Page 51 of Breakaway Goals
“Yeah, no shit,” Hayes said under his breath.
Morgan shot him a chiding look. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“Amazed you didn’t unload that question hours ago,” was all Hayes could say.
“Iwantedto, but everyone got in the fucking way, and then I thought maybe it might be better to ask when I wanted to wring your neck less,” Morgan admitted. He was actually almost smiling, the corner of his lips tilting up, and Hayes felt unmoored by it.
This wasn’tfunny.
He’d admonished Morgan about fucking up their game plan, and then he’d gone in and done it with gusto. Morgan should be pissed,rightly.
“Do you?” Hayes asked.
“Do I what?”
“Want to wring my neck less?”
Morgan did laugh then, but it wasn’t as amused as Hayes thought it might be, considering he’d just almost smiled at the half-joke he’d made.
“Are we really going to do this out here in the hallway?” Morgan asked instead of answering the question.
“Maybe I want the possibility of an audience if you do wring my neck,” Hayes said.
Morgan rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he said.
It was not the “Come here,” that they’d both been using on each other up until this point, but it was enough of an echo, reminding Hayes of everything that had been so good, of all the pleasure that inevitably came after one of them said it.
He opened the door but didn’t make a move farther into the room. Like he was telling Morgan that whatever they had to say to each other in anger had to stay here, in this tiny ass hallway.
Of course, that didn’t really help that much, considering only a few days ago, Morgan had kissed him right here and pushed him back against this wall, his tongue in Hayes’ mouth.
“Better?” Hayes challenged.
“You don’t get the right to be an ass about this,” Morgan said, suddenly crowding him back against the wall, muscling him right into the same spot he’d done that first time. Arms on either side of Hayes’ head, leaning right in.
Hayes’ body reacted only because of the déjà vu. Or else that was what he told himself, mouth and thighs falling open.
Like it didn’t even matter if Morgan was pissed, Hayes wanted him anyway.
“Are you even fucking sorry?” Morgan demanded.
“I’m . . .” Hewassorry. But not that sorry. “Bennett took you down, tried to fucking take you out, and I’m supposed to apologize for being pissed about that?”
“I had it under control,” Morgan said between clenched teeth. “Idofight sometimes—”
“Unlike me. I get it.”
“We had a game plan, Montgomery, and you just went charging off it, like you were a white knight riding to my fucking rescue.” Morgan’s jaw was hard, his gaze unrelenting as he stared at Hayes.
Despite his long reputation, Hayes had always thought Morgan’s hazel eyes were warm and unexpectedly soft. But they were not warm now. They were bone hard, pinning him like a steel beam.
“I wasn’t,” Hayes argued, even though that was exactly what he’d done. Morgan had gone down, and his heart had been in histhroat, his stomach in his skates, and nothing could’ve stopped him in that moment.Nothing.
He’d have gone through the entire Canadian team to get to Morgan.
“Don’t lie to me.” Morgan pressed in harder. “You’re not here to be my fucking rescuer, you’re here to score goals, and sure you did—”
“I did,” Hayes interrupted, raising his chin. Morgan could be hard, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t meet him there. “I fucking did.”
