The Star (Charleston Condors Book 1)

AFTER PRACTICE, WHEN RILEY checked his phone, there was a very unsurprising text from his brother. How’d your first practice go?

Did you fuck it up? Riley knew that was what Aidan really wanted to ask.

He supposed he should be grateful his brother hadn’t phrased it that way; at some point, that was absolutely what he would have said—no tact whatsoever.

The guys in the NFL aren’t gonna be nice, either. He could imagine Aidan also saying if he actually complained about his total lack of diplomacy.

Went just about as I expected it would, Riley typed back. Really freaking great.

He wasn’t lying.

There was just one thing that surprised him—the way it had felt when Landry had caught his very first pass.

He’d not let himself consider the possibility it might happen, had let his mind take in the defense—their configuration meant handing the ball off to the running back was off the table—then after the ball was snapped, he’d gone through his progressions. First, Carter was covered, and when he switched to Nick, he was, too.

But it had felt so goddamn right when he’d finally turned to Landry, and there he was in the soft part of the zone, almost right where he wanted him. He’d shifted to the right, and Landry had followed like they’d been playing together for years—for forever—and then he’d plucked his pass right out of the air.

Their gazes had caught right after he’d come down with the ball, and it seemed he wasn’t the only one who was so freaking happy about being able to throw to Landry.

He looked just as thrilled to be catching Riley’s passes.

Don’t get cocky now, Aidan sent back.

Riley rolled his eyes and tossed his phone down, pulling his t-shirt on. He had hours left of meetings tonight, but he still felt invigorated.

“You get it, too?”

Riley glanced up, and there was Landry again. He was wearing shorts but no shirt, and his biceps bulged as he crossed his arms over his chest.

His broad, gorgeous chest.

Riley hated how his mouth went dry. Loved it, too.

It was hard to ignore what Paige had predicted when it seemed these days that Landry was just as affected by Riley as Riley was by Landry.

“Aidan’s bullshit? You know it.”

“Was he at least…” Landry hesitated.

“Not horrible?” Riley finished him for him. “Yeah, he was not horrible. Definitely not as bad as he’s ever been.”

“Good.” Landry looked relieved, and it touched Riley that he cared.

He hadn’t been sure if Landry hadn’t been drinking Aidan’s Kool-Aid all these years or if he was really willing to give Riley a chance.

“I’ve got a few more hours of meetings,” Riley said. “You gonna stick around or… I’m sure I can catch a ride from someone else.” Coach Oscar and Charlie had told him they always got together after practice to go over the footage they’d just taped. Breaking it down, looking for opportunities to improve.

It would’ve been the suggestion Riley made if they weren’t already doing it, so it made sense to just join them.

“I’ll stick around,” Landry said. “Deacon and Jem and Beck said they were going out after to grab a beer. They wanted you to come, too, if you’re still up for it.”

It had been an undeniably long day, and Riley couldn’t say it wouldn’t catch up to him later, but he understood because he’d been around teams as long as he had been, what the invitation really was: a gesture of goodwill and welcome. It would be stupid to say no.

Deacon and Jem were the old guard of the defense, the ones who’d protected the good name of the Condors when ownership hadn’t particularly wanted it to be protected. And Beck might be a rookie, but they’d taken him under their wing.

“Sure. I’ll invite Carter, too, and Charlie.”

“You’re not seriously going to invite Carter,” Landry said under his breath.

“Yeah, I am.” He might be brand fucking new. But it was his job to hold this team together. Aidan had beat that idea into his brain often enough that it came as easy as breathing. Did he particularly like Carter? No, not really. But he was still a member of this team, one of the more valuable pieces, if he wasn’t counting Carter’s obnoxious attitude.

Landry just shook his head. “You’re more like Aidan than even he realizes.”

“Probably,” Riley said lightly, knowing Landry meant it as a compliment. His brother was incredibly accomplished and respected as a quarterback, and Riley knew he’d taken a lot he’d learned from Aidan to heart. But the rest? Well, Riley wasn’t going to ever give up on anyone.

