Page 78 of Breakaway Goals

That didn’t mean he hadn’t worked Hayes’ last nerve more than once.

Or that he wasn’t working it now.

“Come on,” Barty wheedled. “Don’t tell me this isn’t the fucking life.”

Hayes looked around, and it was hard not to be impressed—theywereon a fucking boat, a boat possibly big enough to be characterized as a yacht, even—but there was no way in hell he was going to give Barty the satisfaction.

“It’s the life. Good to know my blood and sweat bought this for you,” Hayes retorted.

Barty rolled his eyes, his blond curls ruffling in the breeze, Ray-Bans covering his eyes. You could take the guy out ofMassachusetts but you could never fully exorcise the Masshole out of the man.

“Bit egotistical to think it wasjustyour blood and sweat,” Barty said. “It was lots of guys’ blood and sweat. But I’m glad you brought that up, because we should talk about your contract.”

“Do we have to?” Hayes took a sip of his virgin mojito. He tried not to drink much during the season, though every time he saw his agent, he was reminded of why that was a really shitty idea.

And every time he thought about running into Morgan again? Even shittier.

“It’s what you pay me for,” Barty said pragmatically. “We’ve opened negotiations. You want the dirty details or just the summary?”

“God, just the summary.” He knew the Sentinels had every intention of signing him again. They wouldn’t have given him the C three years ago if they didn’t want him to stick around. If he was lucky—and he was pretty sure he’d done what he needed to do to make his own luck these days—he’d play out the rest of his career here in Tampa.

But the details, those were why he had Barty.

“Okay, they’re low-balling me, but that’s to be expected,” Barty said, not sounding overly concerned as he sipped his pretentious espresso martini.

“Isn’t that how it always works?” Hayes asked.

Barty shrugged. “Yes and no. They wouldn’t want to give away that they want you wrapped up, but obviously they do. But I didn’t expect them to start so low.”

A frisson of worry shimmered in his stomach. Hayes set down his drink. “Is that concerning?”

“Not necessarily. You want to win another Cup. So do they. That takes money. Cap space. Draft capital.”

“Right.” Hayes knew that, which was why he’d never cared if he was the highest-paid player or whatever. He’d take a little less, to keep playing for a contender.

“But I didn’t expect them to start this low. It’s fine. They’re going to come up. They’re going to throw in sweeteners. Did you know you’re top five in jersey sales?”

Hayes shook his head. “Not bad for a gay guy not from Canada,” he said, chuckling self-deprecatingly.

“I’m not trying to freak you out,” Barty said, which wasalwayswhat he said when the news was not good, “but if things continue this direction, we may need to test out free agency.”

“Isn’t that months away?” Hayes tried to keep the panic out of his voice. “The season just started! It’s not even November yet.”

“I know,” Barty soothed.

“I thought you told me it was going to be fine. Last time we talked, you said,it’s gonna be just fine, Monty. They want you. We’re gonna keep you here. And now all of a sudden I have to go on the open market?”

“It’s gonna be fine. I expect they’ll see reason. This is why you pay me. But I thought you should know,” Barty said calmly.

Hayes wanted to be pissed off, but it wasn’t Barty’s fault. This wasn’t exactly a “dirty detail.”

“I’m glad you told me.” He was trying to be diplomatic, but it wasn’t easy. Didn’t he have enough on his plate with a captainship and a rookie goalie and a rookie goalie’s father that he couldn’t seem to avoid?

“No, you want to yell at me,” Barty said knowingly, laughing now like this whole thing was actually funny.

Hayes shot him a faux-glare as he stood up, walking over to the deck railing. “Kinda, yeah.”

“Listen. I’m gonna do my job, you do your job.” Barty paused and actually set his drink down and got to his feet, joining Hayes at the railing. “And you’re already doing it, man. You keepthese kind of numbers up, they’re going to be slobbering all over themselves to re-sign you.”