Page 29 of Perfect Storm (Toronto Thunder #1)

Levi was prepared for Aidan to continue acting at practices that Levi moving to left tackle was a bad idea.

But when they lined up for their first play of the day, the day after they’d argued and then hooked up, Aidan only gave him a nod of approval as Levi took his spot to the left of Griff.

Like Levi had expected, it went better than it had been yesterday. He was more prepared, slightly more at ease in the new position. Everything he’d hoped from the additional reps.

On the fourth run-through, Aidan got a full five count before he had to throw, and he hit Trevor on a deep crossing pattern, the guy sprinting the ten remaining yards to the end zone.

“Well,” Aidan said to Levi when they returned to the huddle, “can’t argue with that.”

Levi only grinned. “Told you,” he said.

It wasn’t perfect. There were still kinks to work out, problems to fix. But they were smaller. Less impactful. More the regular kinds of problems that every football team had in the preseason, when they were still trying to find their chemistry and gel on the field.

Levi wasn’t surprised when after two touchdowns on two successful series, Zane subbed Wes in to get him some reps with the first team offense.

Levi watched as Aidan retreated to the sideline, setting down his helmet, pushing his hair back.

He had great hair. Levi wished he’d gotten more of a chance to touch it last night. But he hadn’t wanted to scare Aidan away or freak him out. He’d been trying to be careful, to not put too much on Aidan, even though there was so much he’d wanted.

It had killed him, a little, to pull back, but he’d done it because that was preferable to Aidan deciding they were never going to do it again.

“Something over there look good?”

Levi jumped a little and turned to find Wes smirking at him.

“No,” he lied.

Wes shot him a knowing look. “Yeah, okay, dude. Keep your secrets.”

“Like you keep yours?”

Wes’ expression turned almost melancholy. “You’ve not been around long enough to know anything about them,” he said primly.

That was true. But Levi did know that around a football team, secrets didn’t tend to stay secret very long.

“Give me some time,” Levi promised, but Wes only rolled his eyes.

“How did we end up talking about me, when I wanna talk about you and QB1 over there?” Wes asked. “’Cause don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve got your head on a swivel when it comes to him.”

“We’re weirdly related,” Levi said.

“Yeah, okay,” Wes scoffed. “That’s what you’re going with?”

Levi wasn’t going to out Aidan to his team. Even to his backup quarterback. Aidan deserved to have the coming out that he wanted—if he wanted it at all.

“Hey, you have Flynn as your older brother’s boyfriend’s older brother and see how you feel about it,” Levi retorted.

Wes frowned. “That’s . . .no. You’re actually not kidding.”

“I’m not,” Levi said. That much was the truth.

“Huh. Well.” Wes seemed lost for words.

“Exactly,” Levi said smugly. “Hey, I was thinking something though.”

“What?”

“Don’t let Aidan push you off, not give you the mentorship you need, okay?”

Wes did not roll his eyes again, but Levi could tell it took effort. “Are you actually serious?”

“Hey, you gotta demand what you want from the world. Don’t wait for it to come to you,” Levi said.

“Is that your life philosophy?” Wes cracked a smile, but he seemed genuinely interested. Levi liked Wes; could imagine that it probably wasn’t easy being Aidan Flynn’s backup.

“Yeah, usually,” Levi admitted.

He went after things he wanted. And he usually got what he wanted. He’d decided a long time ago those things were probably related.

Except two months ago in Michigan, Levi had realized he wanted Aidan and he’d not taken him. He’d wanted him the night he showed up in Toronto, and he’d taken a step back instead. Not invited Aidan to his bed, the way he’d been thinking about.

He’d wanted every day since then, too, and only made a move when it was clear Aidan was actually on the same page.

It wasn’t the only time Levi had waited for someone else to decide, but it was unusual enough, it felt prickly under his skin, still.

Like it meant something. Levi just wasn’t quite ready to face quite what that was, yet.

Zane came up then, ready to restart practice, and Levi turned towards him, pushing the pesky annoying thoughts of Aidan out of his head. He didn’t need the distraction, especially not now.

They got through practice and headed in for lunch. With preseason games well underway and everyone’s conditioning sufficiently tested, they didn’t have an afternoon practice—just positional meetings and film study.

Which meant Levi didn’t see Aidan until they met up late in the afternoon at the car for their drive back to the condo.

“Hey,” Aidan said, patting him on the shoulder. Levi had noticed that he was slowly becoming a little more touchy-feely. Like it took him some time to warm up to the idea of casual touches. And knowing what he knew about Aidan, that wasn’t really much of a surprise.

