d had the nerve to lectureMorgan Reynoldsabout keeping a tight leash on his temper and then he’d lost his own so spectacularly, so publicly, it was a fucking wonder that wasn’t all everyone was talking about. It was why he’d taken the shot in the third instead of passing it to Morgan.
He’d wanted to distract himself. The team. The media. The coaches.Morgan.
And it had worked really fucking well, except that Hayes was sure Morgan wasn’t fooled at all. He didn’tseemfooled.
Hayes got off on the seventh floor and was halfway down the hallway to his room when he realized there was a figure standing by the door.
His steps slowed when he realized who it was, but there was no way to turn around and avoid this. Morgan had seen him. That much was obvious from his steady gaze as Hayes approached.
“Thought you went for another drink,” Hayes said after he reached the point of no return. He pulled the key card out of his pocket and toyed with it, not opening the door. If he did, he’d have to know one way or another if Morgan was coming inside, and he didn’t want to face that answer.
“Took the stairs.” Morgan huffed under his breath. And yeah, there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. What an absolute fucking lunatic. Playing a whole ass hockey game and then running up seven flights of stairs. But Hayes shouldn’t call the kettle black right now. Not when Morgan was staring at him likehe’d analyzed every one of Hayes’ molecules and found them all wanting.
“Wanted to talk to you,” Morgan continued.
