Page 5 of Perfect Storm (Toronto Thunder #1)

“Hey, let’s get the boat ready to go,” he said.

Aidan stifled his groan of frustration. Maybe once they were on the lake, Riley and Landry would get absorbed in each other again, like they often did, and he could snatch a moment to tell Levi they’d both been drunk and dumb last night.

“Sure,” Aidan said, plastering the same smile on—the one that hadn’t fooled Levi—and followed Landry down to the attached boat dock.

He checked the supplies in the boat while Landry blew up a few inner tubes with the air compressor and tossed them in.

They’d just finished up when Levi and Riley appeared, carting what seemed like half a grocery store between them, their arms overflowing with towels, reusable bags, and the gigantic cooler.

“Did I miss the apocalypse?” Landry joked.

Riley glared, but like fondly. Aidan grimaced.

“No,” Riley said. “We needed supplies.”

“Apparently,” Landry said, but didn’t hesitate to take the bags from his boyfriend’s arms and help him onto the boat, even though Riley was an NFL quarterback and could figure out how to get from a dock to the boat.

Levi and Aidan exchanged a glance about this whole performance.

They’d been doing this for years now, since Landry and Riley had started dating.

It felt very normal. Routine, in fact. It had always been easy to give their brothers shit about how pathetically gone they were for each other.

But there was a new layer to these looks he shared with Levi now.

A knowing that Aidan couldn’t forget.

He wished he’d never touched Levi’s thigh.

He wished he’d never told Mo how he felt.

He wished he’d never fallen for Mo in the first place.

Honestly, a lot of wishes that were never going to fucking come true, so he might as well resign himself.

“Come on,” Aidan said, pulling the brim of his hat down, trying to shade his eyes more. “Let’s go.”

It was his house and his boat, so he always drove, even though Landry made lots of noise about wanting to take a turn. Aidan let him occasionally, and only when he wanted to take his turn on the wakeboard.

He drove them around the edge. Riley sitting in the back with Landry, Landry’s arm over his shoulder, Levi on the opposite side, head tipped back like he was trying to absorb the sun.

“That’s the Barnes’ house,” Aidan pointed out as they passed it.

“Barnes?” Levi asked, frowning.

“Avery and Charlie? Well, I guess now Ethan, too. He just got drafted. They all play in the NHL,” Riley told him. Levi made a weird, confused face as Riley laughed. “Hockey, bro.”

“They’re cool guys. They work hard. Play hard, too.

Young, but serious.” They’d inevitably crossed paths a handful of times when Aidan had bought this house, at parties and barbeques.

Last time they’d run into each other, he and Avery had even exchanged numbers, promising to hang out more.

He should’ve texted Avery that he was coming here, but honestly the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

He’d only wanted to be alone and this had seemed like the most logical place to do that, if he wasn’t interested in hauling his sad, brokenhearted ass all the way to Antarctica.

“Now I think I remember,” Levi said. “Hockey, you said?”

“God, you’re an idiot.” Landry smacked him on the leg. “It’s lucky you’re cute.”

Aidan steered the boat towards the middle of the lake, taking them across to one of his favorite inlets, with a tucked-away beach that didn’t tend to get a lot of traffic, even in the summer.

It was almost impossible to reach by foot, and even though it was easy enough by boat, it was off the beaten path enough that most people didn’t even know it existed.

They helped Riley empty the boat of the cooler and the food, spreading towels out on the sand, a fringe of trees overhanging on the beach just far enough to give a nice amount of shade.

Riley brandished the sunscreen and everyone submitted dutifully. “I don’t know why you’re like this when we all tan,” Levi griped, tugging off his shirt.

He was built like a tank, wide shoulders—wider even than Landry’s—and all rippling muscle.

Not underwear-model muscle, but real muscle.

Like he could probably pick up Aidan and bench him or something.

Aidan ignored the prickling of his skin and turned away, staring out at the lapping water on the shore.

“Skin cancer is a thing, dude,” Riley reminded him, ignoring his yelp when Riley sprayed the cold liquid all over his skin.