Not the way his brother had wanted to give up on him.

He had no intention now—or ever—of grappling with the kinds of issues that he knew haunted his brother, even if he’d never opened his mouth about them.

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Landry said. “I’d say be good, but you already know just how good you are.”

Riley grinned at him. “Felt like you knew it, too, earlier.”

“I really like Charlie, you know. And Nelson, too, obviously, but…felt somethin’ special, catching your balls.”

“Believe me, I know just how much you like my balls,” Riley teased.

God, he just loved the way Landry flushed, the pinkish color rising along his skin, from underneath his chin up towards his hairline, whenever they flirted. It was like he was seeing a brand-new guy—or the guy underneath he’d never gotten to meet before. Somehow, he’d ended up liking that guy even more than the one he’d had a hopeless crush on for way too many years.

Wasn’t that saying something?

“Well, I guess I’ll see you when you’re done with your meeting,” Landry said.

“Guess you will,” Riley said, not bothering to hide his pleasure or the brightness of his smile at Landry’s words.

‘You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Riley asked Charlie as he threw on a light jacket.

“Nah. My wife, Nadia, she gets worked up if I don’t come home to tuck the kids in because then they refuse to sleep,” Charlie said sheepishly.

Riley could immediately see the problem with that. “How old are your kids?” he asked.

“Nine and four, and before you even ask,” Charlie said with a chuckle, holding up a hand. “No, I don’t want any more.”

“I think two seems like plenty,” Riley said. He hadn’t even thought about ever starting a family—or starting closer to the beginning and actually finding someone to just date. He’d been way too focused on making it in the NFL.

Maybe he was just as much of a Flynn as Aidan and his parents, not constructed to settle down. Because even though Aidan had, without a single doubt, made it, racking up many successful years as an NFL quarterback, he certainly didn’t show any signs of committing to anybody.

In fact, Riley couldn’t remember the last time Aidan had told him about a second date.

“Not for you?” Charlie asked with a nudge as they headed towards the elevator that would take them upstairs, where Landry had texted that he and the other guys would be waiting for him.

“Someday, maybe,” Riley said. “This life’s hard for a family. Hard to even date.” Not that he’d really tried, much to Paige’s chagrin. But maybe if the Charleston situation became stable, maybe if he felt like he wasn’t devoting every waking second to becoming successful, he’d consider actually finding someone he wanted to date.

Don’t be stupid. You’ve already found the person.

But Riley cut that thought off hard and fast. Sure, Landry was looking at him differently these days. But maybe he wasn’t ready to admit how he felt, now or anytime soon. And then there was the little, insignificant matter of him being his big brother’s best friend.

If he had even an inkling of what Riley was thinking of, Aidan would absolutely lose his shit.

“Tell me about it,” Charlie said wryly.

“Well, I’m glad you gave it at least one more year,” Riley said, slinging an arm around the older man. “You’ve got a lot to teach, and I’ve got a lot to learn.”

Charlie looked pleased. “You know, I thought you might be more like Aidan. Pleasantly surprised you’re not.”

It was funny; earlier, right after practice, Landry had told him he reminded him of Aidan, and now Charlie was saying the exact opposite.

“Really?”

“Thought you might believe you were already hot shit. You know, Aidan and I both went to the Pro Bowl a few years. I know him, not super well, but decent enough. Your brother’s an amazing quarterback.”

Riley could sense the but coming in that sentence, even as Charlie hesitated.

“With an amazing ego to match,” Riley retorted, finishing the thought Charlie hadn’t wanted to. He’d known his brother knew Charlie because Aidan had told him as much.

“Yep,” Charlie said with an amused glance over at him. “Exactly. But you’re not like that.”

“How could I be?”

How could he be when everyone had been lined up from the very beginning to tell him he was too small, too weak, too short, too everything, to make it?

The very opposite of what Aidan had experienced.

“Good point,” Charlie said wryly.

When they exited the elevator, Landry, Jem, Deacon, and Carter were waiting for them at the far end of the atrium.

“We’re just waiting for Beck,” Deacon said.

