Page 85 of Breakaway Goals
The Sentinels were on a three game road trip, and both of them were going out of their mind with the inherent boredom of not even having the distraction of Finn and Finn’s schedule to keep them occupied.
Thus, drinking at this shitty ass bar.
“I am not,” Morgan retorted.
Jacob was like his son. Way too intuitive for his own good. All those fucking mysterious goalie powers. At least Finn seemed to be using his for actual goalie-ing. Jacob didn’t have any good hockey reasons to use them anymore, so now he wasjust deploying them willy-nilly on people who he claimed were friends.
Like Morgan.
Morgan considered telling him he didn’t want to be goalie-ed, but that would give Jacob too much proof that he was right, and that was no good, either.
“You forget I know you,” Jacob said, putting his beer down with a click on the stained bar top. “You’re normally edgy as hell, like you don’t even know how to turn it off, but ever since we got to Florida, you’ve been even more of a fucking mess.”
“Lie,” Morgan declared, hoping that the single word encompassed his disdain for all the accusations Jacob had just made.
“Finn even mentioned it the other day,” Jacob said casually, but there was a knowing glint to his eyes that Morgan didn’t like.
“Finn should be focusing on what’s important right now. Not me.”
“I’m just saying, if he noticed it, even with everything he has going on . . .” Jacob trailed off, shooting Morgan another meaningful look. “And then there’s the way you looked when we were out with the team for Finn’s first win.”
“I didn’t look like anything.” But Morgan knew what he’d looked like. What he’dfeltlike. There’d been no hope of keeping that much feeling off his face. He was a hockey player, not a fucking robot.
“I have a theory,” Jacob said.
“Oh, that’s fucking great,” Morgan muttered. Desperately trying to figure out how to play this. They’d only been here for fifteen minutes. It would look guilty as hell if he demanded the check from the bartender and scurried off, no matter what excuse he gave. The only way forward was to just to brazen it out and tell Jacob that he was full of shit. That wasn’t that different than normal for them, so maybe it would work.
“I think your guy—your hockey player—is on the Sentinels, and it’s making you weirder than normal.”
Morgan had been very afraid that Jacob was going to say that, and now that it had happened, there was nothing else to do butdeny, deny, deny.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said primly, draining his beer and waving his hand at the bartender for another round.
“You sure do,” Jacob said, leaning in. “And we can even talk about it. Weshouldtalk about it.”
“Oh, thank you. So generous,” Morgan retorted.
“It’s true then?” Jacob prodded.
Morgan barked out a laugh. Not feeling very amused, but trying to play it off that way. “I don’t know what you think you’ve noticed—”
“Morgan,” Jacob said seriously. “You came back to the table a week ago like you’d just seen a ghost. Who is it?”
Like he was going to tellJacobany of it. First off, he’d immediately go tell Finn, no question. The fact that Jacob hadn’t already told Finn what he knew was a fucking miracle. Second off, it was too humiliating to confess. Especially to Jacob of all people.
Especially after he’d given Jacob so much shit for dating Finn.
“Even you wouldn’t be stupid enough to pine after Hayes Montgomery, so it can’t be him,” Jacob continued when Morgan didn’t answer.
Oh, that was fucking hilarious. Jacob Braun, missing his calling as a stand-up comedian.
“Stupid,” Morgan echoed numbly. “You’re writing fanfiction now, and I don’t like it. You’re like one of those shippers on Twitter or whatever the fuck it’s called now.”
“Yousaid there was a guy and it ended badly.”
He had. And he’d never regretted that more than he did right now.
“That was a weak moment.”
