Page 9 of Breakaway Goals

Hayes felt like he hadn’t been able to take a deep breath since yesterday.

Since the game. Since the elevator.

Then today, Morgan had done all the other normal Morgan things while also cranking it up another notch. Flirting. Teasing. Egging him on. Calling him baby , twice.

If Hayes pressed his palms to his cheeks, he knew he’d feel his heartbeat, careening out of control.

“You okay?” Danny leaned over right into his space.

Morgan was sitting across the table, and for a second after he’d snagged that seat at dinner, Hayes had almost been disappointed. But I want to sit next to you. Feel your shoulder press into mine.

But instead Danny had taken that spot. Annoyingly.

At Danny’s question, Morgan looked up from his plate, where he was cutting his chicken.

“I’m fine,” Hayes said. But was he? He was slowly going out of his mind, alternating between total panic and total exhilaration. Maybe he was reading the signs wrong, or maybe Morgan hadn’t meant to send any signs, but he didn’t think so.

The baby had sealed it.

“You don’t seem fine,” Danny said. His gaze narrowed and that teasing, knowing expression that never boded well when it was on Danny’s face, emerged. “You seem kinda . . .hot.”

“Oh. Uh. No.”

It was early February in Toronto. Hot was something he wasn’t.

Unless Danny was talking about the raging inferno inside him whenever he thought of Morgan calling him baby , and the possibility that he might do it again.

Softer this time, and more earnest, pressing him next to his hotel room door . . .

“You look hot,” Danny leered.

“Stop it,” Hayes said, smacking him on the arm. “Nobody wants to know about your secret crush on me.”

He’d learned, a long time ago, how much easier it was to go on the offensive sometimes. To push back on guys who tried to make him uncomfortable.

Not that he really thought Danny was doing it on purpose.

“We really don’t,” Morgan said through clenched teeth.

If Hayes hadn’t been present for his own accidental coming out, he’d have assumed Morgan’s discomfort was about the possibility a guy might have a secret crush on another guy, but he knew Morgan better than to believe that was true.

So what was he pissed about? About Danny hitting on him, in the most straight-bro way ever? That was ridiculous.

“How about your secret crushes, Mo?”

Morgan rolled his eyes. “You are the most outrageous person I know.”

“And you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Hayes laughed at the disgruntled face Morgan made.

“Are we gonna go out tonight?” Danny asked, changing the subject.

“We have a game tomorrow,” Hayes pointed out. “Against Finland.”

“Yeah, Danny. You do remember you’re here to play, not to party, right?”

Danny ran a hand through his wild blond curls. “Yeah, I did get that memo, Captain and Captain’s shadow.”

“I’m not—” Hayes protested, suddenly flustered and unable to hide it.

“No, you’re just a very good boy. No wonder Morgan likes you so much.” Danny flashed Hayes a toothy grin.

“I like that he doesn’t want to go out and get drunk the night before a game,” Morgan said.

Hayes knew Morgan’s praise shouldn’t hit him as hard as it did. But it was impossible not to feel the thrill of it.

“Too bad,” Danny said.

“You’re not still—”

But Morgan didn’t get even half his admonishing question out before Danny just shook his head. “No. No. I hear Cal’s getting up a Mario Kart tournament. You two in?”

Hayes didn’t want to play video games. He still wanted to curl up in his bed with the trashiest TV he could find. Try to go to sleep early, be extra ready for the game tomorrow. The Finns weren’t going to go down easy. They never did.

But Morgan nodded and then turned to Hayes. “You in?”

How was Hayes supposed to say no when Morgan asked him? Not especially nicely, but with that extra affectionate glow that Hayes might or might not be wishfully making up in his hazel eyes?

Which was how he ended up pressed up against Noah with Danny on his other side, lying on the floor next to one of Calvin’s beds, as Morgan kicked Bram’s ass in Mario Kart.

Jacob wandered in at one point—the tournament had grown big enough they’d ended up split between two rooms—but hadn’t stayed, which was better for everyone, because Hayes hadn’t missed how Morgan’s back tensed even as he tried to clear the sour expression off his face.

When Bram finally lost, chucking his controller onto the bed in frustration, Morgan was laughing, as relaxed as Hayes had seen him since the tournament had started.

“How did you get so damned good at this?” Bram whined.

“You guys forget I’ve got a sixteen-year-old son?”

“How is Finn?” someone asked.

“Good. Good. I’ve been trying to get him into the juniors draft, but he keeps saying he wants to do the program and then a few years of college.” Morgan made a frustrated noise and ran a hand through his hair. “You know how they are, always wanting to pave their own path.”