“See you tomorrow,” Charlie said, and to Riley’s surprise, he gave him a quick hug. “Don’t let these idiots keep you out too late, alright?”

“Yes, Dad,” Deacon said, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, I’m your age,” Charlie argued, a smile tilting up a corner of his mouth. He seemed amused instead of annoyed.

“Exactly,” Deacon said.

“Next time,” Charlie promised.

A minute later, Beck arrived, apologizing. “Sorry, guys,” he said. “I got stuck reviewing some tape with Coach.”

“You’re so freaking dedicated,” Jem teased, ruffling Beck’s hair. “I love it.”

To Riley’s surprise, they all piled into Deacon’s big SUV. “I’m not letting y’all drink and drive,” Deacon said firmly.

“And you called Charlie Dad,” Carter teased.

“We’ve been around too long and seen too much shit,” Jem said.

When Riley had first been drafted, Aidan had sat him down and made him promise to avoid a whole laundry list of things.

Drinking and driving was at the very top of the list. Aidan hadn’t had to explain that one because even during college, Riley had seen way too many cautionary tales of players ruining their careers before they’d even begun.

Riley had worked too hard, for too long, to let something like that derail him.

“I think you guys are gonna be real good for me. Definitely give my agent fewer heart attacks.”

Landry rolled his eyes. “I bet.”

“Who’s your agent, Carter?” Riley was supposed to be making friends with him, so he decided to play nice.

“It’s Scott Boras, but I’m thinking of switching. Any of you use Alec Mitchell?”

Alec Mitchell was the only high-profile queer agent in football. He managed Chase Riley and Spencer Evans from the Riptide, as well as Sebastian Howard from the Piranhas and a whole slew of others.

Riley glanced over at Carter, suddenly finding him marginally more interesting. “No, but didn’t realize you were interested in coming out.” That was usually why someone hired Alec. He was masterful at handling something that at one time would’ve derailed an NFL career but now was barely a blip.

Carter shrugged. “I don’t know if I care. It’s not like it’s a big deal anymore. I just sort of do whatever the fuck I feel like, and if people want to infer something, they’re free. Why so interested, Flynn?” Carter grinned at him.

This sounded very much like Carter’s style.

“Why the switch, then?” Riley asked, ignoring Carter’s flirtatious question. Even if he was interested in Carter—and he definitely wasn’t—he’d known enough guys like Carter Maxwell to know he didn’t really mean it.

“Because I’m sick of my agent’s interminable lectures,” Carter said. “Maybe Alec wouldn’t be so annoying. After all, look at what he did for Chase. He got him that new big contract with the Riptide. And same for Spencer Evans.”

“You already tired of being called the new Chase Riley?” Jem teased.

“I’m the new Carter Maxwell,” Carter insisted. “I’m not a new anyone else.”

“Then maybe don’t act like it,” Landry said under his breath.

Riley was pretty sure he was the only one who’d heard that—because he’d gotten stuck between Landry and Carter in the middle row of seats. He nudged Landry. Trying hard to ignore the way his bigger body felt plastered against his own.

“Seems like you already know what you want to do,” Deacon said.

“So where’s this place you’re taking us?” Carter wanted to know.

“Place we like to go. Friendly. Low-key.” They’d already driven downtown, but instead of pulling onto the main street where Riley had heard all the bars were, he turned onto a side street and parked behind a small, dark building.

“What’s this?” Carter asked as they piled out of the car. “You knew a Tiki Bar here and you didn’t take me last year?”

Riley didn’t miss the look Jem shot the wide receiver. “We weren’t really in the mood to go out last year,” Deacon said bluntly.

The reminder of what last year had been like for the Condors seemed to sober up even Carter, but then they walked through the unassuming doorway, and immediately, it felt like they’d stepped right into a tropical paradise.

“The Pirate’s Booty? Really?” Carter sounded both surprised and also delighted by the name of the bar, written on the wall opposite the doorway, surrounded by what felt like real palm trees. When Riley pressed a hand to the bark of one of them as they passed by, heading towards the main bar, he realized they were real.

