Breakaway Goals, page 28
“I’m just being honest.” Morgan lifted their hands and pressed a kiss to Hayes’ knuckles. “You ready for dessert?”
“Dessert?” Hayes perked up, then schooled his expression into something more serious. “I shouldn’t, though, it’s not on the meal plan . . .”
“Don’t worry about that. I ordered something special, in advance.”
Hayes looked floored, again. “You did?” he asked incredulously.
“Angel, I keep telling you—you can’t be surprised when I spoil you. You deserve spoiling.”
From the way Hayes’ mouth tilted up in a warm smile, Morgan hoped that he was starting to believe it.
The waiter brought the dessert, a dark chocolate mousse, fruit scattered across its glossy surface, and two spoons.
Morgan had patted himself on the back for thinking in advance of a dessert that Hayes could enjoy without guilt. What he hadn’t anticipated was how painful it was going to be watching Hayes lick chocolate mousse off a spoon, knowing that when he dropped Hayes off at his house, he was only allowing himself one goodbye kiss.
“You alright?” Hayes asked in a teasing voice as Morgan settled the check.
The brat knew exactly what he’d been doing to Morgan, and he was enjoying it.
Morgan huffed out a breath, reminding himself that, if he did things right, if he was good and thoughtful, he would get to have sex with Hayes Montgomery for the rest of his life.
When he thought about it like that, it was easy enough to swallow hard, put his lust away, and lead Hayes away from their table, their hands intertwined together.
There’d been a second where Hayes nearly dropped his, but Morgan had hung on, shooting him a look.
Hayes shrugged, like, if you insist, and yes, yes, Morgan insisted.
By the time they made it back to Hayes’ house, Morgan’s palms were sweating. The nerves were back. He’d kissed Hayes plenty. But he’d never imagined that a kiss would have to be A Kiss, enough to make Hayes want more.
Enough to make Hayes want to do this again.
To give Morgan another chance and another and another.
He pulled into Hayes’ driveway. Hayes shot him a little coy glance. “You wanna come in?”
Oh, he wanted to. But he knew if he did, there was no way he was stopping at a single kiss.
“I . . .uh . . .I probably shouldn’t.”
Hayes laughed softly but didn’t move. Okay, they were doing this. Morgan psyched himself up, unbuckling his seat belt and walking all the way around the car to open the passenger door.
Of course opening Hayes’ door for him and reaching out with a hand to help him up only made him think a whole bunch of inappropriate caveman thoughts.
Then Hayes glanced up at him, affection and desire in his green eyes, and the thoughts screamed insistently.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have any keys to twirl,” Hayes said in a low conspiratorial voice as they reached his front door. “Do you think—
Morgan didn’t let him finish. Tugged him in by his arm and kissed him.
Hayes’ mouth was hot and sweet on his, the remnants of chocolate on his tongue, and Morgan groaned at the back of his throat as he backed them into the door.
He’d told himself he’d get one really good kiss, and maybe if he just kept kissing Hayes, if one kiss just spun out and out and out, it would still count as only one.
Hayes’ fingers dug into his shoulders, one hand slipping up to the back of his head, tangling in Morgan’s hair and holding him in place.
Made it easy to think they were on the same page.
But sooner than Morgan wanted, Hayes tilted his face away and broke the kiss. Morgan was addicted to how breathless he sounded and the way his pupils swallowed all the green in his eyes. The unmistakable press of his hard dick against Morgan’s thigh.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” Hayes asked.
“No,” Morgan said, laughing. “But I really shouldn’t. You know it, too.”
“It was your idea,” Hayes protested, chuckling too.
“Yeah, but I was right. We . . .we can do the sex thing. Really, really well. No issues on that front. The rest of this . . .” Just because tonight had gone well didn’t mean all their dates would go like this. Morgan wasn’t naive enough to believe that was true.
“Zach made me promise that I wouldn’t freak out if tonight didn’t go well, but . . .” Hayes smiled up at him. “I shouldn’t have worried. You spoiled me. Made me feel special.”
