The Star (Charleston Condors Book 1)
The Star: Chapter 21

LANDRY SHOULD’VE EXPECTED IT was coming.

Should have seen it from a million miles away.

But Monday afternoon, a little over twenty-four hours after he and Riley had confronted Aidan, his best friend called him.

Didn’t just call him. Facetimed him.

Right, of course, as Landry was watching as Riley moved his stuff from the guest room closet to his own closet from the bed.

He’d hoped to christen the closet after, before they had to be at Carter’s for a Monday victory party, but then, his phone had rung.

“You gonna take that?” Riley asked as he folded t-shirts.

Landry stared at his phone’s screen—at the picture of Aidan he’d taken ages ago, with a silly expression on his face, his tongue sticking out, looking lighter than he ever looked these days.

“Yeah,” Landry said, sliding off the bed. “I’ll be downstairs.”

“It’s my brother, isn’t it?” Riley asked, but he didn’t give Landry a chance to answer. “Be easy on him, okay?”

Even after all the shit Aidan had given him, Riley still wanted the best for him.

If Landry needed any additional evidence that his boyfriend was the best guy in the world, there it was.

“Hey,” he answered as he took the stairs down, a few at a time. He settled against the kitchen island as Aidan’s face popped up on the screen again. This time, it was easy to see the stark differences between the old Aidan and the new. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The new looked weary and tired, gray circles under his eyes. Like he’d spent too many late nights soul-searching.

Landry discovered that he wasn’t even angry anymore. He just wished he could find that old Aidan again and bring him back.

“I’ve been a dick,” Aidan said bluntly.

But then, that was Aidan’s way, wasn’t it?

“Yeah, kinda,” Landry admitted.

Aidan sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“What was that? Should I record it and play it back for you every once in a while?” Landry teased.

He saw a flash of the old Aidan in the way he smiled.

“Fuck you,” Aidan retorted lightly.

“Did you call to point out any other obvious observations or give me the shovel talk or…”

Aidan laughed, the sound rusty, like he didn’t do much laughing these days.

“No shovel talk necessary. I meant it yesterday. You’re a good guy. The best guy. I wouldn’t want my brother to be with anyone else. And he’s pretty cool, too. I’m happy for you two.”

“Thanks,” Landry said. Meaning it. “I’m really happy for us, too.”

“I can tell, you know? You look it.”

“You guys are gonna get your shit together,” Landry said, changing the subject. He knew the Thunder’s loss to the Condors was probably still smarting. Would sting for a lot longer than a single week. “And then you’re gonna be a force to be reckoned with.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aidan said, rolling his eyes. “Maybe not this year. But soon. I gotta just…figure out my shit. The shit with this offense. These new guys can’t catch the ball worth a damn.”

“They’ll get there. They’re just young.” And Landry knew Aidan was still missing Mo. In what ways? Landry wasn’t sure, but even if it was only on the field, that would suck.

“Guess I’ll have to find some patience,” Aidan said wryly.

“Good luck with that.”

“Hey,” Aidan said in mock outrage. “I can be patient.”

“If you wanna win, you better look real damn hard.”

“Yeah.”

For a long moment, they just looked at each other.

Was Aidan thinking the same thing Landry was? Will we ever be okay again? Will you be angry with me forever for what happened with Riley?

“I want things to be solid between us,” Aidan said after clearing his throat.

Landry couldn’t deny it; he was more than a little shocked. He hadn’t actually expected Aidan to tackle the elephant in the room.

“I want that, too,” Landry said and knew, in his heart, it was true.

“Good. Good.”

“And if we both want that, then we’ll make it happen,” Landry said confidently.

“You think so?” Aidan sounded unsure. So unlike him. Landry’s hand tightened on the phone because, no matter how frustrated he could be with his best friend, he never wanted him to be lost. Not like this.

“Would you bet against us?” Landry challenged.

Aidan’s expression broke into a bright, fierce grin.

There he is.

The old Aidan.

The Aidan I’d follow anywhere.