“Hey, bro,” Levi said, grinning. Specifically hoping that maybe dropping Aidan’s least favorite nickname might rile him up enough to guarantee more orgasms at home.

Aidan did roll his eyes. “You keep thinking that’s gonna piss me off, huh?”

“Not even,” Levi said. It was probably good Aidan hadn’t figured out yet that Levi was doing it on purpose. That teasing Aidan had its own reward system built in.

“I was thinking,” Aidan said as he slid into the driver’s seat, “we could grab some dinner on the way home.”

It was a very casual invitation. They were both still in shorts and T-shirts. Levi decided after a fraught half second that it wasn’t a date. Nothing about this screamed date, the least of which was Aidan’s own entirely relaxed expression. It didn’t mean anything. Just dinner.

And maybe if Levi got him worked up enough during dinner, orgasms after.

“Sure, that sounds like a plan,” Levi said. “Where’re you thinking?”

“Oh, I got a place.” Aidan shot him a sideways look, which might have been normal for everyone else but was downright playful for Aidan.

“You do?” Levi would teach this guy to flirt with him if it killed him in the process.

“Dude, I’ve lived here for ten years. Yeah, I’ve got a place.”

It turned out that he did.

Levi was still trying to get his bearings in Toronto—he was lucky that up until now, he’d had no reason to take his car out of the parking space in the condo’s garage—but he was getting more familiar with the drive to and from the practice facility just outside of downtown.

He noticed when, about ten minutes away from the condo, Aidan took an exit off the freeway and, after winding through some residential neighborhoods, pulled down a side street and parked.

The pizza parlor was small, and while not on the trendiest-looking street in the world, the front window was sparkling clean, framed in red-and-white checked curtains.

Moretti’s, the gold script on the door declared.

“You eat pizza?” Levi joked as Aidan led him inside the restaurant. It smelled incredible—the richness of tomato and roasted garlic, cut through with the acidic freshness of herbs.

“On special occasions,” Aidan said, the corner of his mouth tilting up.

And Levi had to suddenly wonder if this was a date, and somehow he’d missed all the signs. Of course Aidan wouldn’t date like anyone normal. Normally Levi liked that Aidan didn’t go about anything in a remotely standard way, but not being sure of where exactly they stood made him nervous.

They’d said they’d have sex. They’d had sex. What was next? Obviously more sex, and Levi had assumed they’d keep hanging out as friends, like they had been, but now that the line was crossed, everything felt murky and gray.

The restaurant was cute but simple. Straightforward.

Half a dozen tables, all covered in the same red-and-white check as the curtains, shakers of parmesan and red pepper flakes on the tables, a wine rack on one side, the scuffed wood making it clear it was actually used and not just here for decoration.

“Yo, Aidan’s here,” a voice from the back called out as Aidan walked them deeper in. No Italian accent—in fact, they didn’t even sound particularly Canadian, either. American, too, if Levi had to guess.

“Hey,” Aidan called back. “I’m gonna grab a table.” It was still early—barely five—and only one of the six tables was occupied, by an older couple who didn’t seem to recognize Aidan.

Aidan picked a table towards the back and sat with his own back towards the rest of the room. Not surprising.

Even at the end of his tenure in Seattle, Levi hadn’t been very easily recognized on the street. He’d understood that was a piece of luck, because he knew how often Landry—and now Riley—were stopped by fans and non-fans alike.

Levi sat down opposite. “So what’s the scoop?” he asked.

Aidan regarded him steadily, the look in his blue eyes easy and not too serious for once. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Levi waved around the room, “what’s the deal with this place? Not the kind of dinner spot I’d imagine Aidan Flynn eats at.”

“Exactly,” Aidan said wryly. “But no, it’s seriously the best pizza in town, and even better, the guy who runs it is chill. My old backup used to come here all the time and got me coming here too.”

A tall dark-haired man with a gorgeous face sauntered over, white T-shirt clinging to pecs and biceps and, ignoring Aidan, gave Levi an up-and-down look. “Hey, who’s this?” he asked.

Aidan chuckled. “Hey, Dom. This is Levi, a friend and a new teammate. Had to bring him to try the best pizza in town.”

Dom’s dark eyebrow arched. “Then why’d it take you so long to come see me? You’ve been back in the Six for ages, dude.”

“Training. You know how it goes. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d be here every week, you know that.”

“You athletes,” Dom said with a resigned sigh. “Depressing.”

“You can’t tell me Jones and Reynolds or, God forbid, Matthews or Marner come here regularly,” Aidan said.