Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 189

Chapter 189

Noah

Today, on that flight, in those maddening seconds hidden behind the curtain—Aiden’s breath barely brushing against mine, his lips hovering just above my mouth, both of us teetering on the edge of disaster—I felt something I hadn’t experienced in weeks.

A profound sense of peace.

Since that final night at his house—when his arms had been my entire world and I’d fallen asleep to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—I hadn’t felt this stillness inside. Even as my pulse thundered in my ears, even with the looming threat hanging over us like a guillotine, that stolen kiss silenced everything. Lately, life had been reduced to mere survival.

Smiling when I was supposed to. Nodding at the right moments. Speaking the carefully chosen words that felt like grit in my mouth.

Each day was a test of control—suppressing the urge to run to his door, to beg for just one more night. Pretending my chest didn’t tighten every time I saw him at practice, every time our eyes met and we quickly looked away.

It was torture. And I was becoming an expert at pretending it wasn’t.

William had laid down the law with no ambiguity. No contact outside official team events. No unexplained absences. No whispers that could cast doubt on Coach Mercer and his star quarterback.

And God forbid William was ever nearby—his presence seemed to stretch across every inch of my life, shadowing my every move. There were always eyes on me: private trainers during the week, Lexie by my side whenever I wasn’t buried in books, family dinners and sponsor events filling my weekends. Even when William wasn’t physically present, it felt like he was everywhere.

The holidays were fast approaching, and I was running on empty—one breath away from breaking down. But before everything was sealed, before my life became just another transaction in William’s empire, there was one thing I clung to.

The Heisman Trophy.

That night, that stage, that award—it wasn’t about politics or press for me. It was the one thing that still felt truly mine. Mine and Aiden’s.

No one else had shaped me the way he had. No one else had believed in me, pushed me, broken me down and rebuilt me into the player I am today. If I stood among the best, if I was even nominated, it was because of him. Every yard gained, every victory, every moment that led me here carried his name beneath it.

Her parents were seated across from us—William in a sharp black tuxedo that radiated power and control, Eleanor poised beside him, her jewelry understated but unmistakably expensive. Together, they looked every bit the dynasty they wanted the world to see: proud, composed, and perfectly prepared for the cameras.

And then there was Aiden.

Across the room, near the front, he stood in conversation with a reporter, his posture impeccable, his expression calm and collected. His suit was a tailored black so flawless it made everyone else seem underdressed. A crisp white shirt, a narrow black tie, and the subtle gleam of a cufflink caught the light when he moved his hand.

He was breathtakingly handsome, and for a dizzying moment, I forgot how to breathe.

He shouldn’t have come. He didn’t need to. Yet there he was—steady, professional, the embodiment of poise—and when our eyes met, even if only for a heartbeat, his smile softened.

That was all I needed to know. He was here for me. Still.