Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 124

Chapter 124

Aiden

I watched Noah move through the crowd with an ease that both impressed and unsettled me. He was mingling effortlessly with the very people who could catapult his career far beyond anything I had the power to offer. My chest tightened painfully. I knew I could shape him into a star player—break him down, rebuild him, push him past every boundary until he became stronger than even he imagined possible. But beyond the field, in the glittering world of private sponsorships and exclusive contacts, it was men like William Hart who held the keys to the kingdom.

Noah had the talent and the hunger; that much was undeniable. Everyone in this room could see it, too—he was a damn good player. But with Lexie’s popularity clinging to his side and her father’s open checkbook backing him, Noah would be untouchable. Unstoppable. And where did that leave me?

A sinking feeling settled deep in my gut as the harsh truth hit me harder than I wanted to admit: maybe the best thing I could do for Noah—the boy I’d claimed, the boy I couldn’t bear to lose—was to step back and let him have the future he deserved, even if it meant cutting myself out of it.

The thought was bitter, like swallowing poison.

I slipped away before my jealousy could consume me, before the sight of Lexie draped on his arm or Hart’s smug grin could twist me into someone who’d burn this whole circus down. The city lights blurred past my windshield as I drove home in silence, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly they ached.

Throughout the journey, the same battle raged inside my mind. What mattered more—my obsession, my desperate need to possess him and keep him close, or giving him the best chance at the life he dreamed of, even if it meant letting go?

I collapsed onto the couch once I got home, my jacket tossed carelessly over a chair. The silence of the house pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. My chest felt raw and exposed, torn open by the realization that I was in too deep—just as I’d feared from the very beginning.

I poured myself a drink, letting the burn settle thick on my tongue, when my phone buzzed.

Noah: Where are you? Did you leave me to the wolves?

My heart jumped at the sight of his name. Damn kid.

I sighed, my thumb hovering over the screen before I finally typed back.

You didn’t look too distressed.

Another buzz.

Are you jealous, Sir?

I clenched my jaw. The nerve.

Why would I be? You know the rules.

A pause. Then:

I’ll do my best considering.

I stared at the screen, the words hanging there like a challenge, daring me to respond. My thumb twitched, but I forced myself to set the phone down without replying.

Did he really want someone else? Was that the truth?

I ran a hand through my hair, the alcohol now burning hotter in my chest than in my throat. What the hell had I done—leaving a hormonal, half-crazed, needy boy unsupervised in a room full of beautiful girls who would have devoured him without hesitation?

Such a fool.

But then again—it was his life. His choice. Wasn’t it?

***

I stood and began pacing the living room, drink in hand, restless and unsettled. I poured another glass, then sat down to watch game footage, rewinding old practice sessions, breaking down plays as if it mattered. But it wasn’t the routes or the passes I was analyzing—it was him. Every flick of his wrist, every snap of his body as he launched the ball. My boy. My obsession.

Hours slipped by until my phone buzzed again.

Noah: I’m done here. I’m going home.

Before I could think twice, my fingers flew across the screen.

That cocky grin of his cracked through the screen as his hand moved, keeping pace with mine. The next few minutes dissolved into frantic breathing and the obscene slap of skin, both of us strung tight, racing as if it were a competition neither could afford to lose.

He came first, shuddering and moaning my name, spilling hot across his stomach, chest heaving as he gasped for air. Then I broke, groaning low, the vein pulsing along my cock as I spilled across my fist and belly in sharp, punishing bursts.

I ended the call the moment it was over. No words. Just silence. My chest rose and fell hard, my head spinning.

And there I was again—alone, reeling, wondering what the hell I was doing.

I dropped the phone onto the couch beside me, chest still heaving, the air thick with the sharp scent of sweat and release. For the first time all night, I felt loose, almost calm. My boy was home, sated, ready for the week ahead. First week of college, a fresh start. Maybe—just maybe—I could close my eyes without my mind racing.

***

I took a long shower, poured the last of my drink, then stretched out in bed. The house was quiet, the kind of silence that almost passed for peace. I let my eyes drift closed.

Buzz.

A smile tugged at my lips instantly. Noah. Of course. He couldn’t resist one more message.

I reached for the phone, half-grinning—until I saw it.

Not Noah.

A private number.

I know your little dirty secret.

The smile froze on my face. My heart stopped cold in my chest.