It didn’t feel very good, and it felt even worse when Trevor realized what he was saying.
“Wait, that was onme?” Trevor questioned, sounding shocked.
Lane shrugged.
Trevor threw up his arms, looking even more pissed now. “What the hell, man?” he demanded. “I didmyjob. How can you even come for me like that—”
“Everything alright?” Aidan asked smoothly. Popping up now, because of course he was.
Lane tried to kill him with a mind beam, but it turned out that Aidan was stronger than his admittedly weak psychic powers.
“Lane is full of shit, so yeah, I guess everything’s exactly as it usually is,” Trevor grumbled.
It was unfair, but Lane shouldn’t take it seriously. He’d handled this whole thing poorlyfirst. He couldn’t get his head out of his dick, or his dick out of his head.
“Oh?” Aidan asked, raising an eyebrow. Still living and breathing andhere, in spite of Lane desperately trying to communicate that he wasnotwelcome.
In a second, Trevor was going to tell Aidan exactly what Lane had said, and Aidan was going to nod earnestly and say,yeah, that’s pretty much how it went.
It was hard to imagine things getting worse, but that would guarantee it.
“Dude, Itoldyou,” Lane said, nudging him. “You gotta—”
“I know what I’m fucking doing, so stop patronizing me, okay?” Trevor shot him a hot look—not therightkind of hot look, either, and Lane was unpleasantly reminded why the team had nicknamed them the demon twins—and stomped off down the sideline.
“Fuck,” Lane groaned, shoving a hand through his hair.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Aidan said, because of course he did.
Aidan would be his normal Aidan self. Right, because he was Aidan Flynn. And kind of insufferable about it, because he was still Aidan Flynn.
But before Lane could intervene and say,that’s the worst idea you’ve had in awhile,Mo spoke up, unexpectedly. “No. I’ll do it.”
Aidan looked over at him, confusion written across his face. “What? Why?”
Mo sighed. “Aid, you know I love you, but you’re kinda the worst about this shit, okay? He’s a rookie. He’s feeling like he’s just gotten thrown in the deep end, and he doesn’t want someone to draw him a diagram, he wants someone to throw him a fucking rope.”
“I can throw a rope!” Aidan said self-righteously.
“Right, sure,” Mo said, but he was already turning, heading towards where Trevor had gone.
“Can I not?” Aidan asked, looking at Lane next. And Lane hadn’t even fucking said it.
But there was a frown knitting his eyebrows together, and Lane sighed. “Youcan, but you’re not the best rope thrower on the team. Youarethe best diagram drawer, though.”
Aidan sighed. “But—”
“No,” Lane said gently. “Let Mo do it. He’ll be better at it than either of us. And he’s—”
Lane broke off before he admitted something he had zero business telling Aidan, even if he was the captain of this team and the leader of the offense.
“He’s what?” Inevitably, Aidan wasgoingto ask, and Lane wished he hadn’t opened his big stupid mouth.
“He’s new to the team. New to Trevor. It’ll . . . uh . . . be better coming from him.”
Aidan stared at him hard. “Why do I get the feeling that was not what you were going to say?”
“Because I’m a shitty liar?”
