Page 44 of Perfect Storm (Toronto Thunder #1)

It was in the middle of the third quarter when Mo sidled over to where Aidan was standing. Zane had told him to not even bother dressing. Wes was going to play the whole first half and their-third string backup, Nelson Perez, was going to play the second half.

Aidan wouldn’t be on the field except on the sidelines, and then only in an advisory capacity.

He’d argued that he and Mo should both get out there, at least for one series, to shake the rust off. But Zane had just shot him an incredulous look. “You’ve got rust?” he’d asked.

And okay, that was a little ridiculous. He didn’t have any rust. Mo probably had even less, but then he’d actually played in the Rams’ first preseason game.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s up with you?” Mo asked as Perez bent down, taking the snap.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aidan said.

“Yeah, dude, you know. You’re . . .like lighter. It’s good. I’m happy for you.”

Part of Aidan—a much tinier part than had existed in early July—wanted to say, yeah, you only knew me eating my heart out over you for so long, you don’t even know what me being happy looks like. But that wasn’t Mo’s fault. It had never been Mo’s fault.

“I feel good,” Aidan said.

Perez hit one of the backup tight ends for a twelve-yard gain, and Aidan listened in on his headset as Zane called in a running play.

Once Aidan’s initial freakout had ended, once he’d actually had a moment to think about what Mo being here meant—and once he’d actually seen him again—he’d relaxed.

Could even say now that this was good. He’d get Mo on the field again, giving him more options in the passing game, and he’d get his friendship off the field.

And this time, his brain and his heart wouldn’t be confused about what he wanted or what he was getting.

He’d know it was friendship and only friendship.

He was even considering telling him at some point, in the long-off faraway future, about what had happened with Levi. What was happening with Levi.

Mo was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke up again. “I actually thought you might not want me here.”

Aidan didn’t know what to say. At least he knew what he shouldn’t say: that at the very beginning, during his initial freakout, he kinda hadn’t.

Zane called another passing play, and Aidan focused on Perez, watching as the ball snapped. It was a good distraction; gave him another twenty seconds to figure out what the fuck he was supposed to say.

It didn’t help. He still didn’t have the words, but he’d try anyway, because Mo was a friend and he deserved some kind of answer.

“I—”

But Mo interrupted him before he could put together a coherent thought that wasn’t a lie.

“I know you asked for space. I wanted to give it to you, but when they told me I could come back—it was all I could think about. It was all I wanted. And when Toronto met the Rams’ offer?

I just wanted you to be happy about it. ’Cause I was happy.

Feel like I’ve been trying to get back home for ages. ”

“You have,” Aidan said.

“So yeah, maybe it was selfish,” Mo said, shrugging. “You can tell me it was selfish.”

“I promise you, it’s okay,” Aidan said, patting him on the shoulder. They’d hugged when Mo had first arrived, but he’d gone out of his way to avoid touching him. For his own peace of mind, but also because he wasn’t stupid. Even if it was only sex to Levi, this had to be awkward for him, too.

But Levi was on the field and wouldn’t be able to see this.

“Good.” Mo looked relieved. “I just . . .I just want things to be the same again.”

“Yeah, me too, bud,” Aidan said and patted him again.

What he didn’t say was that he already knew they wouldn’t ever be the same again. Too many things had changed. He was no longer keeping his feelings secret. Mo knew about them. Then there was Levi. Mo didn’t know about his feelings for him.

Because Aidan was pretty sure that was what this was. It felt different than it had with Mo. Maybe that was because Mo was such a different person than Levi. Maybe it was the fact he hadn’t pined for ages before actually confessing them.

But Aidan couldn’t deny anymore that he felt something.

The third quarter ended, and Levi came off the field, Zane subbing in one of the backup offensive linemen for the last few drives.

Aidan went to check in on him on the bench, not just because he should as the starting QB but because he wanted to.

“Good work out there,” Aidan said as he approached.

Levi glanced up as he shot a stream of Gatorade in his mouth.

Aidan had spent way too many fucking years around sweaty guys, but he had to admit he’d never found it appealing. Not once, not until now.

Now, he wanted to lean in and lick the sweat off Levi’s tanned neck.

“Thanks,” Levi said.

Things between them had been a little shaky since Mo’s return, but Aidan wasn’t surprised.

At least Levi hadn’t left his bed. If he’d returned to the guest room, Aidan would’ve been actually concerned, but instead, it felt like more and more of Levi’s possessions were finding their way into Aidan’s bedroom.