“Just doing what I should’ve done six years ago,” Morgan said self-consciously, the honesty flaying him open. He wasn’t good at it, but he was trying.
“I like to think of it as we’re starting over,” Hayes said. “What do you think?”
Morgan considered this. Also considered if he could get away with kissing Hayes a second time.
“I like that,” he agreed.
Hayes patted him on the cheek. “Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Morgan said earnestly. He knew exactly how much he had to make up for. He never wanted Hayes to look at him with that cold, dead-eyed stare ever again.
“Give me one more kiss,” Hayes said, batting his eyelashes and grinning.
“I—”
“I know,” Hayes said. “But bend your rules for me, baby.”
Like Morgan was ever going to be able to resist that. He leaned in and kissed Hayes again.
When they finally broke apart a second time, the leash on his self-control was tenuous and he already knew he was going to be tasting Hayes on his tongue for the rest of the night—and he wasn’t even bent out of shape about it.
“Well,” Hayes said breathlessly. “Goodnight.”
“I’ll call you,” Morgan promised.
“I know,” Hayes said and slipped through the door before they could throw the whole goddamn rulebook out the window.
Chapter 19
Hayes wasn’t all that surprised that during warmups against the Bandits, Matt Daniels skated over, just crossing the blue line to nudge up right next to him.
“Hey, Monty,” Danny said. “How’s it hanging?”
“Danny,” Hayes said, nodding at his ex-teammate. “Going pretty good. Better than you, at any rate.”
Danny grimaced. “Better not let Mo hear you say that. I know he’s wearing a Sentinels jersey these days, but he’ll always be a Bandit at heart.”
“Oh he knows,” Hayes said lightly, smiling probably a hair too brightly to be playing it cool, but it was unclear if he was supposed to. He’d heard, through the rumor mill and from Danny himself, twice a year, that he and Morgan had stayed in contact. It was highly possible that Danny knew everything that had gone down in the last week.
But he and Morgan hadn’t discussed who exactly they were telling. Obviously the top of the list had to be Finn—and not just because he was Morgan’s son, but because Hayes was his captain, and he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize this team.
“He told you?” Danny looked astonished, which for such a chaos gremlin was saying something.
Okay, so Danny didn’t know. That was interesting, though not very surprising, because Morgan had told him that he was going out with Danny tonight after the game to “catch up.” Maybe he was waiting to tell Danny until then.
“We do speak,” Hayes teased, unable to help himself. And he was rewarded when Danny’s jaw literally dropped open.
“Seriously?”
Hayes just shrugged, gaze back to his side of the ice, scanning the group as they finished their warmups. “He is around a lot.”
“Yeah, but I thought you two were in the middle of the world’s coldest war,” Danny spluttered.
Hayes shot him an amused look. “Couldn’t stay ice-cold forever,” he said, skating off before Danny could demand to know exactly what that meant.
Finn was in goal tonight, and that meant that Morgan was up in his usual suite, Jacob next to him. Hayes couldn’t see him, but he knew they were there. Knew Morgan was there, his gaze prickling on his shoulder blades as he took the first faceoff.
The Bandits were not very good this year, but they always fought hard, regardless, and Hayes had no intention of resting back. They had a win streak on the line, and that mattered the most, of course, but there was also his own personal stats, which Barty kept telling him would change the Sentinels’ minds about the contract.
Lars, his right wing, had gotten the puck, and they pushed into the Bandits’ side of the ice, Lars passing the puck to Hayes, who took it behind the goal. Danny’s hit was mis-timed though, and he took off, unscathed, looking for a shooting lane.
He passed it back to Curtis, one of their starting defensemen, and skated up closer to the net, brain alert as it scrolled through what he knew about the Bandits’ goalie. He was good low, but shit high. Middling on the rebound.
Lars knew it too, because he slid over, closer to the other side, obviously getting ready to slide the puck behind the goalie’s backside if he got a chance at the rebound.
A second later, the play materialized.
