Page 80 of Breakaway Goals

The last thing he wanted was for Zach to be proven right so he dialed his number, hitting the video button.

Zach was in his office when he picked up. “Hey,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You okay?”

Hayes rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. It’s my day off. Slept in. Worked out. Had a lunch meeting with Barty on his yacht. Now I’m relaxing by the pool. I promise I’m not putting up a murder wall with Morgan’s face in the middle of it.”

Not actually, anyway, but he might’ve constructed one—or ten—in his mind.

“If you ever do snap, please call me. I willgladlyhelp you get rid of the body,” Zach said earnestly.

Hayes wanted to protest, but he was touched, always, by how much Zach cared about him. “Thanks, Zachy.”

“I mean it, he fucks with you at all, I’m there.”

“You’ve got a job and a hot boyfriend. I’m fine.”So fucking fine.

“A hot boyfriend who happens to be my boss and the head coach, who would totally let me leave,” Zach pointed out.

“I appreciate the concern, but again, I amfine.”

Zach frowned. “Except your face is doing that thing where it doesn’t match your eyes. Is it really terrible? You didn’t tell me what happened after Finn’s debut. Did you run into him? Was he an ass? Did he pretend he didn’t even know you?”

It might have been easier—and a blow to the ego, too, though it wasn’t like Hayes hadn’t been taking those regularly for the last six years—if Morgan had pretended that they didn’t know each other. Instead, he’d looked sad and torn and almost regretful.

And that was way fucking worse.

“No, he was . . .he wasn’t bad,” Hayes said.

Zach’s frown deepened. “What does that mean?”

“It means, he’s trying to be a good father to Finn and I don’t know . . .generally not an asshole,” Hayes said.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Yeah.” Not in as many words, but it turned out that being fluent in Morgan Reynolds wasn’t something you forgot, even after six years.

“You’re not gonna—” Zach stopped abruptly. “Youwouldn’t.”

Hayes knew exactly what his best friend was worried about. That Morgan might express just enough regret that he’d start to look really good again.

But what Zach didn’t know was that he’dneverstopped looking good to Hayes. Not ever. Not even when they’d played each other and Morgan had stared right through him, like he wasn’t even there. No matter how acute the humiliation was, that helovedthis complete asshole and he could still pretend that Hayes didn’t even exist, nobody had ever looked better.

Maybe it was because Hayes knew who Morgan was, deep down, better than anyone else. He’d seen further inside him than anybody Morgan had ever allowed before. Morgan didn’t have to tell him that was true for Hayes toknowit was true.

He’d picked hockey over Hayes, and Hayes couldn’t even hate him for that, because if you knew Morgan, nothing about that decision was particularly surprising.

“Am I going to hook up with him again? No. Of course not.” But he’d wondered, after their run-in in the bathroom. He hadn’t seen Morgan in person since he’d retired, and he’d been . . .different two nights ago. Retirement, especially when you were as committed to a career as Morgan had been, was bound to change you, but Morgan had seemed fundamentally altered.

Softer and more vulnerable, yes, but it wasn’t like Hayes hadn’t known those parts of Morgan existed. Six years ago, he’d dug down deep into him then put his hands on them and tested their veracity. But two nights ago, they’d seemed a lot closer to the surface. Easy to spot, if you were looking. Hayes was stupid, so of course he was looking.

“Hayes,” Zach warned. “I know you—”

Yeah, they were not going down this path. It was hard enough not thinking of the attractive qualities it might possess without Zach insisting they talk about it. Hayes changed the subject, instead. Sort of, anyway.

“Barty is worried about my contract extension,” Hayes said.

Normally, this would not be a subject change he welcomed, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“What?” Zach sounded shocked. “Why?”