Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 170

Chapter 170

Aiden

“Happy Thanksgiving, baby.” I leaned in and gently kissed Noah awake that morning.

He shifted toward me, eyes still heavy with sleep, and returned my kiss without hesitation. It was a soft, drowsy kiss—the kind that tasted like something ordinary, like a normal relationship, if only we weren’t tangled in the mess we found ourselves in. For a brief moment, I let myself drift into a daydream: a couple waking up side by side, heading to the kitchen to prepare a turkey, playfully debating over cranberry sauce.

Noah looked breathtaking. I forced myself to etch the image into my mind—the way his lashes brushed his cheeks, his lips still plush from sleep, his body warm and close against mine. I tried hard to push thoughts of tomorrow away. To ignore the ticking clock, the voices in my head warning me this wouldn’t last. I clung to the present, knowing that one day, I might long for exactly this—the peace, the safety, the feeling of waking with him beside me.

God, I was all too familiar with this feeling. And with the fear that came along with it. Both belonged to a certain L word I hated admitting out loud.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” he whispered back, a soft smile playing at his lips.

We hadn’t discussed any plans for the holiday or how the evening might unfold. Of course, I would have loved to spend the day with him, but I understood if his priorities lay elsewhere.

“So,” I said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, “what do you want to do tonight?”

He sighed deeply. “Honestly? I don’t want to see my father again. But at the same time… I hate the thought of Emily stuck there with him hovering.”

My chest tightened painfully. “We’ll figure it out,” I promised, pressing a slow, tender kiss to his lips.

We got ready side by side, stealing lazy kisses between shaving and buttoning our shirts. Then we headed out for a decent breakfast before he left for the hospital.

Once he was gone, the hotel room felt unbearably silent. I pulled out my phone and dialed home.

By lunchtime, I was back at the hospital to meet Noah. I stopped at the gift shop to pick out some flowers for Emily. I was torn between a wilted bouquet of lilies and a sad bunch of roses when I suddenly sensed someone behind me.

“Well, Coach Mercer, isn’t it?”

I didn’t flinch. Turning around, flowers in hand, I found James Blake standing uncomfortably close, a smirk plastered across his face—one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Mr. Blake,” I said evenly, “taking a break from the hospital room?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Something like that. I just couldn’t help but notice how… dedicated you are. Flying across the country with my boy. Staying through the holiday. That’s quite a commitment for a coach, don’t you think?”

I kept my voice steady. “Noah’s a star player. His development matters. I make sure my players are taken care of—both on and off the field.”