Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 152

Chapter 152

They looked utterly exhausted—like they’d been dragged through a storm and left to wither. Sleep-deprived, nursing hangovers, and clearly starving. “Go home,” I finally snapped, unable to mask the exhaustion in my voice. “Eat something, get some rest. If you show up on Monday looking like walking corpses, I swear, I’ll personally bury you all.”

Grateful, they scattered quickly, eager to escape. As much as I wanted to send one particular wreck home too, I was stuck waiting for his damn tutoring session to wrap up.

God, I hated those hours. Sitting alone in my cluttered office, watching the clock tick painfully slow while Noah sat with that stunning tutor I’d chosen for him—yeah, I still couldn’t figure out why I’d done that to myself—was pure torture. But it was either her or the new overly enthusiastic, openly gay intern the school had hired this year, so… well, there wasn’t much choice.

Finally, when I knew the session was over, I didn’t waste a second and headed straight to the locker room. There he was—done with tutoring, finally all mine—standing by his locker, peeling off his shirt as if he had all the time in the world.

My patience snapped. I cornered him before he could even blink, slamming the locker shut with a sharp thud.

“Forget that,” I ordered, my voice low and biting. “Grab your stuff. We’re going home. Now.”

I paused only to grab a few things for tonight and tomorrow’s surprise. By the time I pulled into the driveway, his bike was already tucked neatly inside the garage.

The moment I stepped inside, a wave of bliss washed over me—my favorite part of the week. Smooth jazz hummed softly through the speakers, a cocktail waited on the side table, perfectly made just the way I liked it. Sage and palo santo smoke curled lazily from the incense burner, filling the room with a calming warmth. And there, bathed in the flickering candlelight, was my beautiful, naked boy—kneeling with his back straight, his blue eyes locked onto mine.

“I’ve been waiting all week,” he shot back, bold and cheeky in that way he only dared with me. “At least to be alone… and loud.”

I chuckled, slowly peeling off my shirt just to watch his pupils darken as the fabric slipped to the floor. His breath hitched when I unbuckled my belt—the clink of metal loud in the quiet, candlelit room. By the time I stepped out of my pants, he was practically vibrating with anticipation.

“Get in,” I said softly, nodding toward the tub. He slid into the hot water, letting it envelop his body, his gaze never leaving mine. I followed, sinking down right behind him, letting the warm water swallow us both as the jazz played faintly in the background.

I raised my glass, handing it over before taking a sip myself. “To us,” I murmured, then leaned forward to brush my lips against his again—slow this time—letting the steam, the music, and the quiet intimacy wrap us in the kind of paradise only we could create.