Page 15 of Perfect Storm (Toronto Thunder #1)

For a brief moment, Levi considered telling Aidan that he was also hot. In fact, Levi found him much hotter than Riley. Always had. After all, Aidan wasn’t the copy, he was the original, and Levi didn’t think even Riley could beat him in this particular contest.

“Sure,” Levi said casually.

Aidan looked even more disgruntled, and that was payment enough for not telling Aidan the whole truth. He was always so cute when he was being deliberately thwarted. Levi lived for the way his mouth tilted downward and his blue eyes narrowed intently.

“Back to Lane and Trev—I think we just need to encourage them to communicate,” Wes said firmly.

“I thought I was supposed to be taking it easy on them collectively,” Aidan retorted.

“You are,” Wes said.

“This is like the team for wayward dogs,” Aidan mumbled under his breath. “Next I know, we’re going to be adopting someone with separation anxiety who howls all night.”

Wes elbowed him. “Be nice,” he said.

“Why should I be? You’re nice for all of us. Like, collectively, the QB room is nice because of you. You can keep being good cop and I’ll be bad cop.”

“You’re not actually bad cop,” Levi argued. “You just want to win.”

Aidan smiled then, and that was worth all the annoyed looks put together. Aidan had a fucking great smile. Levi didn’t know why he hadn’t been stuck on it before, but he was now. “You got it,” he said.

And it was fair, because they all wanted to win, but it was pretty much a given that nobody wanted to win as badly as Aidan Flynn did.

Levi, who never wouldn’t have claimed he didn’t want to win, who’d actually spent his six seasons in the NFL working his ass off to get even close to a Vince Lombardi trophy, discovered that he had a new depth of desire for winning that he hadn’t had before.

He wanted to see Aidan’s eyes light up in satisfaction and glory.

He wanted to make it happen.

And he wanted to be right next to him when it did.

It had been a long day. Aidan was tired—bone-tired, really—but his brain was still buzzing, working through all the options and ideas and permutations of the team they’d have during the upcoming season.

He should go to bed, but instead, after taking a long, hot shower, he headed to the couch. Picked up one of the controllers he’d purchased and Levi had set up and flipped on the TV and the system.

He was halfway through the race and losing horribly, tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he tried to concentrate and work the stupid controller faster, when a voice behind him said, “God, you actually do suck at this.”

Aidan risked looking back at Levi, because it wasn’t like he could finish this round any worse than last place. “Hey. Sorry if I’m keeping you up.”

“Couldn’t sleep either,” Levi said and flopped down on the couch next to Aidan. No space between them, Levi’s bare thigh pressing against his sweatpants. God, did Levi own shorts that didn’t expose fucking everything? That didn’t make Aidan want to lean over and get his mouth on all that bare skin?

“You wanna play?” Aidan asked, handing him the controller even though the round hadn’t ended.

Levi shot him a skeptical glance. “No, bro, don’t take this the wrong way, but you need the practice.”

“Ouch,” Aidan retorted.

“Hey, just the voice of truth here,” Levi said. “You really don’t play.” He sounded surprised by this, like Aidan’s lack of gaming system hadn’t been enough to give him away.

“I don’t,” Aidan said. “I’ve been a little busy.”

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Say what?”

“All work and no play makes you a very dull boy,” Levi teased, nudging him with that ridiculously bare thigh. Even worse, he didn’t even move it away after, the line of it hot even through the fabric of his sweatpants.

“I’m not dull,” Aidan argued, even though he kinda was. Boring and over-focused and over-serious. Maybe that was why Mo didn’t—no, no. Aidan cut that thought off fast and ruthlessly. Mo did love him, just not the same way he loved Mo.

Levi looked over at him as the round finally ended, and he came in so far behind the other little cars he should be embarrassed, except that he’d essentially given up halfway through.

“Sure, bro. Not dull. No games for you.” Levi reached out and snagged a second controller. “Come on, I’ve decided I’m gonna take pity on you.”

“Pity?” Aidan squawked.

Levi’s faux frown deepened. “I’m deeply, deeply concerned for you, dude. You need to be better than this. It’s my duty to make that happen.”

“Whatever,” Aidan said, rolling his eyes, but he pressed the button to restart the game.

This time, he didn’t give up halfway through. Levi was way better, no question, but he was slowly getting his feet under him again, remembering how to work the controller. The one thing he didn’t have to worry about were his reaction times. Those, after a lifetime playing football, were stellar.