Curtis passed back to Hayes, who took the shot, knowing it was probably going to bounce off his kneepad, and sure enough, it did.
The puck hit Lars’ tape and then it was in the net.
Hayes hit Lars’ side, patting him on the helmet with a glove as they celebrated the goal.
Swore he still felt Morgan’s gaze burning into him even after he was off the ice, sliding down the bench.
Wouldn’t even be surprised if when he got to the locker room during the first intermission and looked at his phone, Morgan would’ve been unable to resist sending a text about that play.
It was the kind of classic misdirection that Morgan loved more than anything else, the sort of move he’d made his bread and butter as he’d gotten older and wasn’t the fastest or the strongest guy out there any longer.
But he’d always been the smartest, and his brain had only gotten sharper as he’d grown older.
Hayes hoped that he could do the same. Hoped that the Sentinels could see it, too.
At thirty-one, he didn’t want to start over. He wanted to stay with this team and continue building.
Hayes pushed the thought away and re-focused on the game. What mattered was this team and what Hayes could do for them right now.
Not in a year. Not in two years or four or five from now.
“Sick fucking play,” Morgan enthused. He was probably not being very subtle, but he had a feeling it was only a matter of time—probably not weeks, but days—before Hayes sat him down and told him that Finn, and by extension, Jacob, needed to know about them.
Jacob looked over at him, a knowing glint in his eyes. “It sure was. Reminds me of someone—”
“Me,” Morgan crowed, “totally me. That was a classic Morgan Reynolds play.”
“And you wonder why people say you’re insufferable.”
“I think I even got that one by you a few times,” Morgan said, even though if he’d managed it once, he’d have been shocked.
“You really think that?” Jacob asked, leaning his elbows against the front wall of the suite.
“Well, maybe once,” Morgan blustered.
“I’d never fall for that,” Jacob said. “You see the way Monty angled the puck when he shot it? If the goalie was paying attention, he’d have seen that Monty was practically aiming for the pad. Not to score, but for Lars to get the rebound.”
“Still a great play,” Morgan grumbled.
“Finn and I should work on that this week,” Jacob mused. He turned to Morgan. “You meeting up with Danny after the game?”
Morgan nodded. Over the last few days, he’d gone back and forth on what he was going to say to his friend, but if he was being really honest with himself, there was no way he was going to hang out with Danny tonight and not tell him what was going on with Hayes.
“You mind me tagging along?” Jacob asked. “Finn and the team are flying out to Raleigh tonight, right after the game.”
Morgan knew that, because Hayes had told him, but he couldn’t tell Braun that.
He also really wanted to tell Braun hell no, and that he could fuck off. Eighteen months ago, he could’ve. But that had all changed after Finn and Jacob had gotten together. And since he and Morgan had buried the hatchet.
It was a perfectly normal request, but if Jacob came, then Morgan couldn’t tell Danny about what was going on with Hayes.
“Uh,” Morgan hesitated.
Jacob rolled his eyes. “Are you serious right now?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not,” Morgan said, because he clearly didn’t have another choice. Maybe he could corner Danny when Jacob was at the bar or in the bathroom and tell him the truth.
Honestly, he wasn’t even against Jacob knowing about him and Hayes, but he couldn’t tell Jacob before Finn. Morgan would be the first to say he was an idiot, but he wasn’t that much of an idiot.
“Awesome,” Jacob said, tapping Morgan’s hand with his fist. “I like Danny. He’s fun.”
“And here I thought you didn’t know the definition of that word,” Morgan grumbled.
Jacob shot him a look. “You really want to know about what I do for fun?”
“No, no,” Morgan spluttered. “How many goddamn times do I have to tell you that I am off-limits when it comes to you and Finn?”
“Just checking,” Jacob joked.
“God, you’re the worst.” Morgan couldn’t say he wasn’t a little worried about Braun finding out about him and Hayes—he’d given Jacob kind of a lot of crap when he’d gotten together with Finn. And if there was one thing he knew about Jacob, it was that he could take it, but he could also dish it right back.