As were the flowering plants winding their way up the walls of the bar.

“We used to come here all the time when…” Jem hesitated. “Well, back when things were good.”

“They’re gonna be good again,” Riley said, hoping that if he believed it enough, it would be true.

“Yeah, I think so,” Deacon said, his solemn expression breaking into a smile. But Riley noticed that Jem’s expression didn’t change as they approached the bar.

Behind the long counter, there was a full-sized mannequin dressed as a pirate.

“I want something tall and fruity and bright, with an umbrella,” Carter announced as they leaned against the bar.

Unsurprisingly, it was pretty quiet since it was only Thursday. And, Riley remembered, as he glanced around the handful of occupied tables, Deacon had said it was a low-key place.

“They’ve got karaoke here on Wednesdays,” Deacon said. “And Mondays are Disco Night, if we ever want to have a victory celebration…”

“That sounds fun,” Riley said, and it actually did.

“You like disco?” Landry sounded floored by that.

“Well, yeah. I mean, doesn’t everybody like to get down tonight?” Riley wiggled his hips, and it wasn’t so dark in the bar he couldn’t see the way Landry’s golden brown stare heated up.

Reminded Riley of the other night when he’d been grooving to Beyonce in the kitchen and Landry had come home early.

The appreciation in his eyes hadn’t just been pleasure at seeing his best friend’s little brother. It had been way more personal than that.

Riley knew it.

He just didn’t know what Landry was prepared to do about it.

“Personally, I’d love to get down tonight,” Carter teased.

“Yeah, nobody who knows you at all is surprised,” Beck said. “I’m getting a beer. Anyone else want to go for a pitcher?”

“Us,” Jem said.

The bartender appeared, and his smile widened even further when he saw who was standing in front of his bar. “Hey, guys, long time no see. You’re back for the new season?”

“Yep,” Jem said.

Deacon turned back to their group. “Kieran here is, hands-down, the best bartender in the city. He’s got an extra special skill.”

“Being a good bartender?” Beck wondered.

“Nope.” Deacon grinned. “He knows exactly what you want just by looking at you.”

“Really?” Landry sounded skeptical.

Deacon opened his mouth, no doubt to argue about it, but Kieran just interrupted. “I got this,” he said. “You want me to make you a drink, Landry?”

Landry raised an eyebrow.

“You’re pretty easy to recognize,” Kieran explained. “Then there’s the fact your face is plastered all over the season tickets.”

He was the easiest to recognize, with his face and his height, and his build. It was a little ridiculous how Landry kept pretending that wasn’t true, but Riley would be the first to tell him it was inevitable that wherever he went, people watched him. Not just because he was a football player but because of that ridiculous six-foot-five frame with those crazy wide shoulders. Nevermind all those muscles and the shoulder-length model hair.

They probably all looked at Landry and thought the same thing Riley always had: how good would it feel to climb him like a freaking tree?

“I guess,” Landry said, still not sounding convinced. “And sure, I’ll take a drink.”

“Great.” Kieran started making a drink, Riley leaning over the counter so he could get a better look. He had a decent idea of what Landry liked, at least when he wasn’t drinking beer with his brother, but as Kieran grabbed bottle after bottle, every motion filled with confidence, he had no idea if the end result was even going to be something Landry enjoyed.

Kieran set the finished drink on the polished bar top and topped it in a dramatic flourish with one of the brightly colored umbrellas Carter had wanted.

“What is it?” Landry asked as he picked it up.

But Kieran just shrugged, smiling like he was incredibly amused by the question. To Riley, it was a perfectly legit question. Because not only did Landry have no idea what was in the glass, but it was also a murky kind of orange, not the most appealing color of beverage he’d ever seen.

But then Landry finally took a sip, and pleasure transformed his face.

That’s how he’d look if he took a bite out of you.

Riley didn’t need the buzz of awareness under his skin to want Landry. And it sure didn’t help.

“Well?” Carter demanded. “Was he right?”

