Page 124 of Perfect Storm
“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 sayhe’dlearned 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 hestillwanted 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 forweeks, “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.
But how could Aidan say no? He felt caught between his long friendship with Mo, a friendship that meant he’d give Mo whatever he needed, no questions asked, and being QB1 and a captain, who should always be willing to hear a teammate out.
“Sure,” Aidan said and, inclining his head towards the library, guided him and Mo that direction.
He had no idea what Mo wanted to talk about—though he had some idea—but he was still surprised when they stopped in front of a set of bookshelves, lined with leather-bound, gold-embossed volumes, and Mo said, “I’ve been thinking.”
“A dangerous hobby,” Aidan tried to joke.
“I mean it,” Mo said, still so earnest. Where had all this earnestness come from? Aidan didn’t quite recognize it, and it was making him uneasy.
“Okay,” Aidan said. “What have you been thinking about?”
Mo took a deep breath. Set his wine down, which made Aidan even more anxious. “You know what we talked about in June.”
Like Aidan was going to fucking forget. “Yes.”
“I know I blew you off—”
Aidan wasn’t going to let that slide. Had Mo turned him down? Yes. But he’d done it nicely. Thoughtfully. There’d been no blowing off of anyone.
“No, you didn’t,” Aidan said. “I told you how I felt and you told me you didn’t feel the same. End of story.”
Mo’s dark eyes seemed to be pleading with him to understand what he was trying to say without him actually fucking saying it. “You surprised me. Fucking floored me, to be honest.”
“I got that.” That hadn’t felt great either, but it hadn’t been too shocking, considering that Aidan had spent years trying to keep his feelings under wraps.
“I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t thought about it. I still don’t know if I . . .” Mo hesitated. “I don’t know if I do like guys, but God, being back here with you, playing together again, catching your passes again, I just . . .it makes me wonder.”
Aidan told himself to be sympathetic, but his voice came out flat. “Makes you wonder what?”