“Where are we going? Don’t tell me you were gonna take Danny to that bar by your house.”
Morgan made a face. “What’s wrong with that place?”
“It’s a shithole.”
“Yeah, exactly. Why I like it.”
What he actually liked was that he didn’t get bothered there. That nobody cared that he was Morgan Reynolds.
“If you insist,” Jacob said, shrugging.
Of course, when they were at the bar, two hours later, and Danny shot him a look full of semi-outraged disbelief, Jacob didn’t bother holding back.
“It’s Mo’s favorite,” Jacob said.
“You’ve really changed,” Danny said.
Morgan made a face. He’d expected Danny, at least, to understand. He wasn’t going out for status or to be seen. That had changed when he’d retired. Now he just wanted to slide under everyone’s radar.
Hayes had said it best. Sometimes Morgan just wanted to take all this shit he was carrying around and put it down.
It was easier said than done, but coming to this shitty, hole-in-the-wall bar, with its sticky tables, floor littered with peanut shells, and completely disinterested clientele was one of the best ways.
“You bring Hayes here?” Danny asked under his breath when Jacob leaned over the bar and grabbed the bartender’s disinterested attention.
“Uh, no.”
“Oh, right why would you? He hates your guts now.” Danny shot him a knowing look.
Jacob turned back to them with three bottles in his hand. “We’re all set,” he said, distributing the beers. “Who hates Mo?”
“Nobody,” Morgan said quickly. “And everyone, honestly.”
Danny laughed as they made their way to a booth in the back of the bar.
“I was just wondering who Mo’s brought here from the team.”
“Finn came here once and then refused to come back. Said he’d rather not get rabies,” Jacob said chuckling.
“Definitely not Hayes then. He’s got taste.” Danny eyed Morgan again, like he was mentally finishing that sentence with God only knows what he was doing with you.
“Right,” Morgan said weakly. Trying desperately to come up with a reason to get Danny alone so he could 1) remind him that Hayes was off-limits as a conversational topic and 2) explain exactly why that still was.
Sipping his beer, Jacob leaned back in his chair. “Hayes isn’t all that snooty, though. He’s a great guy. Real chill, honestly, but a leader. Finn likes him a lot.”
Danny waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Morgan wanted to murder him. “You worried about Finn liking him too much, Braun?”
“No,” Jacob said, rolling his eyes.
“They’re very happy. Totally domesticated. Just don’t ask him to go into more detail,” Morgan said, while he tried to decide which subject was potentially worse: Hayes in general or how loved up his son was with Jacob Braun.
“Well, now we gotta make Mo here squirm a bit. Tell me more,” Danny said, leering as he leaned in.
Jacob laughed, the asshole.
“Hey,” Morgan said, clutching at straws, “you should go order us some mozzarella sticks. And um, a basket of fries.”
Jacob looked at him like he’d just grown a second head. “You don’t eat that shit. And you definitely don’t eat that shit here.”
“I’m hungry,” Morgan lied unconvincingly. “Didn’t eat enough at the game.”
Shaking his head, for a second Jacob didn’t move and Morgan was pretty sure he was going to be forced into grabbing Danny’s arm and dragging him to the bathroom like they were two girls needing to check their lip gloss.
But then he groaned and lifted himself up. “Maybe you are human after all, Reynolds,” Jacob said and then wandered back over towards the bartender.
“Quick,” Morgan said under his breath. “I wanted to tell you something.”
“Yeah, ’cause I can’t imagine you actually want to eat the food here. What is it?”
“Jacob doesn’t know, because Finn doesn’t know yet.” Morgan took a deep breath. Then told himself to get on with it. Jacob wasn’t going to be ordering for that long. “Hayes and I are dating.”
Morgan was expecting some low-level shocked surprise. Or maybe a snarky comment about how Morgan had finally gotten his shit together.
Danny just gave him a lazy once-over. “And?”
“And? And?” It was hard not to be butt hurt that was all the reaction his pronouncement had gotten him.
