Page 55 of Breakaway Goals

“You know, you could’ve stayed over last night,” Hayes said when Morgan walked into his kitchen after letting himself in with Hayes’ door code.

He’d only left a few hours before, after they’d shared a few plates of food from Hayes’ meal delivery service and made out on the couch with a Sharks-Knights game playing on the TV that neither of them bothered watching.

It had been a week since they’d told Finn and Jacob and two weeks since they’d started dating, and if Hayes was being honest, he hadn’t ever anticipated that Morgan could hold out on this celibacy thing this long. If he had, he never would’ve suggested that Morgan was just in it for the sex.

Because sex was not happening, and Hayes very much wanted the sex to be happening.

“I know,” Morgan said, setting the tray full of coffee down on the counter.

Hayes moved closer. Tipped his head against Morgan’s shoulder. “We could’ve woken up together and then you could have brought me breakfast in bed.”

Morgan’s arm slid around his bare back, his touch warm and reassuring. “I told you why I wasn’t staying.”

It was impossible not to pout about it. Because he had asked last night, too, practically grinding on Morgan’s lap as he’d done it, and apparently Morgan was made of stronger stuff than that.

Or Hayes had somehow become less appealing.

But no—that couldn’t be true. Because Morgan’s fingers shook against his skin, then, and he turned his head away, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Don’t be unfair,” Morgan said.

“My turn,” Hayes said. “If you want me to say it, I’ll say it. No shame, whatsoever. Let’s go to bed. Right now.”

“You have to fly out in less than two hours.”

It shouldn’t have been so cute—or make want Hayes to drag Morgan to the bed, tie him to the headboard, and torture him sexually—that Morgan had apparently memorized Hayes’ schedule.

“Less than two hours? Plenty of time.” He could do a lot with that kind of time.

Morgan detached from him. Plucked his coffee from the tray and skirted around the island, like a dozen feet of marble was enough to deter Hayes from seducing him.

“Drink your coffee,” Morgan said mildly.

“It is sweet that you came back this morning,” Hayes said, picking up his own cup. Sipping it, feeling the warmth flood him when he realized it was made perfectly.

If you’d asked him a month ago if Morgan Reynolds would be a good boyfriend, he’d have laughed and said no fucking way. But he was.

Other than the fact he kept refusing to fuck Hayes.

Morgan drummed his fingers against the countertop. “You’re welcome.”

“In case I haven’t said it, you trying to be romantic is also sweet,” Hayes said.

Morgan huffed out a laugh. “Then why do you keep going for my dick?”

“Oh, baby, you know why.”

“And you know why I gotta stop you.” Morgan’s face did something complicated.

Hayes probably knew him better than anyone else, even after all this time, and he still couldn’t figure out what that look meant.

Morgan could be a prickly, difficult creature, but that was okay, because he was Hayes ’ creature.

“Supposedly,” Hayes said, pouting. “What’s it gonna take? I promise you, baby, I didn’t mean it. I don’t mean it, now. You wanna love me and romance me. I get it. But I also want you to hit it, desperately .”

Because Morgan was apparently determined to discover if you could die from blue balls, he changed the subject. “You’re home in two days?”

“Yeah,” Hayes said, nodding.

“Text me when you’ve landed, alright?” Morgan asked casually.

“Baby, you know I’m gonna be texting you all the time.” He was also planning on sending at least one picture that, if it was as effective as Hayes hoped, might soften Morgan’s determination to keep their relationship PG.

“I hope so,” Morgan said, smirking a little smugly. “I know how it can be on the road.”

He would, and clearly they had disliked the same parts of it, because just having these little intimate moments in between games and practices and flights, moments when he’d normally have been alone, was something Hayes could get used to.

“You’re actually a really great boyfriend.” He hadn’t really meant to say it. After all, Morgan was making the effort now, to prove he could be better. What would it be like in six months? In a year? In three?

Would Morgan still be texting him first thing so he never had to get out of bed alone? Bringing him coffee? Grabbing lunch? Meeting up at the gym? Late night dinners, where Morgan didn’t even mind if Hayes was so tired he didn’t want to talk, just rested his head on his shoulder?

Hayes hoped he would.

Honestly, Hayes hoped it would be even better than the last few weeks had been.

“What am I always telling you, angel? You deserve it. Every single bit of it,” Morgan said. His gaze had been warm, but now, it heated up.

And when Hayes rounded the island and set his cup down, kissing him hard and deep and insistent, Morgan didn’t pull away. Didn’t shift his hips away when Hayes rubbed his cock against his thigh.

