But Hayes never knew the answer, because that was the last time Morgan ever really looked at him.
Every game for the two years after that—before Morgan retired—he didn’t talk to Hayes. Didn’t look at him. When he had no choice, he stared right through him like he didn’t exist.
Maybe he didn’t, Hayes would think. Maybe that Hayes, the one who had loved Morgan and then lost him, had never been real to begin with.
But if that was true, Hayes knew he’d have hurt a hell of a lot less.
Chapter 11
Six years later
Morgan knew he needed to relax, but if he was being honest with himself, relaxing was the last thing he was going to be doing during the next three hours.
Hyperventilating? Much more likely. And not just because Finn was in goal, either, about to warm up for his first NHL start, but because in a few minutes, Hayes was going to be right there on the ice, skating around like it was nothing, like this was just another game and Morgan wasn’t up in the stands, currently losing his goddamn mind.
“Did you tell him about the way he’s got to watch the loose puck around the net? The Pens are aggressive on that shit, and if Crosby—”
“You need to take a fucking breath,” Jacob muttered next to him.
He wouldn’t say that he and Jacob werefriendsnow. He wasn’t sure what he’d call them these days. Friendly acquaintances? Two guys who happened to both care about hisson? Two ex-hockey players both struggling with the way the game had moved on without them?
Regardless of what he called him, he and Jacob were . . .well, not athing—that was Jacob and Finn, their committed relationship a life swerve that Morgan hadnotseen coming—but some kind of odd couple.
The first time they’d sat together at an AHL game, Danny had texted him,Sitting next to Braun? You’ve officially lost what was left of your mind.
Danny still thought he was funny, and he still wasn’t.
“Fuck you,” Morgan retorted. “This is important! He needs to know this.”
You couldn’t take Crosby, even thirty-seven-year-old Crosby, lying down.
“Finn knows this,” Jacob said dryly. “I think if a puck and Sidney Crosby get near the net, he’s going to be paying attention.”
Ugh. Why had his son decidedthis guywastheguy?
It seemed like this was a Reynolds type of emotional shortcoming, because it wasn’t like Morgan had done any better picking for himself.
Not that Hayes wasn’t absolutely fucking perfect. He was. Every inch of him was stunning, inside and out. Hot as fuck. Charming. Fucking fantastic at hockey. A guy who had seemed, initially, like he’d been built with Morgan in mind. Except for one tiny, niggling detail: Morgan loved him utterly, completely, ridiculously, and Hayes had moved on.
Morgan wanted to hold it against him, but he couldn’t even managethat.
He’d been such an asshole. Such a stupid, afraid, monumentally blind asshole it was impossible to even resent the guy for kicking him out and then ignoring him for the next six years.
“It’s not that I don’t think he’s capable, right? Or that he doesn’t know how to do this, but I just . . .” Between Finn’s first start and the fact that Hayes was Finn’s captain now, Morgan was definitely losing it. Evidence for the bench: confessing these sort of emotional vulnerabilities toBraun.
“You’re just going out of your mind?” Jacob asked, the corner of his mouth tilting up, like Morgan’s pain was funny.
And maybe it was, in a sort of ironic,God-can-you-believe-cool-collected-calm-Morgan-Reynolds-is-like-this-nowkind of way.
“Don’t tell me you’re not.” Morgan had seen too many of his own fears and hopes reflected in Jacob’s eyes. He’d hate the guy more, but there was no question he genuinely cared a lot about Finn.
“Oh, I am,” Jacob said with a wry chuckle as punctuation.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” Morgan said. Which was a total lie, but it wasn’t like he could do a total one-eighty and decide that Jacob was great. At least to his face.
“That’s because you’re emoting enough for both of us right now,” Jacob joked.
Ugh, he was probably right. But then Jacob didn’t know about the Hayes half of Morgan’s current meltdown.