Page 34 of Breakaway Goals

“You’re being weird, even for you,” Jacob claimed as they sat next to each other at the bar down the street from their rental houses.

It was honestly kind of a shithole dive, but it was quiet and neither of them had ever been bothered by the regulars there, who probably wouldn’t know a hockey player—even a famous hockey player—if he smacked them on the side of the head with a stick.

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 was just 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’d felt like. 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 but deny, 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. We should talk 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 tell Jacob any 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.”

“ You said 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.”

“And then you admitted it was a player,” Jacob retorted mildly.

“You said that,” Morgan argued. “I never admitted shit.”

“Morgan, cut the crap,” Jacob said.

“I can’t even tell you how much I don’t want to talk about it,” Morgan said. “I didn’t want to talk about it then, and I really, really don’t want to talk about it now.”

“Is it Jasper Brandt?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Morgan said, grateful that the bartender finally set his next beer in front of him.

He’d gone out of his way to not get drunk with Jacob, not after the one time they did not talk about, right after he’d found out about Jacob and Finn dating.

But maybe it was time to break that self-imposed rule, especially if Jacob kept up this line of questioning.

“He’s cute and I know he’s bi,” Jacob mused. “If it isn’t Jasper, you could do worse.”

“For the love of God, please do not attempt to matchmake. You’d be terrible at it,” Morgan said between clenched teeth. He was so tense he thought he’d never get his shoulders to loosen.

They’d come here specifically to relax. Or at least that was what Jacob had claimed. But the truth was, he’d set this whole thing up, trying to get Morgan relaxed, so he could interrogate him.

Morgan was not a fan, and if Finn wasn’t so head over heels in love with Jacob, he would seriously consider beating his ass right about now.

Punching him right in the mouth so he would finally shut the fuck up.

“Or I’m sure we could find you a nice girl.” Jacob glanced around the bar like they were going to find him a “nice girl” here, which was a total joke.

“I don’t want anyone ,” Morgan said.

Jacob’s gaze was sympathetic. So fucking nice. Caring. Affectionate. Morgan could almost see why Finn loved him so much. Almost . “Sure, you love being alone. It’s super fun.”

“I’m not alone .” But he was, and he’d never felt it more than he had in the last year.

When he returned tonight to his big empty rental house, different but so painfully similar to his big New York penthouse, the walls would echo around him with silence and he’d turn the TV up louder, hoping that ESPN might drown out all the thoughts he didn’t want to hear.

Jacob raised a dubious eyebrow. “You’re not? You’re hanging out with me out of your own free will? Not because you don’t have any other choices?”

“You’re actually the worst,” Morgan said, with feeling.

“I know.” Jacob was grinning now, way too pleased with himself that he’d caught Morgan out. “We gonna talk about it now?”

“Yeah, it’s . . .it’s someone here.” He was definitely never telling Jacob who it was, not after that whole even you wouldn’t be stupid enough to pine after Hayes Montgomery bullshit. If he wanted to be stupid, there was nobody to stop him. And if anyone deserved being pined after, it was Hayes.

“Jasper?” Jacob said expectantly.

“No. No. And I’m never telling you. So stop asking.” That would probably not be the end of it, because Jacob was Jacob, and even though they were friends now, he’d never really stopped being a pain in Morgan’s ass. But he could hope.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I said it before and I still mean it. No . It . . .ended. That’s the best, the only , thing I can say about it.”

“Because you’re Morgan?”

Morgan rolled his eyes. Took a long drink of his beer. “Why would you just assume it was me?”

“Because you’re Morgan,” Jacob repeated. “And you never saw a good thing you didn’t want to fuck up by overcomplicating it.”

Seriously, fuck Jacob. Fuck everything .

“It was never meant to last,” Morgan admitted morosely. He’d long since come to the conclusion that even if Hayes hadn’t kicked him out of his hotel room six years ago, if by some insane miracle, he’d let Morgan stay, their end was always inevitable. Two people had never been less meant to be.

Morgan desperately wanted to believe that was true. But then, if it was, it was beyond unfair that they had fit together like that. Like Hayes had been made for Morgan and Morgan for Hayes. Fate was a bitch like that.

“Well, that’s just depressing.” Jacob nudged Morgan with his shoulder.

“You don’t know anything about it,” Morgan said. He’d thought he’d sound prickly and defensive, but instead it came out sad and miserable.

“Then tell me,” Jacob said persuasively.

“I . . .I don’t know,” Morgan said. How could he tell Jacob about any of the details without Jacob guessing who it was?

“You worried I’m going to tell Finn?”

“If you were going to tell Finn, you’d have already done it.”

Jacob nodded. “We’re friends, Mo. You know that, even when you try to deny it. And it does help to talk it out.”

“It’s been over for a long time. I should be over it. But I’m . . .I’m not.” It was hard to admit that, and he’d imagined when he came down to Florida that it was natural for some of the feelings to rise to the surface. But it was even worse than Morgan had anticipated.

“You really cared about this guy.”

Morgan had to give Jacob credit. He did not say God, Morgan, I’m so shocked you were even capable of it .

Sometimes Jacob could be a good guy, and sometimes, even, Jacob could be a good guy about things that were not related to Finn.

“Yeah.” Morgan swallowed the rest of his beer.

“I loved him. ’Course I didn’t really realize that at the time.

No. Actually. That’s a lie. I knew I . .

.I knew I did. I knew if I let myself, I’d pick him over hockey.

And so I . . .” Morgan nearly slipped and said, and so I left , but that was too close to the truth.

“So I ended it, before I could fuck up the end of my career.”