Page 29 of Breakaway Goals

“Yeah, I’m his boyfriend. But you’re his father,” Jacob said. “It’s okay that you’re here. I promise. If it hadn’t been, you’d have known.”

For a second Morgan assumed Jacob was saying he’d have told Morgan to fuck off, but then he realized that no , Jacob meant Finn would be the one saying it.

His son was growing up, becoming a full-fledged adult with a backbone, and Morgan had never been prouder. Even when he ended up on the shit end of the stick. If he did, it was probably because he at least partially deserved it.

Kind of like the last six years of Hayes’ cold shoulder.

“Good.” Morgan looked out on the ice. Realized, as the lights went down, that the warmup was starting. Which meant the moment he’d been looking forward to and dreading in equal measures was about to happen.

Finn’s rookie lap.

“Oh, look, it’s . . .uh . . .it’s starting.”

When he’d been a rookie, this hadn’t been a thing, but now it was a beloved tradition. He’d known this was coming, and he hadn’t been sure he could get through it without embarrassing himself.

“Did you bring—” Jacob asked, voice sounding suddenly rough.

Morgan dug the item in question out of his pocket. He’d known he’d need them, but he hadn’t realized Jacob would too. That had been a stupid assumption. The way they loved Finn was very different, but they both loved him.

He smacked the tissues into Jacob’s hand. “Here,” he said through a tight throat as Finn stepped onto the ice.

“Thanks,” Jacob muttered.

Braun might not be the son-in-law he’d imagined having, but the truth was, Morgan realized as he and Jacob both tried to discreetly wipe the tears out of their eyes, he wasn’t half-bad.

Two periods later, Morgan was re-thinking his casual acceptance of Jacob.

“God, Monty’s on fire tonight,” Jacob said, tilting the bottle of beer towards his mouth. “Nice he’s giving Finn some great offensive support.”

Yeah, he sure was. The score was 5-1, Sentinels, and Finn had played well, but his biggest advantage was how aggressive Hayes and the Sentinels’ offense had been all night.

Morgan told himself not to tense because it would make it all way too obvious, but he was out of practice with Hayes Montgomery sneak attacks.

When he had to talk about him on a segment, he almost always knew in advance.

Could practice saying his name normally, like his whole heart wasn’t yearning for something it hadn’t figured out yet—or ever—that it couldn’t have.

“Yeah,” he said uselessly. The trick he’d used every time he’d faced Hayes on the ice did not work with Hayes still playing and him in the stands.

He couldn’t just pretend he didn’t exist. Couldn’t look right through him like he wasn’t there at all.

Like he was just any other player on the ice, even though he very much was not .

He definitely couldn’t do it when Jacob kept insisting on bringing him up.

Jacob looked over at him. “Yeah? That’s all you have to say? You’re the biggest fucking yapper in the universe when it comes to hockey, and all you have to say about Montgomery’s four point night is yeah ?”

Morgan swallowed hard. “Um yeah. He’s good.” So fucking brilliant I can’t even look at him.

Jacob’s jaw dropped. “Are you joking?”

“What? No?” Morgan tried very hard not to sound defensive, but he was pretty sure he failed.

“Don’t tell me you have a problem with him too,” Jacob said. “From what I remember at Four Nations, you two were all buddy-buddy.”

Shit. Fuck. Abort, abort .

“No, no problem,” Morgan said.

“Why are you so weird about him then?”

“I’m not,” Morgan argued valiantly. “He’s a good hockey player—a great hockey player. And uh . . .he’s playing great. So not that surprising? Not much to say?”

Jacob shot him a look like he was nuts and for a single heart-stopping moment, Morgan was afraid that he’d given himself away.

Jacob knew too much already. That there’d been a guy, once , and he’d been a hockey player and that it hadn’t ended well.

He could not be allowed to put together the correct theory that the guy was Hayes.

Jacob would never let him hear the end of it, and then he’d probably push him to tell Finn, and well, fuck that noise.

Morgan was not ever doing that. Not when he was already so viscerally aware of how pathetic he was.

“The craziest part of that argument is it’s actually believable that you’d think that.” Jacob shook his head. “You tell him that after he scored that goal at Four Nations?”

No, he had not.

He’d said lots of other things—and yet nothing that meant Hayes was still in Morgan’s life—but not that. Morgan might be an asshole, but he wasn’t a total fucking dick.

What did it say about him that Jacob actually believed he might pull that kind of move?

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Tilted it away from Jacob’s prying eyes. Sent Danny a text. This is worse than I thought it would be.