“No fucking way,” Aidan said.

And Landry knew then that they would be fine.

Riley got out of Landry’s car and couldn’t help the shocked expression currently crossing his face.

“Are you sure this is the right address?” he asked Landry as he closed the door behind him.

“Yeah,” Landry said, nodding. “It’s right. I just never expected…”

“For Carter to live in a place that looks like an actual home? Me, either.”

It was confirmed then because the front door swung open, and Carter walked out onto the wraparound porch, shading his eyes from the setting sun.

“I told you,” Carter said as they approached the stairs. “Deacon was full of shit.”

“Unless you’re hiding a bunch of dead bodies in the basement, your house is most definitely not a mausoleum,” Riley agreed. “But I’m surprised.”

“That I live in an ordinary house?” Carter chuckled.

“So normal,” Landry said under his breath, clearly just as mystified as Riley was.

The further they’d driven out of downtown, the more surprised Riley had become, but even then, he’d not expected this big rambling farmhouse, painted a cheery, normal yellow, with white trim and white plantation shutters, and then there was the wraparound porch.

It did not look like the house of a guy who routinely indulged in threesomes and more.

“Well, come on in. I got pizza,” Carter said. “And hot wings, which Deacon and Jem are attempting to demolish by the dozen.”

The inside of the house was just as normal as the outside, filled with comfortable-looking couches, warm walls covered in brightly colored artwork, and Jem and Deacon, a growing pile of chicken wing bones on a plate on the coffee table in front of them.

“Food and beer’s in the kitchen. There’s pop, too, if you’re not drinking, Riley,” Carter said, and he sounded self-conscious. Like he wasn’t used to hosting his teammates at his house.

“This is actually really nice,” Riley said, reaching over and patting him on the shoulder. “It’s a very nice house. We just didn’t expect it.”

“Us either. I asked him if the basement was where the orgies were, and he just laughed at me,” Jem said, sounding mildly outraged.

“Like I’d bring any of those hookups here,” Carter said, rolling his eyes. “To my personal space. Where they could stalk me anytime they wanted. Please.”

“Sex with you leads to stalking?” Deacon asked, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of sex are you having?”

“The best kind of sex, baby,” Carter said, winking at him. “You wanna try it sometime?”

“And become enthralled to you for life? No, thank you,” Deacon retorted.

There was a knock on the front door. “Oh, must be Beck or Micah,” Carter said, standing up.

“You invited both of them?” Riley was surprised. Yes, they’d played together well on Sunday. But in the locker room after the game and on the plane ride home, it was clear from their mutual silence, nothing else had changed.

But since they had performed well on the field, Riley had decided it was up to them to handle it.

Clearly, Deacon had had other ideas.

Or maybe this was just more of Carter’s bullshit.

“Carter said he invited them,” Jem said, lowering his voice, “because he wanted them both to be our friends. That we weren’t going to pick between them. So they’d have to get used to being around each other.”

“That’s…” Landry hesitated next to Riley, coming back into the living room with two plates piled high with pizza slices and wings, “actually kind of sweet?”

“Don’t let Carter hear you say that. He’ll go on a week-long Bacchanalian tear, and now that our record’s two and one, we need him to keep his dick in his pants at least long enough to play,” Deacon said with an affectionate huff.

“Whose dick in whose pants?” It was Micah who asked as he and Carter came into the living room.

“Carter’s. Who else?” Deacon said. He wiped his face and hands with a wet wipe and stood, pulling Micah into a quick embrace. “Good to see you, man. So glad you came.”

“I was real glad to be invited,” Micah said, looking like he was still surprised he’d been included. He greeted Landry next, then turned to Riley. “How you doing?” he asked after he’d carefully hugged Riley. “Your ribs okay?”

“They’re okay,” Riley said. Actually, they hurt like a motherfucker. But he didn’t say it because he wasn’t focusing on that today. He was still living in the thrill of having beaten the Thunder and his brother. Nothing hurt whenever he thought about that.

“He’s tough, tougher than anyone imagined,” Jem said approvingly.

