Page 48 of Perfect Storm (Toronto Thunder #1)

The kind of thing that had been his and Mo’s bread and butter in their heyday.

“Hey, you’re Aidan Flynn. Isn’t that how it works?” Mo asked.

It was funny how Aidan loved and kind of hated the guy in equal measures. “No pressure or anything,” he huffed.

Zane called in the play. Slant to Trevor, with optional curl pattern to Lane. One of those double tight end patterns they’d been working on during camp and preseason.

“You fucking love the pressure,” Mo said, shooting him the kind of smile that had always lit Aidan up inside like a pinball machine. The smile was the same, but his reaction wasn’t. Instead of a white-hot heat, it was more like a friendly comfortable warmth.

This isn’t the time, Flynn. It’s go time.

Aidan focused. Called out the play. Checked in with Levi—who’d been solid as fuck the whole game.

The Cardinals had only sacked him once, when even Aidan could admit he’d held on to the ball about three seconds too long, waiting for Mo to try to evade the corner and the safety who were blanketing him.

Even then it hadn’t come from Levi’s side, but Acker’s.

The ref blew the whistle and the ball shot out of Griff’s hands, landing in Aidan’s.

He dropped back. One step, then two. Trevor shot the gap perfectly between the safety and his coverage. Whoever decided to only put a linebacker on Trevor was going to get their ass reamed in meetings this week.

Aidan pulled back and threw the ball. Trevor caught it mid-stride, and went for another five yards, a total of a seventeen-yard gain. Perfect play. Perfect execution.

Zane called for two run plays after that, trying to eat up time on the clock. Jaden got a decent chunk of yards on the first carry, and even more on the second.

Aidan had a feeling after they were able to run the ball fairly well that he wouldn’t be throwing much the rest of the drive.

He did take a shot down the field to Mo on a second down, but the corner batted the pass away at the last moment.

Still, they marched down the field, running more plays for Jaden and then a few more of Zane’s double tight end formations. Trevor caught another pass, and then Lane. And finally, Mo got another one to set them up at the six-yard line with less than two minutes remaining.

The Cardinals had been using their timeouts to try to save time, but it was clear if they could get in the end zone, it would all be a moot point.

With that much time on the clock though, Aidan didn’t want to send Dawson out to make a short field goal. It would break the tie, but it would leave the Cardinals with a chance, if they could go down the field and score a touchdown.

He wanted the Thunder to get in the end zone, and he knew who he wanted to catch the pass.

Just like old times.

Zane must have known what he wanted, because he called for a little misdirection—one of the new plays they’d come up with in the last week, since Mo had been traded—but they’d not had a lot of time to practice it.

It was all in the timing, the play starting like the double tight end formation the Thunder had been relying on all game, but then at the last moment, Mo releasing and heading to the corner of the end zone.

The hope was that whoever was defending Mo would lose track of him, thinking he wasn’t getting the ball.

Aidan took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. To make this work, everyone had to do their jobs flawlessly—especially him. It would be a tight window to thread the ball in. He trusted Mo, but if Mo was even the tiniest bit off, it could be an interception, not the touchdown they needed.

“Let’s do this,” he said, clapping his hands.

He met Mo’s eyes across the huddle. Mo nodded at him. He was as ready. They could do this. They’d done this so many times before.

Levi nudged him. “I’ll get you the time,” he said.

Aidan hadn’t even worried about that, but it was true; he’d need the time for the play to develop. If he got pressured, he wouldn’t be able to wait for Mo to release to the end zone.

“I know,” Aidan said.

Levi smiled. “Let’s get a W, then, bro.”

They lined up. Griff snapped the ball.

One.

Two.

Lane and Trevor shot out, running their misdirection pattern. Aidan did a pump fake, trying to sell it.

Three.

Mo released from where he’d been blocking, which left the line to contend with one extra defender and one less lineman.

Four.

He sprinted to the corner.

Aidan saw Acker getting backed up, knew he only had a second more to make this work.

Sidestepped, trying to buy another precious half a second.

Five.

Aidan threw the ball, just before Mo got set, but he knew Mo could adjust. Would adjust. Had to believe he would, like he had so many times before.

They’d always had each other’s backs.

Today was no exception.

Mo snatched the ball out of the air, came down with a quick toe-tap on the right side of the line.

The side judge threw his hands up and so did Aidan, as he raced in to celebrate.

