Chapter 25
Noah
I had never been someone afraid of a challenge.
If anything, I chased them.
From the time I could walk, I wanted to prove I could run. If someone older said I couldn’t do something, I did it. If someone stronger beat me, I trained harder. I wasn’t just obsessed with winning–I was obsessed with earning approval. A nod from a coach, a pat on the back from a teacher. That look. That rare, quiet, “Good job, son.”
My story’s full of cracks like that–chasing love where it was never offered, chasing pride where shame was all I got in return.
I asked too many questions when I was a kid. Not out loud, just in my head. Questions about bodies and rules and how other boys just seemed to know stuff I didn’t. Things that didn’t make sense to me. Things I was curious about.
When I was seven, I was playing with my best friend, Max, on a hot summer day, running under our neighbor’s sprinklers. As we lay on the grast to take a break–our clothes soaked and glued to our bodies–I noticed that, even when he was a year younger than me, his cock seemed much bigger than mine inside his shorts. Just then, I felt self–conscious and worried that something might be wrong with me.
So, the next time I was hiding at a shed with an older friend during a game of hide–and–seek, I just went on and lowered my pants in front of him, asking to
see his.
Innocent enough…
But the boy freaked out, pushing me down and calling me gross and sick. Soon, the entire school had found out.
I had acted on my curiosity. And it had blown up in my face.
I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to know if I was normal. But curiosity, when you grow up in a house like mine, doesn’t get you answers. It gets you punished. Hard.
I got in trouble at school. Then worse trouble at home. My dad made sure of that. And what I remember most isn’t the pain–it’s the humiliation. The look in his eyes–like I’d confirmed every worst fear he had about me. From that day on, he never let me forget it.
The name–calling. The silence. The slaps that didn’t come from discipline but disgust.
So, I overcorrected. Dated girls. Hit the gym. Became a football player. Straight A’s. A walking contradiction. Trying to bury every part of me that might disappoint him.
It didn’t work.
I never measured up. Never would.
When I got this scholarship, I told myself I was finally done chasing his approval. I didn’t need him. I was free.
I remember the day I left–luggage in hand, heart pounding. I told him I was leaving. Told myself I didn’t care what he thought. That I was strong now. That
I didn’t need him.
1/2
Chapter 25
But I still looked back.
Still waited for him to say, “I’m proud of you.” Or even just, “Don’t go, I believe in you,”
But he didn’t say anything.
And now, here I was, craving the very thing I thought I’d left behind–the need to impress, to be seen, to prove I could be everything, if nely someone gave me the right guidance. The right direction. The right purpose.
I didn’t want to be just pushed. I wanted to be encouraged. Not ordered, but led.
I needed structure. Focus. Discipline.
And more than anything, I needed someone who believed in me.
I was packing my stuff, folding the same hoodie I wore for three days straight, and all I could think about was how Aiden had looked at me. Like he saw everything. The worst parts of me. The need. The ache. The chaos. And instead of turning away… he welcomed it.
I zipped the bag and sat on the edge of the bed. I should’ve been exhausted. But my whole body buzzed with a nervous energy I hadn’t felt in years. Like before a game. Like standing under the lights, helmet on, heart racing, and waiting for the whistle.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
