Page 43 of Breakaway Goals

When Morgan woke up, it was still dark.

For a second, he was confused and unsure where he was.

The bed felt foreign. Firm and big, an acre of mattress. Cool sheets against his naked skin.

Then he remembered, his memory coming back in flashes.

Hayes . Him .

They’d slept together, again.

Morgan rolled onto his back and realized a moment later that he was alone.

Was that why he’d woken up?

He never slept next to anyone, not for years and years, so it didn’t make sense that he’d woken up when Hayes slipped out.

For a long minute, Morgan waited. Expecting him to come back from the bathroom. Maybe even the kitchen. But that minute turned into five, counted down in his head, and then Morgan realized maybe he wasn’t coming back.

Hayes had been quiet after they’d had sex. He’d barely said a handful of words, and Morgan had wondered if he should say more , but then he’d been afraid to. What if he said too much? Said it wrong, again? Scared Hayes away before he could ever make it right?

But then he hadn’t kicked Morgan out of bed, either.

That had to be enough.

Morgan lifted himself out of bed and went in search of Hayes.

Found him a few minutes later, outside, face lit by the dim blue pool light. Curled up on one of the loungers—not the one they’d nearly fucked on—a blanket wrapped around his naked shoulders even though it was south Florida, so it was hardly cold even though it was the middle of the night.

“Hey,” Morgan said, and Hayes looked up at him in surprise. Like he hadn’t been expected to get caught. “You okay?”

Hayes picked at the corner of the blanket. “Yeah,” he said.

He was regretting not grabbing any of his clothes. Not because it was cold, but because he felt exposed. Weirdly vulnerable in a way he never did, even after spending so many years naked in changing rooms.

There was a moment he thought he should leave Hayes to his two a.m. mental gymnastics, but there was no way the mental gymnastics were not about him.

Morgan settled down on the next lounger over.

Glancing over at him, Morgan saw the corner of Hayes’ mouth tilt up. “You gonna sit out here, too?”

It was not a hard question to answer. “You’re here. So I’m here,” Morgan said, shrugging.

Hayes opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again. But before Morgan could elaborate, he was turning his whole body in Morgan’s direction.

“Honestly, what the fuck,” he said, not really asking and not really sounding pissed either. Just incredulous. “What the fuck, Morgan.”

“I was an idiot. We established that.” But it was more than that too. “You know it never could’ve worked. We didn’t talk about it, back then, because it was impossible.”

Hayes didn’t say anything but the look on his face told Morgan that the same thought had crossed his mind.

“And after . . .” Morgan had promised himself he’d never tell Hayes this, but there was no way to make this right without complete honesty. “After I retired, I was going to come see you. Had my ticket booked and everything. And then you came out.”

It was hard to watch Hayes as the bomb dropped on him. He sat there, shocked into silence for a long moment.

“Alexander.” He looked drawn and white, blue light playing over the angles of his face.

“I thought you were happy. For a crazy moment, I thought, I could go ask him still. Maybe he’d want me instead, but then I thought, you’re happy. That’s all I wanted. Better that I leave you alone—”

“I wasn’t,” Hayes interrupted. Leaning forward. “I wasn’t fucking happy. Not happy enough, anyway. He dumped me because I was still in love with you.”

Morgan froze. Couldn’t imagine what his expression looked like.

Should he apologize? Should he grovel? Keep groveling?

Immediately fall to his knees, like Danny constantly kept suggesting, and say he loved him too? That he’d loved him for six years?

None of the options seemed good enough. So he just sat there in stunned silence, instead. Totally better , Danny told him in his head. Faced with the moment, you fucking freeze.

“I know, pretty pathetic, isn’t it?” Hayes said, with a self-deprecating smile. “I tried to get over it. But from what happened tonight, you can see how well that went.”

Morgan finally managed to unstick his tongue. “I . . .I never got over it. I meant it, I was an idiot.”

“Not a wrong idiot though,” Hayes pointed out gently. “You were right about it not working then. How would it have? And I knew it, which is why I didn’t say anything, either. I only wish you hadn’t . . .just . . . left .”

Morgan wished he hadn’t either. He hadn’t been able to be as honest as he should have during that piss-poor apology six years ago, but he could do it now.

He’d practiced the confession enough times.

“I shouldn’t have handled it that way. It doesn’t make it right, but .

. .” It was hard—terrifying, actually—to meet Hayes’ gaze but he did it anyway.

