Page 101 of Breakaway Goals

But when Hayes grabbed a garbage bag and started going around, filling it with empty bottles, he emerged from the back patio.

Still very much here.

And, Hayes realized with growing horror, the only one who was still left.

“Hey,” Morgan said, like it was totally normal and fine that they were alone together in Hayes’ house. Like it wasn’t weird. Like he hadn’t spent too many years and had too many unhinged fantasies about this very scenario. “There were some empties outside. You want me to grab them for you?”

Hayes shoved the trash bag at Morgan’s hands. “Sure.”

Morgan shot him a confused look. “Weren’t you using this?”

“I . . .uh . . .yes.”

“So just come with me,” Morgan said, gesturing to the big open doors that led to the patio. “Bring your bag.”

Hayes considered arguing, but it was clear from the way Morgan turned and started walking outside that he just expected him to follow.

So fucking typical.

“You’re so bossy,” Hayes complained as he trailed after, stepping through the wide-open doors.

“I thought you were just complaining that I was too nice,” Morgan said, his tone gently teasing.

“I take it back,” Hayes grumbled under his breath. Morgan leaned over and picked up several bottles in one of his big hands and Hayes tried not to remember what that hand had felt like on him.

Maybe Jasper was right and it had been too long since his last hookup.

Walking over, Morgan dropped the bottles into the trash bag but didn’t move away the way Hayes expected he would.

He could say a lot about Morgan Reynolds, but since he’d arrived in Tampa, he’d given Hayes his space. Hayes hadn’t even run into him at the gym again.

He’d told himself that was fine and good, better than the alternative, for sure, but maybe he’d been a little disappointed. The view really had been top-notch. Distracting, yes, but excellent.

“When are you going to the gym now?” Hayes asked, the booze making his tongue loose, and the thought just popped out.

Morgan paused, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You noticed.”

“Kind of hard to forget,” Hayes bitched.

“Late at night. Seemed the best time to avoid . . .um . . .anyone who I might be bothering.”

Morgan didn’t have to stumble over his words for Hayes to know who exactly Morgan was avoiding.Him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Hayes said softly. It was so hard to think of Morgan as the guy who’d broken his heart when he was staring at him with those soft, warm hazel eyes. When he was trying to be nice, just to be nice. When he’d avoided Hayes just because Hayes had been shitty and told Morgan to his face he didn’t want him around.

“You asked me to.” Morgan took a step closer. His jaw clenched and a second later, he glanced over Hayes’ shoulder. Like he’d given too much away.

And maybe he had. Maybe . . .

No.No. That would be insane. It would be insane to forget how the last six years had felt, how he’d missed Morgan every single fucking day.

But you missed him every single fucking day.

He had. And he’d had what, three beers and two shots of tequila, when he’d barely drunk for the last three months? He was allowed to make a stupid mistake when three beers and two shots were involved. And if that stupid mistake felt as good as it seemed, before it could even happen yet?

Well, that said it all.

Hayes set his free hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said that.” He’d meant it, one hundred and ten percent, at the time, because it had felt like sheer fucking torture, to have to face Morgan andnotwant him. But looking at it now, Hayes wished he hadn’t been so blunt.