10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Kieran knew the moment Jon walked in something was wrong.

He was in the middle of pouring a beer and he had five tickets full of Mermaids' Assholes and passionfruit mojitos waiting on him, but he set the beer on the bar and turned to Nadia. "Give me five," he said.

Nadia gave him an understanding nod as Kieran skirted around the bar and guided Jon by the elbow to the end, to a quiet corner. "Hey," he said, "what's wrong?"

"How do you know something's wrong?" Jon asked wryly as he took a seat and Kieran climbed onto the barstool next to him. He only had five minutes—six, maybe, if Nadia was feeling kind—and yet he didn't want to leave until he knew what was going on.

"Your face tells the whole story."

And there it fell even more.

"Perez— Nelson— got injured today. In practice. Blew out his knee." Jon let out a breath. "I think he's done for the season."

Nelson Perez was the Condors' starting quarterback and the guy that Jon had spent the last few months building his offense around.

This was a serious blow. And right after they were all beginning to feel like the Condors might defy expectations and be better this year than they had any right to be.

Kieran understood exactly why Jon looked so devastated.

"What are you gonna do? Start Charlie?" Kieran asked, referring to the backup quarterback, who was mid-thirties, a year older than Jonathan himself, and had been picked up more to coach Nelson than to actually take the field.

"We can't ," Jon said, the confession wrenched from him. "Not for a whole season."

"What else are you gonna do?" Kieran knew that money was tight—mostly because they were still paying some of the shit players they'd had to let go for character problems.

It was unfair, but that was the NFL for you.

"I don't know." Jon sighed. "Mr. G has some ideas. Unconventional ideas. But what else can we do? Charlie's great, but he's thirty-five and a better coach than he is a player. He'll even be the first one to tell you that."

"It's not ideal."

Kieran knew how upset Jon was, because he reached out for Kieran, putting a hand on his knee and squeezing.

They weren't exactly hiding , but they were still being circumspect. Kieran tried to let Jon set the pace and the tone, but sometimes it was hard. Like this time, when he wanted nothing more than to grab his man and pull him into a big hug.

"You want a drink?"

"Am I still coming up blank?" Jon asked, trying to make a joke and cracking a weak smile.

"Yeah but I got you, baby." Kieran slid off the barstool. "One sec."

"Sorry." Jon winced. "I know you guys are busy."

"Not ever too busy for you," Kieran promised. He looped around the back of the bar and grabbed some bottles, pouring them into a squat glass.

Set it in front of Jon.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Cherry old-fashioned," Kieran said and dropped three—not one, not two, but three— cherries into the glass. Only the best for his lover.

He'd give him the whole fucking container of cherries if it would cheer Jon up.

Jon fished a cherry out of the glass and popped it in his mouth. Kieran might've normally made a joke, but he could tell this wasn't the right moment for a quip about popping his gay cherry.

"So," he said instead, "tell me about these unconventional ideas of Mr. G's."

"You know Aidan Flynn?"

Kieran tried to keep his jaw connected to his face. "Aidan Flynn? You mean the Aidan Flynn that's the all-star, Super Bowl-winning quarterback for the Toronto Thunder?"

"That's the one. And no, we don't magically have more room in the budget for a guy like him. But he has a younger brother. Riley. Smaller. Which is why he didn't go in the first round of the draft. Which is why he's playing in the XFL right now. But playing lights out . Mr. G thinks if we don't scoop him up, someone else will."

"And you don't want him 'cause he's what . . .small? How small is he?" Kieran had to wonder. If this little brother was that good and also had Aidan Flynn as his older brother . . .could he be too small?

"He's not that small, just smaller than the norm, you know? Maybe 5'9"? But he's built , too. As solid of a guy as I've ever seen, and elusive."

"Sounds like you like him," Kieran pointed out.

Jon shrugged. "I want to. But then I think of totally re-thinking the offense and I kinda want to cry."

"Would it be that different?"

"Yeah. Riley Flynn can throw, sure, but he can run, too."

"I liked Perez too, but maybe there's an upside here."

Jon frowned into his drink. "A downside, too."