He just had to figure out how to apply those instincts to the game in front of him.

Second time around, he got closer to beating Levi. Not close but a lot closer.

Third time, he got really fucking close, and it was Levi’s turn to squawk about it.

“Goddamn it, were you faking me out?” Levi demanded as he mashed the shit out of his controller, leaning over and falling halfway into Aidan, which wasn’t distracting at all or anything.

“No, of course not!” Aidan practically yelled back, and a second later after the race ended, Levi barely squeaking out a win, mentally shot a half-hearted apology to his neighbors.

It wasn’t late necessarily, hardly late enough for them to be pissed, but Aidan was sure this was probably the loudest he’d ever been since moving into this building.

“Shit, shit,” Levi said, breathing heavily. He looked over at Aidan, way too close, his eyes sparkling with enjoyment. “Were you seriously having me on?”

“Are you really gonna claim I can’t figure out how to get better? Me?” Aidan questioned.

Levi shrugged, still grinning. “Bro, you were so bad.”

“I’m still not good. Maybe you’re just taking it easy on me.”

“Hardly,” Levi scoffed.

It was dangerous. Aidan could feel it, the pitfalls lighting up in his brain, but it was easier than it should’ve been to pretend they didn’t exist. To lean into what Levi had just claimed he couldn’t and play a little. He pressed the button to restart the round.

This time he had Levi’s number the whole way; how the controller felt in his hands, the way his fingers moved, all gelling again like he’d never stopped.

“Holy shit,” Levi said when the race ended, and Aidan had won by a healthy margin.

Aidan couldn’t resist turning to him. “Eat shit, bro.”

Levi’s jaw dropped. “Are you fucking joking? You must have . . .no.”

“No?” It was impossible to not be a little smug. He was Aidan Flynn, after all, and Riley had claimed more than once that he’d come out of the womb smug.

Contrary to predominant belief, he didn’t lean into that smugness as often as everyone claimed, but he leaned into it now. It felt good, and it felt even better when it lit Levi’s face up with an irresistible combination of indignation and enjoyment.

“You must have . . .ugh. Did you cheat, dude?”

“Cheat?” Aidan laughed, not even offended like he might’ve been, because it was so obvious that Levi didn’t really mean it. “No way. I didn’t need to cheat to beat you.”

Levi choked out a laugh. “Fuck you, bro. Fuck you, bro. Give me another round.”

The planets and stars had aligned during that last one, Aidan finding a Zen-like zone that had guaranteed his win. He wasn’t sure that would happen again, but at least it had happened once.

Aidan restarted the game, and this time it was more neck and neck, Levi clearly making a real effort to win. Aidan couldn’t say he wasn’t trying hard, either. In fact, he could probably say that he was working even harder than he had during the race he’d won.

Then he finally, barely, pulled away, right before the finish line and Levi yelled. Before Aidan could brace himself, Levi was pushing them both off the couch, landing with a breathless gasp-slash-laugh on the ground, cushioned by the plush rug over the hardwood.

“Oh shit, shit,” Aidan gasped, another chuckle escaping him. “You cheated this time.”

Levi stared down at him, licking his lips, and it hit Aidan like a truck. Levi was on top of him, his body blanketing Aidan’s own, his arms braced on either side of Aidan’s head. He was big and solid and warm, those strong thighs pressing into Aidan.

Aidan’s breath caught in his chest. “Cheater,” he repeated, because he was playing, and it felt so good, he didn’t know why he’d stopped. Or when really. After that first Super Bowl win? Before, even?

When he’d lost the constant presence of Landry after college, because he’d apparently relied on his best friend to regularly yank him out of his own ass?

Levi was smiling down at him, like he’d gladly taken his older brother’s mantle. Maybe he didn’t even realize he’d done it. Didn’t even know there was an open position, or that Landry had once slotted in there, as easy as breathing, and there was no question it was going to be Levi, now.

“I had to do something,” Levi claimed. Then his head dipped an inch lower, eyes slipping down to Aidan’s mouth.

Suddenly, Aidan’s tongue was too big for it. Dry and unwieldy.

He’d certainly never wanted to kiss Landry before. The thought had never crossed his mind, not once, but he couldn’t stop catching strays when it came to Levi.

Aidan half expected Levi to finally say something about it. Oh so casually, of course, like, hey, you thinking about Michigan too? Because Aidan was sure as fuck thinking about Michigan.

