Page 140 of Perfect Storm
Levi looked at him across the huddle and knew whatever Aidan was determined to do, Levi would be right there with him.
But it wasn’t just him. Aidan was pulling them all together through sheer strength of will, ten years of leadership in the NFL showing in this moment.
“Let’s get it done,” Aidan said earnestly after he’d called out the play.
He didn’t need to say that everyone was going to need to go above and beyond to make it happen.
They all knew.
A team as good as the Condors? When you wanted to be that good orbetter? They were going to have to bring the dedication.
Aidan clapped, breaking up the huddle, and Levi took his position on the edge, his focus narrowing to only the player in front of him. The guy was a good rusher, pushing Levi’s skills and athleticism every single down, not letting him take a single breather. He fought hard, but Levi was going to fight harder.
He dug down deep, deep into the well of motivation, and after Griff snapped the ball, pulled out a great block, feet moving fast, his bulk pushing the guy forward instead of letting him move both of them backwards, right into Aidan’s space.
Behind him, he heard Aidan call out, and a second later, Mo was crossing over the middle of the zone and he had the football. He pulled a fancy cut, almost reminiscent of his old speed, and Levi knew it wasn’t only him who wanted to pull this win out for Aidan. Mo wanted it too.
They went down the field like that. Not every play gained the yards they needed—and they had to get third downs twice, but they made it to the red zone, and on second down and goal, four yards away, they ran one of Zane’s two tight end formations and Lane snagged the ball, fooling the defense by not blocking on theline like he had been most of the drive, but rolling out just past the goal line.
Aidan was pumped up on the sideline after that, and even though there were a few touch and go moments—Riley scrambled and broke into a thirty-five-yard run at one point that had thunderclouds descending across Aidan’s face—the Thunder marched down the field three more times, and by the end of the fourth quarter, the scoreboard read Thunder 27, Condors 13.
Levi was nearby when the last seconds ticked down and he was the first person Aidan turned to, the widest smile on his face that Levi could remember seeing. No—that was not quite true. Levi when he’d kissed him after telling him he loved him,thathad been the best smile he’d ever seen on Aidan’s face. But this was a close second.
Riley and Landry met them in the middle of the field, cameras everywhere documenting every moment of the game that Levi had heard called the Brothers Bowl. “Great game, bro,” Riley said, hugging Aidan.
“Thought we were in trouble there for a moment,” Levi said to Landry, who just rolled his eyes in delight. He’d almost snagged a high pass that Riley had let float just a little too far, and if he had, the end score might’ve been a little closer.
“Wasn’t our game today,” Landry said, shrugging.
“It was your turn,” Riley said, always generous and gracious. “But next time?”
Aidan laughed. “All bets are off. I get it.”
Riley nodded in delight.
“Know you’ve got a flight to catch, but after media, come find me—find us,” Aidan said to him, letting his hand linger on Riley’s shoulder for a second. “Got something we need to talk about.”
Riley nodded, and the knowing gleam in his blue eyes as they slid over Levi made it clear he knew exactly what it was about.
It was a mass of their families in the hallway outside the Thunder locker room.
Riley was there, of course, and his best friend, Paige, who’d just moved to Atlanta. But it was the entire Banks clan, minus Logan, that threatened to exceed the space required.
Landry and Lyla were chatting with Levi, and the Banks parents were there, too, Larry and Linda, watching over three of their four children with an affectionate gleam in their eye.
At one point, so long ago Aidan couldn’t even remember exactly when it was, he’d hoped that maybe his parents might come around and end up at their games, just like this.
But that had never happened—first, they’d been preoccupied with their own petty dramas, and then after, because Aidan had forbidden them from showing up. He’d known they’d only be doing it because suddenly their two sons had done something worth paying attention to.
That ship, Aidan had decided—a decision that Riley had echoed, later, when Aidan had told him what he’d said to them—had long since sailed. There was no putting it back in the harbor.
“I said it before, but I’ll say it again,” Riley said, approaching Aidan and pulling him into a hug, “great game, bro.”
“That run?” Aidan shook his head in disbelief. “I wish I could run like that.”
Three years ago, it would’ve just about killed him to admit that Riley had skills he didn’t. That he could be better than Aidan was, even theoretically. Not because he hated Riley and didn’t want him to succeed, but because of what that would mean forhim.
“You used to,” Riley said, giving Aidan a teasing nudge. “I gotta do it now, while I still can.”