“It’s…it’s sweet and sour and tangy…I don’t even know what’s in it, but it’s perfect.”

Kieran nodded. “I know,” he said, zero trace of ego in his voice.

Riley knew if he’d had that kind of skill, he wouldn’t be quite that matter-of-fact about it. In fact, he’d be bragging about it, Aidan-style, every chance he could.

“Do me next, do me next,” Carter demanded excitedly.

But Kieran’s gaze fell on Riley instead.

“I think it’s only right our new QB gets the next drink,” Kieran said. He smirked a little, and Riley swore he wasn’t just psychic with the drink selections, but he knew exactly what Riley had been thinking.

Compared to the number of bottles employed in the preparation of Landry’s drink, Riley’s only took two.

He knew what it would be the moment he saw the glass appear on the coaster.

Also knew it was perfect, exactly the right thing for him.

“And for Riley Flynn,” Kieran teased. “Because he knows what he wants, and he’s just gonna reach out and take it.”

But am I?

“Not a surprise,” Riley said, after taking a sip, “but you still did good.”

“You remember that,” Kieran said, giving him a little nod, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Did he really make your drink? What is it? Aidan told me, and I forgot.” Landry stole the drink out of Riley’s hand and took a sip. Riley’s heart stuttered at the sight of Landry swiping his tongue across his lips, chasing the spicey, sugary vanilla taste.

“Yes,” Riley said. “Like he said. I know what I want, and I’m gonna take it.”

“Hmmm. It’s good. Just so sweet. But yeah, it’s good. I like it.”

I’d taste just like that. And you wouldn’t just like it, you’d love it.

“This is a cool place,” Riley said, changing the subject because, at some point, the tension between them would stretch so tight, so undeniable, he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore.

If it snapped right now, at this bar, in front of all their new teammates, that might be more than a little awkward.

“Yeah,” Landry agreed. He settled against the bar. “You wanna go sit down?”

“Riley!” Carter exclaimed, practically crashing into Landry in his enthusiasm. “Try this.”

He pushed a glass full of bright blue liquid towards Riley. Not only had Carter gotten the requisite umbrella, but there was also a tiny plastic mermaid figure floating in the glass.

It was sour on his tongue, and Riley made a face. “What is that? It’s awful.”

“Exactly!” Carter crowed his delight about this particular fact. “I love sour stuff.”

“Anyone who looked at you would guess that,” Landry muttered.

“Jem says there’s a whole upstairs that overlooks the courtyard. I guess that’s where the dance floor and stage is. The courtyard.” Carter fluttered his eyelashes at Riley. “You wanna go check it out?”

Riley wanted to stay here and keep making himself long for things he’d probably never get. But he should go with Carter and keep developing a friendship that would probably end up serving both of them very well.

“Sure,” he said. Not missing the disgruntled look that passed over Landry’s face.

Ugh, Landry thought as he tried to give a shit about the conversation Deacon, Jem, and Beck were having.

He couldn’t blame Carter for flirting with Riley. Or wanting him all to himself.

If he’d had the balls to suggest going to explore the rest of the bar—all those fucking dark corners where nobody would know exactly what they got up to—then he’d have done it, too.

But Carter had beat him to it.

It was stupid and almost definitely counter-productive to be sitting here, gnashing his teeth over Carter’s obvious flirtations.

Especially when it wasn’t like Landry had done a single damn thing about the way he’d been feeling.

He hadn’t because it was so fucking new.

He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact he was way too attracted to Riley. Who happened to be a guy. Who also happened to be Aidan’s little brother.

He hadn’t expected to have to power through those thought processes so Carter Maxwell wouldn’t make a move first.

Again, who could fucking blame him? Not with the way Riley looks.

“I still feel we could use some extra help in the secondary,” Deacon said.

“You don’t think Rex and Eric are gonna cut it?” Jem questioned, pouring himself another beer.

“No.” Deacon sounded very sure, and Landry felt a little sorry for Rex and Eric, whom he hadn’t even met because Deacon had dismissed them so completely.