“Go sit down. I’ll grab you some food,” Carter told Micah.

Landry patted the spot on the couch next to him. “Yeah, seriously, come sit. You just missed Carter propositioning Deacon, who turned him down flat.”

“At least he didn’t laugh at me like Beck did,” Carter said, then froze. Like he realized what he’d just said.

Shit, we were doing so well, Riley thought mournfully.

“You hit on Beck?” Micah’s eyebrows were nearly to his hairline.

Carter shot him a speculative look. Then, clearly decided it was worth owning. “Yeah,” he admitted.

Riley was about to intervene and say, Don’t worry about it. Carter does it to basically everyone. I’m sure you’ll be next.

But before he could, Micah just chuckled darkly under his breath. “Well, Beck’s a good-lookin’ guy,” he said. “Don’t blame you for trying.”

Landry’s knee nudged Riley’s, but Riley had caught all the undercurrent. You’d have to be blind and deaf to miss it.

“Yeah,” Carter said brightly. “See? I’m not such a horndog.”

“You are the worst kind of horndog,” Jem said with a grin. “But we love you anyway.”

“Aw guys, you’re the best,” Carter said. “I’d yell group hug, but Jem’s covered in hot wing sauce, and Riley’s ribs probably couldn’t take it.”

“Probably not,” Landry said.

He’d been one of the few to see them in their full mottled black-and-blue-with-even-a-few-fun-shades-of-purple-thrown-in-for-good-measure glory. The concern in his eyes had told Riley everything he needed to know about how bad they were.

But he’d be okay. The pain had been better this morning, and by the time next Sunday’s game rolled around, he’d be in good shape.

“So if you don’t hook up with anyone here,” Jem said, “where do you hook up with them?”

“Hotels, duh,” Carter said. “Isn’t that what y’all do?”

“Deacon here’s going for a record level of abstinence,” Jem said dryly, “Riley and Landry don’t need to worry about it because they’re way too in love to ever consider anyone else, and as for me, I’m apparently less of a sex god than you because nobody’s ever stalked me in order to repeat the experience.”

“It’s alright,” Carter said, patting Jem affectionately on the head as he passed by. “Not everyone can be me.”

“Thank god for small mercies,” Micah said with a laugh. “You guys are really interesting. Different kind of interesting than my old teammates in Miami.”

“Yeah, what were they like?” Riley asked, genuinely curious.

“There’s some young guys, some older guys. We even had a coach who hung with us sometimes. Pax’s guy,” Micah said. “Davis. He’s a good dude.” It went unspoken that the Condors had fucked him over—at least the previous version of the Condors.

“Did you know Mr. G extended him an invite to come back here and play? As sort of an apology?” Riley spoke up.

Micah shook his head. “I didn’t know that, but I can’t imagine Davis would take it. He’s crazy about Pax. Well, they’re crazy about each other.” His voice went wry. Not envious, not exactly, but something like that. “And there’s these two rooks, well, I guess they aren’t rookies anymore, but they fucked constantly. Like Carter here level of fucking. We had to knock on every single freaking door to make sure we didn’t walk in on them. I sort of expected you two to be like that at first,” Micah said, gesturing towards Riley and Landry. “But then I remembered your bro and his boyfriend, Dylan. They’re not much for PDA either, which…”

“Thank God,” Jem said. “Imagine if we had two Carters floating around.”

“You’d only be so lucky,” Carter retorted.

“But yeah, they were good guys. I was lucky to play with them. Now, I’m lucky to play with you,” Micah said.

“And we’re lucky to have you,” Riley said.

Micah flushed at this compliment, looking pleased.

“Thought y’all would’ve invited Beck to this. He’s normally your go-to guy, yeah?” Micah asked self-consciously.

“We did,” Deacon said kindly.

“Oh. Oh.” Micah licked his lips nervously and reached for the open bottle of beer Carter had handed him. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

It made sense that Beck had skipped this get-together because he’d figured Micah would be invited? Ouch, Riley thought, that sucked.