Landry said he wanted the first go, so Aidan took him out first, watching as he carefully balanced himself on the board. He didn’t tend to try a lot of fancy tricks, but when it was Riley’s turn, his smaller, more compact body made every single one he tried look effortless.

“Hey, you want a turn?” Aidan called over to Levi as he pulled the boat up to the tiny dock. He’d sprawled out on not just one towel, but two, laid out side by side, and he looked blissful.

“Nah,” he called back. “I’m good right here. Might take a dip later.”

“Come on, bro,” Riley said, nudging him with a wet arm. “I’ll drive. You take a turn.”

Aidan wanted to argue. Say he was still feeling like shit.

Which was . . .well, not technically true, but true enough.

But Riley had that determined look in his eye.

The same one he’d worn when he’d insisted to Aidan that he’d end up in the NFL, even though everyone—including Aidan—had thought he was too small.

It was easier to argue with a wall than to circumvent Riley when he wore that look.

“Sure,” Aidan said.

They switched places, Riley piloting the boat out with a soft, expert touch.

Turned out that Riley was right about this, like he was right about most things. It was refreshing and good, to use his body in this way, in a way he knew how to. It stretched muscles that had gotten a little too lazy in the last few days of inactivity.

By the time he lifted himself back into the boat, he was feeling good. Loose and warm and with a tiny tendril of an emotion he was pretty sure was happiness winding its way through him.

Of course that was the moment Riley decided to strike.

“What’s going on with you?” Riley said, tone of voice deceptively casual but the intentness of his gaze making it clear just how serious he was.

Aidan grabbed a towel and scrubbed it over his wet hair before shoving his hat back on. “What do you mean?”

“Bro,” Riley warned.

So much for Riley not having any clue that something was up. And if Riley knew, Landry knew.

Aidan wouldn’t have said that was a downside of them dating, necessarily, but it was something. A mild annoyance, maybe, on any normal day. But actively frustrating today.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me what’s up with you,” Riley said.

Aidan still didn’t want to lie. Didn’t want to tell the truth either.

But maybe . . .maybe it would be better to just spit it out and get it over with.

“You know how last week I was at that charity golf thing in Vegas?”

Riley nodded.

Aidan had picked his words carefully with Levi last night.

But now he didn’t even think; he just talked.

“I’ve been struggling with this Mo thing, for awhile.

You know that.” Riley knew, but probably thought it was just Aidan’s frustration that the friendship was more long-distance than it had been.

That he no longer had Mo to throw to on the field.

“Anyway, I thought I should say something. I’d been thinking about it for awhile.

What exactly I should say. That it was .

. .that it was more than just friendship for me.

I decided finally, what the hell. And so I told him. We talked.”

“You told him you’re in love with him, then?” Riley asked archly.

Aidan froze.

“How did—”

“Bro,” Riley stressed. “You were not very subtle about it.”

“Oh.”

Riley pushed off from the driver’s seat and flopped down next to Aidan. “It’s cool, you know? That you love him.”

Aidan scrubbed a hand across his face. He probably should’ve shaved this morning. But he hadn’t wanted to accidentally cut his jugular, not as hungover as he’d been.

“It’s not very cool,” Aidan said.

Riley didn’t say anything, just looked sympathetic. Unlike Mo’s sympathy, it didn’t make Aidan want to fling himself in front of the nearest moving vehicle, so that was something.

“You don’t look surprised in the least.”

Riley shrugged. “I didn’t think he liked you like that. But you liked him like that.”

Aidan tried not to tense. “It was that obvious?”

“Maybe not to everyone, but to me? Yeah. Football’s the most important thing in the world to you, Aidan, and you held out in camp for a new contract, and your only fucking requirement was that he get one too. For you, that’s kind of crazy.”

He’d known it was. Even as he’d done it, even as his agent had repeatedly insisted he was acting insane, he’d felt so desperate and unhinged, he’d stuck to his guns.

Until finally, the only person who could’ve talked him off the ledge had done it.

Mo had sat him down and gently told him he was going to Vegas. That it was over.

Aidan hadn’t understood then why that had felt like the end of the universe.

Now he knew, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow today than it had then.

“Didn’t work,” Aidan said, and suddenly he was dangerously close to crying.

