Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 108

Chapter 108

Aiden

I wasn’t at home. I should have been— that was the plan all along. But the truth was, I was unbearably dependent on this kid. The idea of being alone in my own space without him around was suffocating. If Noah ever chose to walk away from me, I’d have no choice but to find somewhere new to live… somewhere that didn’t feel so empty and cold.

So instead of sitting in the silence of my apartment, waiting for him, I found myself tucked away in a corner booth at a familiar pub I’d frequented for years. The dim lighting cast soft shadows across the worn wooden table as I nursed a drink I wasn’t really tasting. My eyes followed the bubbles as they climbed the glass, my mind spiraling deeper and deeper into a tightening knot of thoughts.

Everything had been moving at a breakneck speed lately—too fast, too intense—bordering on obsession and reckless risk-taking. It was madness, pure and simple. And yet, I couldn’t stop. I was utterly consumed by him.

Noah had played incredibly well today. His speed had sharpened, his cuts were precise, his reads flawless. His release on the quick slant was perfect, his dropbacks smooth as silk, and the way he connected with Keon on the deep post was textbook execution. He was faster, more focused, and sharper than I’d ever seen him before—truly one of the best players I’d ever trained or even played alongside.

He had a future—a bright, promising future.

And it was my responsibility to make sure nothing, no one, could ever dim that light.

That’s why I was here now. Not to put distance between us, but to clear my head long enough to plan. To strategize. I couldn’t just think of him as my boy, my charge—I had to think like his coach, the man shaping the trajectory of the next few years of his life.

I pulled out my tablet and opened the contact lists I’d been meticulously updating for months: sponsors, local press, alumni, donors. Names that mattered. I sent out the first round of invitations—highlighting the team, yes, but planting the seed of something bigger. Our first game. Our rising star. Hints dropped like breadcrumbs about the quarterback with the arm, the vision, the presence.

It was all about Noah.

He didn’t even realize it yet, but soon the world would.

Because when it came down to it, I’d rather sacrifice myself than watch him squander his potential. If that meant stepping back, if that meant watching him shine from the sidelines of his own life instead of holding him too tightly in mine, then so be it. I had to do it.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

I was debating whether to message him, weighing the risks of seeming too controlling, when my phone buzzed sharply across the table, yanking me away from sponsors and polished phrasing. His name lit up the screen.

Where are you?

A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. I typed slowly, deliberately.

You keeping tabs on me, boy? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

My jaw tightened, and a sharp heat surged through me. Cindy. His so-called cover story, I was sure. The thought of her hands on him, or even her believing she had him, made my blood boil.

Another message popped up.

I’m bored. I wanna get out of here.

My thumb hovered over the keyboard, heart pounding. He was unraveling, confessing without words, begging me to be his anchor.

I typed a single line.

Meet me at Spencer’s.

And hit send.

Spencer’s was one of the few places I trusted for myself—clean lines, high quality, never flashy or over the top. I practically sprinted here, though I forced myself to slow down before stepping through the doors, not wanting to seem too eager.

The familiar hum of quiet conversations and clinking glasses surrounded me as I settled into a booth, waiting for him to arrive.