About what it might’ve been like if he’d drunk like two and a half glasses of whiskey less on the night they’d made s’mores, or if his stupid brother and his even stupider best friend hadn’t been in the house when they’d kissed in the kitchen.

Or if Levi hadn’t had to go to LA so unexpectedly to deal with his contract.

But Levi didn’t say anything. Just kept gazing at him like he was merely enjoying the heat between them and wasn’t particularly wedded to the idea of doing anything about it.

It made Aidan feel insane. Feral. He wanted to push himself up and bite Levi’s bottom lip.

It made him want to do all the things.

But he wouldn’t, because while he felt insane, he wasn’t insane.

Instead, he gathered his strength and pushed Levi off.

If Levi was disappointed, it didn’t show. He just laughed again.

Meanwhile, Aidan was having trouble hiding his own disappointment. Why else push him off the couch and full-body tackle him to the ground if Levi wasn’t interested in doing anything about it?

Levi rolled over onto his side and just looked at Aidan, like Aidan was supposed to know what the fuck that look meant. He was a quarterback, not a mind reader.

“Why am I not surprised that you doing something was tackling me off the couch?” Aidan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Levi just shrugged. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like the last time they’d been this close they hadn’t been kissing. Except they had been.

“What else did you want me to do?” Levi was talking around it again, and that made Aidan want to grind his molars in frustration.

Don’t say kiss me, don’t say kiss me, don’t say kiss me.

He really wanted to say kiss me, but Aidan didn’t. Barely.

“I don’t know.” If Levi could be nebulous, then so could Aidan.

“You really hate losing, don’t you?” Levi seemed amused and maybe even surprised by this. And he shouldn’t be. Aidan was Aidan. He could say a lot of things about himself—and plenty of other people had said their share, too—but at least he was consistent about it.

“Even at Mario Kart, sure,” Aidan said. Also when you act like you want to kiss me and then don’t. That definitely felt like losing.

“You’re ridiculous,” Levi said, getting to his feet then, like Aidan was the one who was letting this thing hang in the air between them without actually naming it.

Aidan could name it, no problem. It was sex, plain and simple.

But then, hadn’t they said a year in their pact? They had, but that was before Levi had ended up in Toronto. He couldn’t really believe that Aidan would need a year to think about Levi and only Levi in his bed.

He knew for a certainty that was not going to be a problem.

Levi didn’t say anything, but he didn’t leave either. Instead he flopped himself right back on the couch, where he’d been sitting before losing and then almost losing again.

For a second full of intense contemplation, Aidan actually considered saying it.

I know we said a year, but I’ve changed my mind.

Let’s make it sooner. Way sooner. But he didn’t.

It was going to be so awkward—like he was practically begging for Levi’s dick; like Levi’s dick was freaking life-changing or something—if he said it first.

An annoyingly perverse part of Aidan wanted Levi to be the one to stick his neck out, even though he already had. Even though he wasn’t sure that hooking up was even a particularly good idea. But it was impossible to deny that it was also the best goddamn idea that anyone had ever had.

Instead, he picked up his controller and looked over at Levi. “Wanna go again?” he asked, swallowing down everything else he wanted—and didn’t want—to say.

Levi’s glance over at him was knowing and mischievous. “You really want to take me again?”

Oh boy, did he.

Aidan took a deep breath. “Sure,” he said. “What did you say? It was your duty to help me get better?”

“Oh yeah, bro. For sure.” Levi was laughing again, now, and Aidan did not remind him—because he was apparently a fucking saint—of what else Levi had decided it was his duty to do.

“I swear to God I’m going to get one of those buzzers and smash it every single fucking time you call me bro,” Aidan said.

“Aw, you love it!” Levi crowed.

Aidan didn’t know which was worse: that it was true or that Levi had guessed the truth.

“Don’t worry,” Levi said, leaning over, his lips practically brushing Aidan’s neck, “I know when to use it and when not to.”

Aidan knew what he was talking about. Levi for sure knew what the fuck he was talking about. So why didn’t he just bluntly say it? I know not to use it when we’re in bed together. Like we’re gonna be. Soon.

He wanted to scream. To throw his controller down and say, I give up, actually. I will totally say it first. Screw looking desperate and pathetic. But he didn’t.

He calmly and reasonably nodded and restarted the game.

And beat Levi, again.