“But I didn’t think I’d have been able to do it, if I waited, if I said goodbye. If I . . .if I did it right.”

“What are you saying?” Of course Hayes cut right through his nebulous bullshit.

Morgan stood, still feeling that vulnerability creep up his spine. Walked over to Hayes. If he fucked this up now, he wasn’t going to get a second chance.

Hayes stared at him.

“If I’d had to say goodbye, I wouldn’t have said goodbye.”

“But—”

But Morgan shook his head. He had to get through this.

“Hockey was the most important thing, forever. My entire life. More important than my marriage. God help me, more important than my kid, for a long time. I’m trying to fix that now.

But that time, with you, it made me want more than just hockey for the first time ever.

I wanted to feel that way every single fucking day.

I’d have done something crazy to keep it. ”

He’d lain there, insane thoughts going through his head. Like demanding a trade to a California team. Like refusing, like a lovestruck fool, to play if he couldn’t play with Hayes.

“You wouldn’t have,” Hayes argued, because of course, even now, he was being contrary.

But Morgan wouldn’t take him any other way.

“I would have,” Morgan said. If he’d fallen in any deeper, there was no way he wouldn’t have.

Finally, Hayes moved his legs back. Morgan sat at the edge of the lounger. Maybe he’d screwed this up so many times. Maybe they’d gone past the point of no return. But he could at least be honest.

“I loved you, so I absolutely would have,” Morgan said quietly. “Never felt that way about anyone else. Not before. Not since.”

Hayes’ breath went out of him in a big whoosh. He leaned back on the lounger. Eyes so green, even in the blue light of the pool. “Loved?” he questioned quietly.

Digging his fingers into his thigh, Morgan knew he was doing the right thing, even though it felt like the scariest leap he’d ever taken. “Love,” he corrected. “I love you.”

“Oh. Oh .” Hayes actually sounded surprised. Shocked, in fact.

“What did you think? That I said all that stuff during sex because I . . .” Morgan didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Decided maybe it was better that he didn’t.

“I thought it was . . .I don’t know . . .sex. You talking with your dick.”

“I was talking with my dick. It’s always been a little obsessed with you. But it wasn’t just my dick,” Morgan admitted dryly.

Hayes sighed. “We’re both idiots. Clearly. It wouldn’t have worked then. We can agree on that, I guess. But what about now? Do you even want—”

“Yes,” Morgan said quickly. Before Hayes could change his mind.

Hayes smiled and, for the first time in a long time, definitely for the first time since Morgan had come to Tampa, Hayes looked happy . Really fucking happy. He reached out and poked Morgan in the thigh with a fingertip. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“Whatever you’re going to suggest, I’m gonna want it.”

“You seriously mean that?” Hayes rolled his eyes, but he looked absolutely delighted. So surprised and unexpectedly thrilled, Morgan knew that he’d work, just as hard as he’d worked at hockey, to make sure Hayes looked like this every single fucking day for the rest of his life .

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

“But . . .” Hayes looked happy, but he still seemed like he was hesitating.

Morgan wanted to lean in and kiss him this time, but like before, he didn’t want to be the one pushing. As tough as it was to put everything in Hayes’ court, that was where the final decisions needed to stay.

“But what? I’m crazy about you, angel. I love you. I want everything you’ll give me,” he murmured. He could prime the pump though, so to speak. And felt no guilt about leaning in closer, tucking his hand under the burrito-ed blankets, and squeezing Hayes’ knee.

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He hadn’t known what that was, before, but he knew now.

“How would this even work ? It wouldn’t have before.”

Morgan wasn’t sure he was following Hayes’ logic.

“You’re playing, but I’m not. I’m . . .well, half my time is spent playing third wheel with my son and Jacob, a quarter pretending that I know what the fuck I’m talking about on TV, and the last quarter .

. .” It was painful to admit this, too, but Hayes had to know.

“The last quarter, I’m alone. How do you think it would work? ”

Hayes’ gaze was serious. “You know how much time I have to give to the team.”

“Angel, believe me. I know. I’ve spent the last two months watching you.”

“You were around, sure—” Hayes began to ramble, but this was just ridiculous. Morgan couldn’t let this stand.

“No,” he corrected gently, squeezing Hayes’ knee again.

It felt delicate under his hand, which was insane, because he knew how tough Hayes was.

He was beautiful and sexy and he was also so good at hockey, at twisting D-men around his little finger, it made Morgan want to cry.

Made him want to drop to his knees and worship him the way he deserved.