He couldn’t remember if Danny had a game tonight, but if he did, he’d get it after. That might actually be better. Danny coming in on the tail end of his meltdown was always better than witnessing the whole ugly thing.

But no dice. Danny’s response came through instantly. Yeah, I’m watching the game. Figured you were freaking out. Finn’s playing great. Then there’s Monty, putting on a show, just for you!!!!

Morgan wanted to yell at him, but yelling was not very effective over text. Honestly, when it came to Danny, yelling was not very effective, period .

He’s not doing it for me.

Lie to yourself if you want, but don’t fucking lie to me, Mo!!!

“Who’s that?” Jacob asked.

“Uh, Danny,” Morgan said, slipping his phone back into his pocket as Hayes’ line headed back onto the ice. “Matt Daniels.”

“Didn’t know you played with him,” Jacob said.

“I didn’t, actually. He signed with the Bandits the season after I retired. But he’s a friend,” Morgan said.

Morgan was not going to go into the details of when and why. That all edged too close to the truth of what had happened at Four Nations, and as much as Morgan wanted Braun to be stupid and oblivious, he definitely wasn’t.

“Finn really did this,” Jacob said a minute later, thankfully changing the subject, tone of voice warm and proud. Full of love.

“Never doubted for a minute.”

Jacob shot him a commiserating smile. “Me neither. Just really fucking proud of him.”

Morgan had worried, but not doubted. Any goalie could have a bad game, and the Penguins could still bring it. He’d just wanted this one game, his first , to go right for Finn. Set him up on the right trajectory.

But as time ticked down, it seemed that a Penguins resurgence, even with Crosby on the ice, wasn’t going to be happening.

The Pens pulled their goalie with two and a half minutes left, which considering they were down four goals seemed to be an exercise in pointlessness to Morgan, but Hayes went over the boards, along with the penalty kill, and they provided Finn the extra boost of defensive power they needed to keep the four goal lead.

Morgan was the first on his feet in their suite, cheering as the game clock hit zero, Jacob half a second behind him.

Jacob persuaded him to come to the locker room to congratulate Finn, despite the fact that he had two very compelling reasons not to go: 1) Morgan knew he pulled attention and he didn’t want to distract in any way from Finn, not tonight and 2) even the concept of seeing Hayes in his natural habitat, gear half-on, half-off, sweaty hair and victory smile on his face, made him break into a cold—or maybe a hot—sweat.

But somehow, despite everything, Morgan found himself trailing behind Jacob as they walked into the locker room.

Luckily, Finn’s locker was at the far end, next to the other goalie, and with the media swarmed around Hayes’ stall, it was easy enough to avoid the second problem.

As for the first, Finn’s face lit up even more when he and Jacob approached.

Morgan wasn’t stupid; he knew that smile was a solid seventy-five percent for Jacob, and only twenty-five for him, but Morgan didn’t mind that. There’d been a time when he wouldn’t have even gotten five percent of Finn’s joy and he’d take what he could get.

“You absolutely killed it out there,” Jacob said as Finn flung himself into his arms.

“Thanks,” Finn mumbled into Jacob’s shoulder. Then he glanced over at Morgan.

“Great job,” Morgan said, and to his surprise, Finn turned to him and gave him a tight hug too.

“I couldn’t be prouder,” he added when Finn let go.

Finn’s smile only grew. “It was a great game. Helps to have such great guys to play with.”

Jacob started rhapsodizing about the Sentinels’ defense and even their offense being defensive, most of which seemed to have something to do with Hayes, and Morgan tuned it out, because it was already hard enough being in this room.

Knowing Hayes was only just over there, a dozen feet away.

Morgan could hear the lilt of his voice, and the happiness in it.

He sounded a lot pleased about how the game had gone, and frankly, Morgan couldn’t be angry at him for that.

It was the kind of NHL debut he’d wanted so much for Finn.

His distraction was why, when Jacob nudged him a minute later, he had no idea what he’d just been volunteered for.

“We’re heading out in a bit,” Finn said to him.

Morgan felt like he’d missed something vital. “Heading out where?”

Finn grinned. “Celebratory drinks, what else? You’re both coming.”

Panic raced up Morgan’s spine. “Oh, no,” he said with an awkward shrug. “Jacob yeah, he should. He’s your boyfriend. I’m just—”

“Just my dad,” Finn said softly, so proud and happy when the opposite had been true for so fucking long. How was Morgan supposed to say no to that?

He couldn’t.

Even if it meant that an hour later, he was sitting in a dark bar, music pulsing around them, as he tried his best to avoid Hayes.