Page 51 of Perfect Storm
But of course, he didn’t.
He just didn’t.
Aidan kind of wanted to yell it, right there, in the middle of the cafeteria.Why aren’t you saying it? Why are you pretending like it didn’t happen?
Instead, Levi took a step back, giving Aidan a very cute wink. God, he even thoughtthatwas cute. He actuallywasembarrassing. “So, don’t worry about that, okay? Promise me?”
It was not a hard promise to give. “Uh, sure. Yeah. Of course.”
Levi patted him on the cheek, the touch fleeting, but Aidan felt it all the way down, deep in his stomach.
“Excited about tonight,” Levi said.
For a split second, Aidan almost imagined that Levi was talking about something else. Not a trip out to a bar or a club, but just the two of them, circling each other in his condo.
But that wasn’t what this was. Despite the flustered comment and the admission Levi had made about flirting with him, he didn’t seem to have any interest in pushing it any further.
“Me too.” Aidan tried not to be disappointed. Levi patted him on the cheek again.
“It’ll be lit,” Levi told him.
Aidan almost said what he was thinking, which was that he hoped it wouldn’t betoolit. But he was trying to loosen up a little.Just a little, Levi had said. And he could do that.
Hecould.
“Oh my God,” Levi exclaimed as Wes led them down a dark-ish Toronto alley. “It’s like asecretbar.”
“Oh yeah,” Wes said, glancing back. “It’s called Vault. Some kind of play on the old-fashioned speakeasies. There’s no sign or anything.” He looked down, consulting something on his phone as they walked deeper into the alley.
Aidan shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and wished he hadn’t worn his Patek Philippe watch. They were probably going to get mugged and his lawyer would give him a look like,what the fuck did you expect?
“Is this the kind of place you guys normally go?” It was the rookie punter, Cameron, his voice wavering a little, apprehension clear on his baby face, even in the dim light.
“No, which makes it better,” Dawson said, reassuringly.
“Hell yes,” Lane agreed.
“This better be worth all the fucking theatrics,” Nate muttered under his breath.
“It’s worth it,” Wes reassured them. “It’s just down here.”
He guided their group further in, then down a set of stained concrete steps set into the ground.
“It’s like we’re descending into hell.” Lane sounded delighted by this.
“Only you,” Trevor muttered.
There was a black wooden door, shiny with lacquer, at the bottom of the stairs. To the right of the door was a gold key, shining in the murk of the alley.
That was the only sign.
“We’re gonna get killed,” Cam whispered behind him. “Our organs harvested. That happens in big cities, right?”
“Rook, I promise you, I’m gonna personally make sure your organs stay unharvested,” Dawson murmured back.
Wes knocked on the door—a distinctive knock, even; two long knocks punctuated by one short one—and a hidden window in the door opened.
“Holy shit,” Lane exclaimed.