He hadn’t cried before, three years ago, when he’d wanted to.

And not since he’d gotten back from Vegas, because part of him had worried that if he started, he just wouldn’t stop.

And he wasn’t that guy. He’d never been that guy.

“No, but you tried. You were brave, putting yourself out there like that. There’s something actually kind of beautiful about that, to be honest. Balls-to-the-wall crazy Flynn behavior.”

Aidan choked out a laugh. “How can it be beautiful if he doesn’t feel like—like I do?”

“Love is always a gift,” Riley said softly, “even if it’s not returned. I think you’ll see that eventually.”

Aidan made a scoffing noise. This feeling, a gift? He wanted to return it, receipt be damned. Dropkick it back into the maw of the universe.

“And,” Riley added even more gently, and this time it was him, wrapping an arm around Aidan’s bare shoulders, “I do think he loves you, just not like that. Someday, you’ll feel differently, and you’ll love him again the way he loves you. It’ll be good again.”

Aidan almost said that was similar to what Levi had said.

But he didn’t want Riley to know about Levi. That he knew, or what else had happened with Levi last night.

Because again, whatever Riley knew, Landry knew.

Landry didn’t operate on the same unhinged overprotective-older-brother frequency that Aidan did, but he would not be happy about Aidan being in love with someone else and agreeing to fuck his younger brother. Even if the younger brother had been the one to suggest it.

“I hope so,” Aidan said instead. And he did. He wanted to not feel like this, not anymore.

“You’re gonna get past this, I promise,” Riley said, squeezing him tighter into his side. “I’m gonna be there for you.”

“Thanks, Ri.” It was a little jarring for Riley to be acting this way. But, Aidan supposed, this was all he’d really wanted for his younger brother. To be so happy and secure and mature that he could comfort others, when they needed it. Even if the person who needed it the most was Aidan.

“Landry, too,” Riley added.

Aidan groaned.

“What? Of course he knows. He might’ve put it all together before I did,” Riley said.

“But I think he might like it if you told him. He’s your best friend, was your best friend long before you met Morris.

You were friends when things were shit, back then, with our parents.

And he’s still your friend, even when things are shit, now. ”

Aidan knew Riley was right. “Yeah. Alright. I’ll talk to him.”

Riley smiled. “Good.”

It was impossible to hold his long resigned sigh in. “How did you get like this?”

“Like . . .emotionally mature and shit?” Riley grinned. “You, bro. All you. And not the way you think.”

“How do I think?” Aidan asked dryly.

“I mean, you think it was because you babied the shit out of me and protected my ass and somehow kicked it at the same time, never letting me settle. But here’s the thing, that was brave as shit, being all those things when you were too young considering Mom and Dad were .

. .well, like they are.” Riley didn’t say what their parents were like, but Aidan knew all too well.

Too caught up in their own petty hatreds and rivalries after their divorce to remember they had two sons.

“But the bravest thing you ever did was to take a step back and let me sink or swim.”

“You’d have killed me if I didn’t,” Aidan said, swallowing hard. It had been tough. One of the toughest things he’d ever done. Every molecule of his body had been screaming at him to do anything else. But he’d known if he did, Riley would never forgive him.

He’d had to give Riley the space to figure his own shit out. Even if he failed in the process.

And he hadn’t.

“Yeah, and it was scary as shit, no lie. I was afraid I’d fuck it all up, but I didn’t, because you raised me right, bro.”

Aidan didn’t say anything, staring out at the gentle waves, listening to them lapping at the side of the boat.

Thinking about everything Riley had said.

About that time, three years ago, when everything had been in upheaval.

When he’d been terrified of losing Riley and Landry and Mo.

But he hadn’t. Things hadn’t turned out like he’d expected, like he’d wanted, but in all the ways that counted, he still had all of them.

Even Morris, who’d told him unequivocably that they were still friends. That they’d always be friends. No matter what.

“You’re really fucking smart, you know that?” Aidan finally said.

Riley beamed. Like his older brother’s approval was all he’d ever wanted. And maybe that was true. He patted Aidan on the knee. “You’re gonna get through this,” he said.

And between what Riley said, and Levi last night, Aidan was beginning to believe that was really true.