Mo was an inch taller than him and a little broader and it felt natural, felt like déjà vu when Mo caught him mid-jump, mid-laugh, and raised him up towards the sky.

Aidan couldn’t help it, he looked down at Mo’s ecstatic expression and it was like the last three years hadn’t happened.

All the pain, all the sadness. Every moment he’d missed him.

Every time he’d railed at fate for separating them. For Mo not returning his feelings.

Maybe it was written in the stars, or even in fucking fate that Mo would never love him like he’d loved Mo, but they could have this again.

“Thought I wasn’t even going to breathe, watching them try to drive for that TD,” Cam joked as Aidan leaned on the bar next to him.

He’d suggested two days before the game that they all head to Vault for what would either be a celebration of their first win or a consolation drink for their first loss.

“The defense was solid. They had our backs,” Aidan said, and Cameron nodded excitedly.

“They sure did,” Cam said. “But I was still freaking out.”

“Aw, you’re such a rook,” Dawson teased as he lifted a glass of whiskey to his lips.

Cam made an outraged noise and elbowed him. “I played in college, you know.”

“Oh, honey, we know.” Dawson slung an arm around him. “You’re cute.”

He still thought maybe he should talk to Dawson. Dawson was such a solid guy—had been in college, and from everything Aidan had seen, nothing had changed now—but even solid guys went through it and could take advantage of someone without realizing it.

And that hero worship in Cam’s eyes was very sweet.

But now he didn’t want to talk to Dawson. Didn’t want to warn him off. Just wanted to celebrate with his team.

Speaking of his team, it felt like he’d barely gotten a chance to celebrate the big win with Levi.

Mo and Griff and Trevor and Lane had all been surrounding him.

Jaden too. But it was like he was always on the opposite side of whatever group Levi was in.

Then he’d had to do the press scrum after the game, and then it turned out that on their way to Vault, Levi had caught a ride with Griff instead.

Aidan sipped his drink and looked around the room, hoping that he’d see Levi. But he didn’t. There was Nate, chatting with Jaden and one of their starting corners. Ramsey was here, in a corner with Wes, their heads tipped together.

Maybe that was something—no matter how much Wes protested that it wasn’t.

So many guys here, but he couldn’t find his guy.

Aidan ignored the voice that screamed at him that Levi wasn’t his guy, no matter how much he wanted him to be, because he hadn’t said something.

He knew he should, even though he was half terrified that Levi would tell him it was only sex. He’d done everything he could this week to show Levi that it wasn’t just sex for him, and Levi hadn’t exactly protested.

They’d even grabbed pizza again from Moretti’s, mid-week, and it had felt even more date-like than the last time. And that wasn’t even counting the long, slow blowjob he’d given Levi when they’d gotten back to Aidan’s condo.

“Hey.”

Aidan looked over but it wasn’t Levi there. It was Mo, glass of red wine in his hand and an only slightly dimmer version of that celebratory smile on his face.

“Hey,” Aidan said, tapping him on the shoulder. “Great game, man.”

“So happy to be home,” Mo said. “Feels like old times, catching your darts.”

“Yeah,” Aidan agreed.

“Missed it,” Mo said, all earnestness. Too earnest. Something in the back of Aidan’s brain pinged, but he ignored it, because he was just being stupid.

“Yeah, me too,” Aidan said, even though he’d deliberately gone out of his way to not say anything about how he’d missed talking to Mo during their enforced silent period.

He hadn’t wanted to touch on personal feelings.

“I forgot how good it was. How good it felt,” Mo rhapsodized. He hadn’t always been the most expressive guy, but maybe the last three years had taught him that if he felt it, he should say it.

Aidan could say he’d learned that. Of course if he had, then why was he still being hesitant about bringing it up with Levi?

One reason, and it was standing in front of him, grinning at Aidan like nothing had changed.

“Three years is a long time,” Aidan said noncommittally. He wasn’t sure he wanted to venture down memory lane with Mo, if only because he still wanted to find his guy.

Mo nodded. Slid closer, until their elbows were nearly brushing. “Actually,” he said, tongue flicking out and wetting his bottom lip in a way that would’ve used to fuel Aidan’s fantasies for weeks, “I wanted to talk to you. About something private.”

Aidan really didn’t want to rehash what they’d talked about last June. It had been ugly enough then, and there was nothing more to say about it. Aidan had felt one way and Mo had felt another.

Being back on the same team together didn’t change that.