“I think,” Jem said, speaking up, “that we’re all very lucky you’re here. Lucky to be together, lucky to be doing something about this team that isn’t just running it into the ground.” He raised his bottle of beer. “To the Condors. May we always fly high!”

“This place is so nice,” Riley said as he relaxed against the edge of the wraparound porch. “It’s peaceful out here.”

“You ever want to live out here like this, in the country?” Landry asked as he wrapped an arm around Riley’s waist, pulling him against him gently, still clearly worried about Riley’s ribs.

“Maybe someday,” Riley said. “But for now, I like your house.”

“Enough you aren’t going to move out?”

“No,” Riley said with a smile. “I think I’ve found just the right place.”

“Right next to me?” Landry sounded hopeful. But not only that, confident, too. Like he not only knew what Riley meant, but that he believed in it just as strongly as Riley did.

“Yeah,” Riley said.

His phone dinged. And then dinged again and again and again, like a flood of texts were coming through.

“What’s that?” Riley asked, feeling a bit of apprehension washing over him. He dug his phone out of his pocket, hoping nothing terrible had happened.

But he didn’t think so, as he stared at the screen.

All the texts were from Aidan.

It wasn’t his normal format—he hadn’t emailed, he explained, because that was what he used to do, and they were starting over, fresh—but in the texts was his usual breakdown of the game.

Well, not in his usual way, Riley realized as he read through each and every message. He did give a few helpful pointers, but there was plenty of praise. A lot of praise, in fact.

Aidan rounded out the last message with something Riley could barely believe and might not have believed if it wasn’t right there on the screen in black and white.

I’m sorry I tried to get you to quit. I’m sorry I tried to control you. But I’m most sorry that you thought I wouldn’t be happy for you.

Not everything’s great here, but we’re fighting, we’re working, and I think I let some of that strain ruin me and you because I was so afraid you’d beat us. Well, you did, and it was well-deserved.

But I’m sorry I made you think even for a second that I wasn’t happy for you. I am. I’m even happy you’re with Landry now. At least I don’t ever have to worry about you finding the great partner you deserve because he’s the best. Talk to you soon. A

“Wow,” Landry said, his head hooked over Riley’s shoulder as he read each text right alongside Riley.

Riley couldn’t believe it. It was everything he’d ever wanted from his brother and nothing he’d ever expected he’d get. Aidan must have done some real soul-searching to send this.

“Did you…” Riley trailed off.

Because Aidan and Landry had talked earlier today. Privately.

“No,” Landry said firmly. “No, this is all him. Well, other than you schooling him very firmly yesterday.”

“I guess that really got through to him.”

“That, and,” Landry added, squeezing Riley gently, “this is the Aidan I knew existed all along. I thought maybe he was lost. Maybe even gone forever. But not so much.”

“Not anymore,” Riley said. He was smiling so hard it hurt.

“What are you gonna say to him?” Landry wondered.

What could he say? Riley thought he had a million responses and no responses at all, both at the same time.

“I don’t know,” he finally said slowly. “I think…I think it’s pretty simple, isn’t it?”

“What?” Landry said.

Riley typed it out one word at a time. I love you, too, big bro, he sent back.

It was all he needed to say. All he could say.

Landry brushed a sweet kiss against the top of his head. “Every time I think I know you,” he said with wonderment in his voice, “I see a new side of you, and I fall in love all over again.”

“Seeing me in various states of undress doesn’t count,” Riley teased, even though he knew what Landry meant.

“Oh, it counts,” Landry said. The next kiss he pressed to Riley’s mouth wasn’t so sweet. But Riley couldn’t deny it was satisfying.

“What are we gonna do now, now that your brother doesn’t hate us and isn’t giving you shit?” Landry asked, and Riley knew his question was probably rhetorical, but he answered it anyway.

“Be happy and stupidly, ridiculously in love for the rest of our lives,” Riley said firmly. “How does that sound?”

Landry grinned. “Nothing’s ever sounded better.”

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