Even though Landry hadn’t known him for very long, from his short experience with the guy, it was unlike Deacon to be so harsh.

It occurred to Landry that maybe his issues with the two starting corners didn’t end with their play—but with something else.

The Condors had cleaned house, but maybe they hadn’t cleaned house as thoroughly as they could have.

“You still need a shut-down corner,” Beck said.

He’d know because he was a safety, already finding his footing in his second year, and if he had to step in and help out more than usual, it was because the corners weren’t handling their assignments.

“Yeah, like that guy you played with at Northwestern.”

Some indecipherable emotion flashed over Beck’s face. “Micah?”

“Yeah,” Jem said. “He up for leaving the Piranhas?”

“Would you be up for leaving a team on the rise like that? Hell no,” Deacon said. “I’d cut off my right nut for a chance to play for Asa Dawson.”

Beck didn’t say anything else.

Which, he probably thought he was being smart, keeping whatever he felt under wraps, but Landry wanted to tell him that everything he wasn’t saying was so much louder than anything he could’ve said.

There was definitely a story there.

“Surprised you didn’t go there,” Landry said, speaking up. “You could’ve. Could’ve picked your team.”

“And left Jem here?” Deacon laughed. “No way.”

Jem smiled, but there was something empty in it.

That was the thing Landry had discovered about joining a new team. He’d known all about the Bills. How the players fit together, which ones gravitated towards each other, and all the undercurrents playing out just under the surface.

But with a whole new team of players to figure out, he felt lost a lot of the time.

Come to think about it, the only time he hadn’t was when he was with Riley.

He made him feel…safe.

And very not safe, too.

He stood. Beck looked over at him in surprise.

“I’m gonna go see what Riley and Carter are up to,” he said.

“Right,” Deacon said, and oh, he knew exactly what the bee looked like that was currently buzzing around Landry’s bonnet. “You have fun doing that.”

But his knowing glance didn’t stop Landry.

No, what stopped Landry was on the second floor of the bar, overlooking the courtyard.

Riley and Carter.

Carter, leaning in and laughing, his handsome face lit up by the flashing lights in the courtyard below.

Riley smiling, too.

They even looked gorgeous together.

The drink that had been so perfect earlier felt like it was curdling in his stomach like old milk.

You know he’s not for you.

But he didn’t know that. Not really.

Not with as much certainty as he believed Carter would be totally wrong for Riley. He wasn’t serious enough, then there was his questionable work ethic, and finally, his wild card lifestyle.

Riley deserved more.

He deserved better.

“Hey,” Landry said, trying to approach the pair with something other than a thundercloud in his expression, but it was hard to reign all that in, and he thought Carter noticed.

On the other hand, Riley turned to him, his smile brightening as he spotted Landry approaching.

“Got tired of the defensive talk,” Landry said, pushing his fingers through his hair. “Thought I’d see what you two were up to.”

“Right.” Carter didn’t look convinced.

“Hey, why don’t you go grab us some waters,” Riley said to him.

Carter made a face, but he didn’t argue either. Instead, he collected Riley’s glass and took off for the stairs Landry had just climbed up.

“You’re welcome,” Landry said as Carter’s blond hair disappeared from view.

Riley’s expression was inscrutable, though, as he leaned against the railing.

“He’s not so bad,” Riley said, and anxiety spiked inside Landry.

Did Riley actually like Carter?

God, he’d thought the hardest thing he’d face with Riley’s arrival would be wrestling with his sexuality. He’d never imagined he’d have to watch Riley fall for someone else.

“You know how sometimes people think any attention is better than no attention?” Riley asked. “That’s Carter. He doesn’t mean to be obnoxious. He just doesn’t know when to quit. Doesn’t know how.”

“You’ve got him pegged pretty fast,” Landry said. Hating the envy in his voice. Hoping that Riley wouldn’t recognize it for what it was.

But Riley just shrugged. “It’s my job to know my guys.”

“What about me?” Landry should’ve bitten that question back. But he couldn’t. At the last second, it escaped him.

“What about you?” Riley asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I…uh…what do you know about me?”

