Page 41 of Breakaway Goals

Except that Hayes was pretty sure he was the only one who’d gotten that memo.

Because he looked up, a few hours into the party, and realized that Morgan was one of the few guys left.

Lars and Emily had just taken off, to relieve their babysitter.

Jasper had left five minutes earlier with a contingent of the younger guys, including Finn and Silov, to go to some hot new club in town. Hayes had been pretty sure that Morgan left then, too, not to go clubbing, but back to his house. Alone. Thank goodness.

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 and not want him. But looking at it now, Hayes wished he hadn’t been so blunt.

“Did you mean it?” Morgan asked. Soft. Intimate. It brought back so many memories, visceral and hot, of dim hotel rooms. Morgan’s voice murmuring in his ear. They’d only had ten days, but every single minute of their time together felt like it was scribed onto his heart.

“At the time, a little. But not enough.” Hayes’ fingers curled into Morgan’s shoulder as he tugged him a half inch closer. He felt as big and broad and firm as he’d felt then. Hayes wanted to gorge, to fling himself right at Morgan and hope he’d catch him, but he held himself back, barely.

Morgan huffed out a little laugh. “I want to argue with you but that would be stupid of me.”

“Yeah?” It was so easy to tilt his head up, to look Morgan right in the eye. He could already taste Morgan’s mouth.

There was an inevitability about this, same as there’d been six years ago. He was fated to want Morgan. Fated to lose him. Fated to pine over him. Fated to get another taste, when he’d been so sure he never would again.

“Well, duh. I told you I was an idiot, I told you—”

The last thing he wanted was for Morgan to ruin this with another shitty apology. “Shut up. Stop talking,” Hayes said and kissed him.

Morgan gasped into his mouth, like that was the last thing he’d expected.

But then before Hayes could pull away and demand to know if that wasn’t what he’d fucking meant by saying in that wry, regretful tone, I was an idiot, too , Morgan wrapped one of those big, warm hands around his waist and pulled him flush against him. His tongue dipped between Hayes’ lips.

Hayes dropped the trash bag with a crash, barely hearing the sound as he slid his other hand onto Morgan’s opposite shoulder.

He kissed him like he’d dreamt about for so fucking long.

Like he’d thought about doing this every day for the last two thousand plus days, and missed it for every one of those days.

And Morgan? Gave back as good as Hayes was giving. Like he’d been there, too, and now that he was getting another chance, was not going to waste it.

They stumbled, hands gripping each other, lips moving together fiercely, over to one of the pool loungers.

Hayes felt his knees hit the edge, and then Morgan was pushing him down. Hovering over him. His big, hard body covering his, cock noticeably pressing against Hayes’ thigh.

“Fuck, baby,” Morgan groaned out. “You feel so good?” His voice was full of incredulous disbelief.

Like he’d never imagined he’d ever get to feel it again.

Hayes wanted to tell him that he’d never intended to let him, but that wasn’t just a punishment for Morgan, but for him, too.

And he was so fucking tired of punishing and denying and pretending.

He curled a hand around Morgan’s shoulder and pulled him more tightly against him, relishing the feel of Morgan’s body caging him in, pressing him down.

It felt like déjà vu and a hallucination. An echo of what it had felt like then, all those old memories clashing and blending with the new.

Hayes tucked a calf around Morgan’s and swallowed another of his groans. Their mouths moved against each other, slick and so eager, and for a single delusional second, Hayes thought, this could be enough. This could be enough forever.

But of course it wasn’t. It wouldn’t ever be.

He’d seen Morgan’s big hand earlier tonight and imagined how it would feel against his bare skin. And when it rucked up Hayes’ shirt, he nearly short-circuited at the feel of it, heat pressed into heat.

“Good?” Morgan murmured into his mouth.

“The best.” For a second, Hayes felt a flash of embarrassment. Because that was true. It was the best, and he’d never wanted Morgan to know that.

But then Morgan was straight up groaning harder, hips making tiny little aborted thrusts as he ground his cock against Hayes’ thigh.

Turned out it was impossible to feel any kind of way but insanely turned on when two simple words had that kind of effect on a man like Morgan Reynolds.

“Want you,” Morgan gasped out. “Let me.”

Hayes didn’t know what he was letting him do, but he nodded mindlessly. Morgan could do anything he wanted. No questions. No hesitation.

Morgan reached down and tugged Hayes’ T-shirt over his head, his fingertips pressing into his pec, thumb reaching down to brush his nipple.

Keeping the noise in was impossible, but Hayes tried.

“No, no,” Morgan argued breathlessly. “Let me hear you, baby. I wanna hear you. Imagined you like this so many goddamn times.”

Morgan’s words were like a shock to his spine, to his skin, to his cock. Bowing him, remaking him, unmaking him.

He slid down Hayes’ body, tugging his shorts and his briefs as he went, and Hayes only had a brief moment to prepare for the white-hot heat of Morgan’s mouth before it was closing over his dick.

Hayes knew he should take advantage of the view. Should look . Even if the sight of Morgan’s mouth closing over him and sucking him down was another, nearly unbearable, jolt of electricity.

He pulled off for a second, hand closing around the base, tapped the head of his cock against his tongue and that was definitely a move Morgan hadn’t had six years ago.

Hayes didn’t even give a fuck if he’d learned that from someone else. He only cared that he was doing it to him , now.

“So eager I didn’t even ask if it was okay out here,” Morgan murmured in a hushed voice. “Can anyone—”

“No, it’s private. There’s walls.”

Hayes wouldn’t have even cared if there wasn’t. Let the world see Morgan sucking his cock. He’d wear even the shame of it as a badge of pride.

“Good,” Morgan said. “Then they won’t hear you scream.”

The haughty, sure-he-no-longer-gave-a-shit part of Hayes, that wanted to be more over him than he clearly was, scoffed at Morgan’s presumption.