“If he wants to be smart, let him be smart,” Danny teased. “He’s gonna be smarter than you, at any rate.”

“Not that hard for him to get there,” Morgan said, smiling even as he ducked his head.

A few minutes later the party broke up, and Hayes found himself on the way back to his room with Morgan.

Hayes pointed out, trying not to stammer with nerves, wondering what was happening—if anything would happen, that the elevator to Morgan’s floor was the opposite direction.

“Shush, now you’re gonna make me feel even worse,” Morgan joked, knocking their shoulders together. “I wanted to tell you something.”

Hayes’ breath caught in his throat. Tried not to gaze up at Morgan with that same hero-struck expression he knew he wore around him so much of the fucking time. Wasn’t quite sure he pulled it off.

“What is it?”

Morgan chuckled. “Just something I talked about with Danny today. You know he . . .” He paused awkwardly. “I thought you should know that he’s uh . . .guessed about you.”

“Oh. Oh .” This was not even in the realm of what Hayes had expected him to say.

They stopped in front of Hayes’ door. Hayes shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, feeling for his key. Dug the edges of the plastic card into his palm and tried to calm his breathing.

This wasn’t Morgan saying anything specifically. This was only Morgan trying to be a good teammate. A good captain. Keeping him informed and all that jazz.

“I didn’t confirm anything,” Morgan said seriously. “I just thought you should be aware.”

“Okay. Um. I don’t mind. I kind of assumed he’d guessed. With the whole secret crush thing. And there was a lot of talk in the program.” He’d been kind of an open secret there. A lot of guys were, including Zach, even though he’d ended up going to college instead of staying in.

“Right. Well.” Morgan lingered, even though it was clear he didn’t really have a reason to.

Hayes wanted to invite him in, but he didn’t know what they’d even do—besides the obvious, and he wasn’t even sure if Morgan wanted that. He looked more awkward than turned on right now, if he was being honest.

“I really don’t mind, but I appreciate you telling me,” Hayes said, reaching out and squeezing Morgan’s forearm, and didn’t let go even though he knew he should. “Danny’s more circumspect than he seems, at the outset.”

“I hope so,” Morgan said under his breath.

“He’s probably suspected about me for years, and it’s not like he’s outed me in that time,” Hayes reassured.

“I just . . .I worried.” Morgan looked worried. Conflicted, even, a crease between his brows that Hayes wanted to lean in and smooth out with his fingertips.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

Morgan’s gaze flicked up and down, and Hayes went cold and then very hot. He hadn’t really meant to flirt this time. Not late at night, because even in the fluorescent light of the quiet hotel hallway, the air between them felt intimate. Private.

“Believe me, I know,” Morgan said softly.

If Hayes wasn’t knee-deep in some kind of fantasy-fulfillment right now, he might think Morgan swayed an inch or two closer. At the very least, he should stop touching Morgan. It had gone on way longer than it already should’ve, but instead, he curled his fingers around his forearm.

There was a thick layer of sweatshirt between his skin and Morgan’s, but just like in that empty hallway during the second intermission against Sweden, it felt like nothing.

Like Hayes could already feel him.

Like Morgan wanted to be felt.

He certainly hadn’t tugged himself away, either, even though there was no reason to stay.

There was a part of Hayes that wanted to cut through all the haze and ask bluntly, what are we doing? What are you doing? But if he did that might spook Morgan, and God knew, if Hayes never got anything else but this, he was going to hold on to this scrap forever.

“I was unfair to you,” Morgan said, still very quiet. “When we met.”

They’d run into each other casually, incidentally, so many times. It was impossible not to. But yes, this tournament was the first time they’d exchanged more than just basic pleasantries. Morgan must be talking about the first day they’d been here.

“It’s awkward, everyone talking about how I’m the new you,” Hayes soothed.

It was awkward, too, being the person doing the replacing.

“Not just that.” Morgan huffed out a breath. He was so close Hayes could feel it against his cheek. “You made me feel old.”

“You must’ve hated that.” It was actually a fucking miracle Morgan had given him even a passing consideration if that was really true.

“I didn’t love it.”

“What do I make you think now?” Hayes knew he shouldn’t push. But he gazed up at Morgan and hoped his eyes said what he really meant. Tell me something else. Something better.

Morgan swayed closer. Or maybe that was Hayes. They were rapidly running up against the point of no return. Hayes knew it. Morgan had to know it too. They couldn’t be this close in a hotel hallway for this long without eventually getting interrupted.