Page 33 of Breakaway Goals

“Not surprised.” Jasper smiled. Like of course Hayes was going to get an extension, and he’d stay with the Sentinels. That felt good, and it might have even been reassuring, if Barty hadn’t told him how it was really going.

“Lars thought,” Jasper continued, referring to Hayes’ other alternate captain, after the waitress arrived to drop off their drink orders, “that maybe you were dating again.”

“Me? Nah. Not during the season.”

Jasper shot him a shrewd look. “Not ever, really. Not since that last guy. Alexander, that was his name, right?”

Yep, that had been his name. Hayes would always be a little pissed that their names would be connected together forever, because he was essentially the reason Hayes had come out.

Then less than four months later, after Hayes had blown up the closet to make him happy, Alexander had decided that he didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

Maybe if you really loved me, he’d thrown in Hayes’ face, when it had finally ended.

Hayes couldn’t even blame him for that. He’d loved Alexander as much as he could, which, admittedly, hadn’t really been enough. It wasn’t Alexander’s fault that he wasn’t Morgan. That Morgan had taken all of his heart and hadn’t ever given it back.

“Nobody since him,” Hayes said. He took a long drink of his iced tea. “I don’t know if I’m really cut out for dating.”

“What about a hot hookup?” Jasper grinned.

Hayes shot him an incredulous look. “How do you even have the energy to troll for those?” Jasper was the textbook definition of a chaotic bi, and he had plenty of hot hookups under his belt.

Jasper’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No?”

“Dude. All you have to do is post a thirst trap and you’d probably have thousands of offers in your inbox. Legit offers.”

Hayes brushed that off, even if Jasper was probably right. “Why would I want someone like that? Who only wants me because I’m Hayes Montgomery?”

“It’s a hookup, man. Who cares why they’re there if the dick is good?” Jasper shook his head incredulously.

“This is why I’m bad at hookups.” He hadn’t used to be. Pre-Morgan, he’d been perfectly okay with them. But falling in love with Morgan, alongside growing older and maturing enough to deserve the A and then the C, had changed him.

“A fucking waste,” Jasper said, laughing now. “God, I can’t imagine the ass I’d get if I was you.”

“I guess the city of Tampa should preemptively thank me that you’re not,” Hayes joked weakly.

Normally, these conversations with Jasper made him laugh for real. Hearing all about Jasper’s insane exploits and poking fun at him for how ridiculous he was could be a really good time.

But it didn’t feel particularly good now.

Maybe, Hayes thought morosely, Jasper was right, and since the season started he’d been too far up his own ass and far too lost in his own head.

He did his job, even on an off day, finishing up chatting with Jasper and then making his way down towards the end of the table. Making sure everyone was having a good time.

And who’s making sure you’re having a good time, Monty? That voice might normally belong to Zach, but now, it uncomfortably reminded him a little too much of Morgan.

Hayes brushed it aside as he approached where Finn was flopped down at the end of the table. He took the chair opposite him—vacated by Noah, who’d gone to talk to Jasper, probably about what kind of hot hookups he could find now that he was single.

“Hey,” Finn said, nodding at Hayes. “Having a good time?”

Like father, like son.

“Of course,” Hayes said, far too aware his answer sounded rehearsed. Perfunctory. Like something he said without even thinking about if it was true.

Did he mean it? Well, he wanted to mean it. Surely that counted for something.

Finn’s hazel eyes narrowed. He looked a lot like Morgan, but the younger, easier, less-complicated version of him. The softer version. His curls fell, untamed, over his forehead, his ears.

“Anyone actually believe that?” he asked.

Hayes made a face. “Usually, yeah.”

That knowing look on Finn’s face eased. “You can be honest, you know? Is it weird?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Hayes complained.

“Probably because it’s a little weird,” Finn said sagely. “My dad’s a lot to deal with. I know exactly what that feels like. How he can eclipse everyone in his vicinity.”

“He’s not normally in my vicinity,” Hayes said, hoping that his voice sounded at least semi-normal. It was probably too much to ask to never discuss Morgan with his son.

“He doesn’t have to physically be around to make an impact. I know that. And I bet you know it too.”

Hayes shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

This was not the easygoing conversation full of teasing bullshit he’d expected to exchange with Finn Reynolds.

They’d kept it pretty light before this, and Hayes realized that had been all him.

Finn had been letting him set the tone, and now he was turning the tables on Hayes.

God, he really kind of hated everyone with the last name of Reynolds. It was like they had a perpetual boner to overcomplicate everything.

“That’s not not true,” Hayes allowed.

“I should’ve asked you if it was okay if he hung around,” Finn said, full of sincerity. “I just . . .I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Hayes said and meant that , one hundred percent. Finn was a rookie; he had a lot more burdens on his plate than just trying to deal with all Hayes’ weird fucking history with Morgan.

“We just . . .we haven’t always been close,” Finn confessed. “He can be kind of shitty.” Understatement of the fucking century , Hayes thought.

“But he’s been better? If he’s still shitty—”

“No,” Finn interrupted, “he’s a lot better these days.”

Hayes was glad Finn didn’t let him finish that sentence because if he did, Hayes would probably make a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.

Could he tell Morgan to get out of Tampa?

If it helped his rookie, then yes, he would.

But he really didn’t want to. It would mean getting too close again, and Hayes was operating under a very strict No Morgan policy.

“Uh, retirement agrees with him, then?” Hayes told himself he didn’t want to know. That he was just making the kind of casual conversation he’d intended to have with Finn, but he didn’t even believe it himself.

Finn barked out a laugh. “No, not even remotely. But he and Jacob keep themselves occupied. Mostly by fucking around with each other.”

“It’s kind of bizarre they’re friends now,” Hayes said.

Finn laughed again. “I know, right? I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it every day. But it’s good for them. I think my dad needed someone who understood what it was like, you know, to be him.”

He had someone, kid, and he ditched me, at the first available opportunity.

“Of course,” Finn continued, “not that he’d ever actually admit that. He still whines about Jacob all the time. We just don’t believe him anymore.”

At one point, right before camp had started, Hayes had wondered if Morgan had told his son about the fling. But it was clear, from the moment Finn showed up, that he hadn’t. That he was in the dark, like everyone else.

It was better that way. Easier, for certain.

But there was still an annoying and perverse part of Hayes that wanted Finn to know. To understand when he said shit like that, for him to really know what he was saying.

“Yeah,” Hayes said. He should get up. Make a smooth, easy exit. Not keep talking about Morgan with Finn. No matter how tempting it was. Especially because it was so tempting.

Like getting a little glimpse of who Morgan had been these last six years. What Morgan was like now, three years after retirement.

“But really,” Finn said, all earnestness, “it’s okay that he’s around?”

Finn had so much natural confidence, an easy way of conducting himself, so used to being the center of attention his whole life because of his last name, that sometimes it was easy to forget that he was also a rookie.

“It’s cool, as long as it’s cool with you,” Hayes said, meeting his earnestness.

“Don’t worry.” Finn grinned at him. “The moment he pisses me off or fucks up, I’ll be the first person to tell him to get out.”

Part of Hayes was screaming, what about me? What about me? What about fucking me? But he ignored it. It wasn’t that hard, because he’d been ignoring that voice for six years now.

“Good,” Hayes said and even managed to dredge up a conspiratorial smile.