First it had been the phone charger. Then an old Seattle sweatshirt, draped haphazardly over the bench at the end of the bed. And then his iPad, on the bedside table. His pillows, moving from the guest room to Aidan’s room.

He’d say something, but to his own surprise, he found he liked it. Like Levi was wordlessly staking his claim.

“You were right,” Aidan said. It was funny; he’d shied away from speaking his truths forever, but once the dam had broken, he couldn’t seem to stop.

Levi grinned. “Oh, I’m sorry, what was that, bro?”

“You heard me.” Aidan nudged him with his knee.

“Maybe I just wanna hear it some more,” Levi teased.

Aidan leaned in. Instructed himself very firmly not to cross a line and get too close, no matter how much he wanted to. “I can arrange that,” he said. “Tonight?”

“What’s the play?” Levi asked, eyes gleaming.

“You. Me. In bed. Me, telling you how right you were about getting fucked.”

Levi licked his lips. “I’m down.”

“Had a feeling you might be,” Aidan said, straightening. Trying not to sound smug and mostly failing. He’d never imagine telling Levi that he was right—about more than one thing—would be as hot as it was.

“Hell yeah,” Levi said, falling just short of an actual fist pump. Like Aidan was everything he’d ever wanted.

“And,” Aidan said with faux-seriousness, “you were right about playing left tackle, too.”

Levi was going to kill him, but Aidan was pretty sure that if he did, he’d die a very happy man.

Even though he hadn’t even played in the game, the reporters had wanted to talk to him. So there’d been that delay, and then Aidan had needed to do his good leader-slash-QB1 act, talking to every guy, even the guys who definitely weren’t going to make the fifty-three-man roster.

Levi couldn’t be surprised, but every time their eyes met across the locker room, he could practically feel Levi’s eagerness and his hunger, rolling off him in waves.

Aidan finished talking to Nathan, the backup center, who’d blocked for Wes and Perez today, trying to ignore the way Levi’s foot was tapping on the ground, just a few lockers over.

Levi wasn’t even bothering to not look impatient.

Anyone who noticed no doubt thought that the reason was because Aidan was giving him a ride home, but the truth was, Levi was probably impatient for a whole different kind of ride.

Just the thought made Aidan go hot and cold all over.

He was absolutely gonna give Levi shit about this later.

Maybe make him beg a little more about it. Now that was a thought. But before Aidan could spend any more time on it, he realized he’d moved on to the next set of guys.

Wes and Nelson Perez.

“Great game, guys. Solid team win,” Aidan said, holding his hand out. Perez gave him a bro hug, which was exactly the right move, since they weren’t any more than semi-friendly teammates, but Wes ignored his outstretched hand and pulled him into a real hug.

It made Aidan want to smile, but he scowled instead.

Couldn’t let Wes figure out that he liked him. Because if he did, he’d never leave him alone.

“You’re doing the rounds,” Wes said, as Perez finished getting dressed.

“Yeah,” Aidan said. Didn’t say, you should be too, but only because Wes already knew. Aidan had seen him on the sideline, during the fourth quarter, working the o-line guys. Checking in with all the second-string skill players.

If Zane hadn’t already told Aidan that Wes was going to get the official backup spot, then he’d guess that Wes’ performance today—and not just on the field, but off it, too—had sealed that deal.

Perez would head to the practice squad, lying there in wait if anything happened to either of them.

Aidan felt a little bad about it, but it was also just the way the NFL worked, and if he cried about every unfair thing they endured, he’d never stop.

“Sucks that some of these guys aren’t going to be here,” Wes said quietly.

“It’s that way every year,” Aidan pointed out. Wes was still young and sentimental. Aidan had been forced to ruthlessly cut out much of his football romanticism. Sports was a business, as much as any other job.

“Levi waiting on you?” Wes asked, his voice dropping even further, glancing over to where Levi was still not pretending to do anything but look at Aidan.

Aidan nodded. It was on the tip of his tongue, the sudden desire to ask about Wes’ ex. The one he was still hung up on. How did you know he wasn’t the one? Or that he was, and that’s why you can’t move on?

But Wes had never even told Aidan the ex’s name, and Aidan supposed that wasn’t surprising, because he’d never done anything more than barely tolerate Wes’ existence.

For legitimate reasons, sure, but he couldn’t expect Wes to suddenly be his friend. Even if he was beginning to wonder if maybe he should be.

“Don’t fuck that up,” Wes said under his breath.

Aidan wasn’t sure at first that he’d heard correctly. “What?”