Page 36 of Perfect Storm
But Aidan didn’t send anything at all. Chickened the fuck out and left it all unsaid. He could deal with it tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d be more recalibrated.
Chapter 6
Levihadbeenplayingin the NFL for six years now, but he still felt like a rookie every time he stepped out onto the practice field for the first time at camp.
That feeling, like he still didn’t quite know what he was doing, was exacerbated by the fact this wasn’t Seattle, and all the guys he was currently heading towards were new to him.
He’d already been added to the lineman group chat, and he’d met a handful of them, in passing and at different NFL events, including the center, Griff Michaels, and the starting left tackle, Ross Acker, at the Pro Bowl last year.
“Hey, guys,” Levi said, jogging over to where they all stood together in a loose circle, weak sunshine shining on him. He’d say this about Toronto—so far, the weather wasn’tthatmuch different than Seattle. But everyone kept warning him that the fake summer would, in a few months, give way to some truly shitty and cold weather. Thatwouldbe different than Seattle.
Landry had already texted him twice, making sure that he’d brought his small stock of winter gear with him to Toronto.
Like he was going to leave it at home when he was moving toToronto?
“Banks, good to see you,” Griff said, pulling him in for a quick hug. Levi made the rounds, greeting all the guys, including Ross, who, as Levi expected, gave him a bit of a cold shoulder.
Levi could play both sides—but he personally thought he was better at left tackle, even though he’d spent most of his time in Seattle on the right side.
The coaching staff, while giving him the standard greetings when he’d signed, hadn’t said anything about him taking Acker’s spot on the left, but he’d watched some film, over the summer, and that had told him at least part of the story on why he was here.
Acker was fine, maybe even serviceable, but that sidecoulduse some shoring up, especially considering it was Aidan’s blind side.
Ned Johnson, the offensive line coach, showed up a minute later and put the group through their stretches, then some basic drills.
“We’re going to go through a few different formations,” Ned said when they were warmed up. He listed off names, and so far, on both lines, he was on the right side, so Ross could rest easy, at least for now.
They ran some basic plays, getting a feel for each other, Ned standing off to the side, next to the guy that Levi was pretty sure was the offensive coordinator.
“Great pulling move there, Banks,” Ned said, clapping his hands as they finished up the final drill before lunch.
Levi had worked hard in Seattle. He thought he’d been a pretty decent lineman in college, but in the pros, everyone was bigger and faster and just plainbetter.
He’d had to learn to take his natural skill and his bulk and how to move more aggressively.
In Seattle, they’d had a progression of mobile quarterbacks, and he’d had to adjust on the fly. If they decided to run, Levi was going along for the ride, blocking as they sprinted downfield.
Aidan wasn’t particularly mobile—he hadn’t even been that way when he’d been younger—but he could run. He occasionally did, still. But mostly, he was going to sit back in the pocket and throw his picture-perfect passes.
“Thatwasa really good move,” Griff said to him as they walked into the building for lunch. It was supposedly midday, but the sun was still weak, hiding behind a haze of clouds.
This was definitely way better than sweating his brains out in Charleston or Miami, which was what his two brothers were currently doing.
“Thanks,” Levi said, meeting Griff’s low five.
“I was stoked as shit when I saw the Thunder signed you. You’re gonna really bring some fire to this line.” Griff paused, his expression melting into a more contemplative look. “But what doyouthink? You glad you came here?”
That was a really fucking good question.
“Uh, yeah, I think so. Don’t know if Acker’s too happy I’m here,” Levi said, glancing around first to make sure that Ross wasn’t in hearing distance.
Griff rolled his eyes. “Don’t let him throw you. He’s just a fucking diva.”
Levi nodded. He’d been around guys like that his whole career. They always thought they were better than they really were. And often that attitude hid the fact theyknewthey weren’t as good as they pretended to be.
“You played left some in Seattle,” Griff pointed out. “What are you gonna do if they want you to do it here?”
“I just want to keep Flynn’s jersey clean. So if they ask, I’ll do it,” Levi said.