“You like to keep the peace.” Riley made a face. “You and Aidan have that in common.”

It didn’t sound like something good. Landry pushed down the worry expanding inside him. Riley doesn’t dislike you; remember how happy he was you caught his first pass as a Condor?

“We do,” Landry agreed. Didn’t like it, but it was undeniably true.

Probably why they’d become friends in the first place.

“What else?” Riley considered his own question. “You care a lot. Too much, probably. You worried about what Aidan would say to me today. You worried about what he’d say to me that night in Pittsburgh.”

“Of course I did,” Landry said.

Hoped Riley might think that was him only being nice.

Not because it lit him up inside whenever Riley smiled.

Thinking about that night, though, made Landry think about that night.

How Riley had flirted with him, and he’d loved it.

So much he’d only wanted more—but then, with his unerringly terrible timing, Aidan had interrupted them. Now they were back in a bar, in a dark corner alone, and Aidan wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Thank God.

“I think about that night sometimes,” Landry continued. A lot. More than I’m willing to admit to you. More than I’m even willing to admit to myself.

“Yeah?” The corner of Riley’s mouth tilted up.

It felt like an invitation.

Landry ignored the way his hands were suddenly damp with nerves and leaned in a little closer. “Don’t you?” he asked.

It came out a lot more confident than he felt—but it was the kind of thing he’d have said six months ago to a girl he liked. Riley was definitely not a girl. The fact that he wasn’t made his insides tremble and quake like he’d never experienced before.

Not just because of the nerves. Not just because this was all new to him.

That was all Riley.

“I do.” Riley paused. “I think about how you never answered my question.”

Landry’s heart short-circuited. Of course he knew what question Riley was referring to. He’d said his two brothers would’ve been all over him, trying to get Riley’s info, if they’d known how he’d grown up.

And then Riley had turned the tables.

Really? he’d asked. Just the two of them?

Landry hadn’t answered his question. Because he’d been terrified of the truth.

Was still kinda terrified.

But not for any reasons Riley probably assumed.

“No,” Landry said. His voice dropped. He heard how rough and desperate it sounded. Riley’s eyes widened, and staring into them was like drowning in the ocean, willingly. “No, not just them.”

Riley licked his lips and leaned in another inch. He smelled like the soap they stocked in the showers, and something indefinable, something bright and citrusy, that had to be just Riley.

He put a hand on Landry’s shoulder. “It’s not easy,” he murmured.

Riley didn’t have to say what wasn’t easy. Landry knew what he was talking about.

It’s not easy admitting it.

And he hadn’t gone nearly as far as he’d wanted to.

“What’s not easy?” Carter asked from behind them.

Landry didn’t know what they were doing—were they going to kiss?—but he still wanted to scream in frustration at Carter’s interruption.

“Playing in the NFL,” Riley said, stepping away from and around Landry. His voice was annoyingly steady, and he’d come up with that answer with barely a second of hesitation.

Maybe they hadn’t been half a second away from kissing.

Maybe Landry was reading all this wrong.

He hadn’t thought so. Riley hadn’t had to get so damn close, but he had anyway.

Carter didn’t exactly look convinced, though. “Does anyone think it’s easy?”

“Probably my brother,” Riley said, taking the glass of water from Carter’s hand. “Right, Landry?”

But Landry’s brain was still scrambling, trying to catch up on what had just happened. On what had almost just happened. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said.

Carter leaned against the wall. “The guys want to go soon, so I’ve been sent, officially, to fetch you,” he said. He made a face. “Calling it quits so early.”

“We have practice tomorrow and a game in two days,” Landry pointed out.

“Thanks, Dad,” Carter teased.

Before Landry could open his mouth and tell Carter he was wrong, Riley elbowed him in the side. “That’s Charlie,” he reminded him. “Not Landry.”

“Right,” Carter said, his grin widening. “Don’t want Landry to be your Daddy, huh?”

Riley rolled his eyes, but as they headed down the stairs, Landry thought he’d seen a spark of heat in those cool, blue eyes.