"You can't think of it that way. Sure it might not work out, but think of what could happen if this Riley guy works out? You knew you had a ceiling with Perez, as much as we all liked him. You were designing an offense around him 'cause you knew he had limitations. What if you had a guy with no limitations? Where the sky—where your imagination— was the limit?" Kieran didn't think he was particularly good at pep talks; that wasn't his forte, after all. He wasn't the football coach. He was just a guy who owned a bar called the Pirate's Booty.

A name he'd only picked because a friend had bet him that he wouldn't dare.

But if Jon needed a pep talk, then he'd do his best.

Jon reached out and brushed his knuckles over the back of Kieran's hand.

"How did you know that was exactly what I needed to hear?" he asked wryly.

"I . . ." Kieran was going to say he'd guessed, because wasn't that what he'd done? But no. That wasn't it at all. He'd known Jon needed that. He knew Jon. He loved Jon.

"Doesn't matter, actually," Jon said, shaking his head and smiling, finally . Because obviously he didn't know what Kieran had just realized. Not what he'd just started feeling, because no, he'd been feeling like this for awhile now. Just hadn't put two and two together until now.

Until he'd looked at this man across his bar and realized that he was the one , the one he'd given up finding, sure that his life with his business and his friends was plenty. That he was happy . But he hadn't really been, not in the way he could be. Not until he'd met Jon.

"No, it doesn't," Kieran agreed. "As long as it helped. That's all that matters."

Jon took a long sip of his drink. "I shouldn't be surprised anymore, but this is really good."

"You shouldn't," Kieran said, grinning.

The realization he loved Jon had thrown him—but not for as long as he'd expected it might. It had only taken a minute for him to go, Okay, yeah, I do love him. And pretty sure he loves me too. We're happy. We're gonna be happy .

"I can't believe your superpower still doesn't work on me. I'm trying not to take it personally."

"I just think it means you're very special," Kieran said. He wasn't ready to say those magical three little words yet—and when he did, he wasn't going to do it with Nadia throwing him increasingly desperate looks every minute or so as an increasingly thirsty crowd gathered.

"Okay. I like that."

"Grab your drink." Kieran skirted around the back of the bar and took Jon's elbow, leading him down the hallway towards the bathrooms and his little box of an office.

Jon barely waited until the door was closed before setting the glass on the side of his desk and cupping Kieran's cheeks in his hands, kissed him hard.

He tasted like cherries and whiskey and the man Kieran loved.

Kieran only had a moment to really feel it so he felt it. Lost himself in the feel of Jon's lips on his, warm and insistent, his hands sliding down his shoulders, gripping him firmly, like he never wanted to let him go.

"There," Jon said, finally letting him go, Kieran feeling as wobbly as if he'd been the one to drink that old-fashioned. "Now you're properly thanked. Somehow you knew I wanted to do that, too."

"Maybe I just knew that I wanted you to thank me," Kieran said with a low chuckle. "I wish I could stay. I wish I could kiss you a whole lot more, but I've got to help Nadia."

"I know. I appreciate what you could do. You're gonna be off late tonight, though, yeah?"

"Yeah." Probably not until two or three in the morning. Far too late to see Jon, who had to be at the practice facility at seven for the start of his day.

It wasn't like this was news. Their schedule had been a little tough to figure out from day one. But they'd done it, no complaints, only bringing solutions to the table.

And today wasn't any different.

"Would you mind . . ." Jon hesitated. "I could sleep at your place tonight? I know it's not much, but . . .it'd be something?"

Of course Jon would bring the solution. "I'll only wake you up for a brief peck," Kieran said.

Jon grinned. "Maybe a little more than a brief peck."

"I could handle that," Kieran said. Pressed one last kiss to Jon's lips and guided him out of his office, towards the bar. "You sticking around?"

"I'll have a drink or two," Jon said. "I brought my laptop. Thought I could answer emails while I sit here and watch you like a total creeper."

Kieran laughed at that. Had no chance at keeping the sound inside. "Only if its mutual," he said.

"It's mutual," Jon said, pressing one last touch to his shoulder, before he had to go disappear behind the bar.