Yes, Hayes thought, tasting the coffee on Morgan’s tongue and beginning to tug him in the direction of the living room. If he detoured them to the bedroom, Morgan might change his mind, and at this point, Hayes wasn’t picky.

“Hey, hey,” Morgan said, lifting his mouth off Hayes before they collapsed together onto the couch. “Not this morning.”

“Why?” Hayes wanted to believe he was above whining about it, but he wasn’t.

Morgan’s gaze darkened, sweeping over Hayes’ bare chest, his ratty old basketball shorts.

He’d definitely looked hotter, better. He’d even looked hotter and better in the last two weeks for sure.

“Because you have to get on a plane and we don’t have enough time for what I want to do to you. Wanna keep you in bed for a week.”

Hayes flopped, alone, onto the couch. “I take it back. You’re the worst.”

Morgan grinned down at him, hands braced on the back cushions as he gave Hayes a series of too-brief pecks on the mouth. “No, you don’t. You think I’m the best , you just said so.”

“Well, don’t be so smug about it then,” Hayes complained. But he couldn’t stop smiling, even as Morgan kissed him.

“You love it when I’m smug about it,” Morgan pointed out, still smiling.

It was true and Hayes couldn’t even deny it.

It was a back-to-back, up in Philly and then to New Jersey.

The Sentinels took the Flyers, four to one, and then went to a shootout against the Devils, ultimately losing because Jasper couldn’t quite sneak the puck past Markstrom’s kneepad.

By the time the team boarded the flight back to Florida, Hayes was tired, but it was more than physical exhaustion—though there was plenty of that, too.

It was unbelievable, sometimes, how he could be surrounded by so many people, people he liked , even, and still feel alone.

It was the C he wore on his jersey, but it was more than that, too. The specific pressure of his reputation and the expectations resting on his shoulders. Sometimes Hayes didn’t feel like he could take a breath.

But every time Morgan replied to a text or sent him a stupid picture—this last one of his blurry and out of focus bare feet up on his coffee table—Hayes could breathe a little easier.

“You good?” Jasper asked as he settled down in the seat next to Hayes.

“I should be asking you that,” Hayes said, pulling his earbuds out of his pocket.

Jasper shrugged. “It was a good shot. I’m not torn up about it.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Hayes reassured him. “It was a good game. Tough but we hung in there.”

“Yeah,” Jasper agreed, nodding. “You gonna sleep?”

“I think so,” Hayes said, slipping his earbuds in and pulling his phone out.

What he’d just said to Jasper was almost the exact same thing, word for word, that had been waiting on his phone after the game.

Turned out Morgan was the sort of boyfriend who would, most of the time, give encouraging pep talks.

But he was also the sort of boyfriend who wouldn’t hesitate to call out anyone on Hayes’ team or even Hayes himself if he thought they could be playing better.

Just yesterday, he’d seen a whole string of texts from Morgan after the Flyers game, when they’d been down 1-0 for the first two periods. He’d certainly had a lot of opinions about the lack of offensive drive and Hayes hadn’t even been able to tell him that he’d been wrong.

In fact, that was exactly what he’d told the team during the second intermission. He’d led the way, right out of the gate, scoring in the first minute of the third period to tie it up, and the Sentinels hadn’t looked back after that.

But Morgan had called him out on it. Hadn’t let him slide.

Hayes hadn’t expected that would feel good, but it actually did. Like Morgan was a good boyfriend and Morgan was still Morgan. It was becoming easier and easier to trust that the version he was seeing now was the version he might get forever, if he was lucky enough.

He sent Morgan a test balloon text. U still up? he asked.

I’m not that old , he got back almost immediately.

That was all the motivation that Hayes needed to send the picture he’d taken a few days back, in anticipation of this road trip.

Early morning light streaming in from the windows, making him look tanner and younger, eyes half-lidded, hair messed up from sleep, chest flushed with arousal, hand wrapped around the base of his hard cock.

It was a damn good picture.

Feel like I should do a blood pressure check, just to be sure, he sent and then the picture.

Hayes squirmed in the seat in anticipation, ignoring how Jasper elbowed him half-heartedly.

He clicked over to his white noise, thumb hovering over his usual settings. Wanting to read Morgan’s reaction before he fell asleep.

Morgan never disappointed and he didn’t now.

No fair, angel.

Never promised to play fair. Hayes hesitated, then decided, fuck it , he wasn’t trying to play games here. You like it?

Like it? I fucking love it. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen in my life.