Aiden
From the first set, I knew he was in pain. His movements were tight. Calculated. A little too stiff around the hips, the thighs. Bruites visible, but I knew where they were. Because I’d put them there.
He never hesitated. Not once. But his body did. A silent flinch here. A subtle twitch there. He tried to hide it from me. He should’ve known better.
I called for the fourth set, even though I knew his legs were trembling. Called for the fifth because I needed to see if his mind would break before his body did. It didn’t. Not yet. He kept going. Kept obeying. Kept earning the stare of every other man in that gym–half of them confused, the other half watching like they were waiting for him to snap. And still… he didn’t.
By the sixth set, he was shaking badly. Sweat poured down his temples. His jaw clenched so tight I thought he might crack a molar. His arms trembled around the bar, and his breathing had turned into a low, rasping grunt with every rep. I crouched beside him–right there on the floor, eye–level, where his world had narrowed to two burning limbs and the weight I’d placed on his back.
I kept my voice soft. Just for him. “If you want to quit, this is your chance.” My eyes locked on his. “What’s it gonna be, Noah?”
He was gasping. On the verge of collapsing. His knees had started to bend. His grip was slipping. His eyes burned–not from exhaustion, but emotion. His voice cracked. But he didn’t fall.
“I trust your training, Sir. I’m not quitting.”
God help me. Every part of me wanted to pull him into my arms right then and call the whole thing off. But I couldn’t. Because he needed
this. Because he asked for this.
“Give me five more, then” I said.
But in my mind, I was already tracking every micro–movement. The bar. His footing. The angle of his spine. One wrong move, and I’d be
under it before he could blink. I was watching him like a hawk.
So when I heard Keon’s voice cut through the gym–sharp and shaking with tension–it hit harder than it should have.
“He can’t, Sir. This isn’t safe.”
I turned my head slowly. Keon stood a few feet away, fists clenched, eyes wide with something that looked like panic–and something else
I didn’t like.
Possessiveness.
I rose to my full height. “You think I don’t know my player’s limits?” I asked, voice calm, razor–thin.
Keon didn’t back down. I almost admired that.
1/4
Chapter 38
Almost.
“Very well,” I said, stepping aside. “How about you take his place, then. From the start.”
Keon stepped forward like a soldier.
His expression was one of determination–team loyalty, maybe even a flicker of pride–coated by a thin, unmistakable layer of fear. I would’ve reveled in it under normal circumstances. I liked fear. I respected it, but I wasn’t watching him.
I was watching Noah.
Noah, still bent at the waist, trembling, lips parted as he tried to catch his breath.
He hadn’t dropped the bar. Not once. Not even now, with his body screaming and half the gym watching.
And when his eyes met mine, I didn’t see fear–I saw desperation.
Not the kind that begged for mercy.
The kind that begged not to be replaced.
Relief flashed in his eyes when Keon stepped forward, but it was swallowed immediately by something darker. Something sharp. Pride.
Shame. Fear that he wouldn’t finish the task–that he wouldn’t prove himself worthy of the choice he’d made.
I wanted to take him in my arms.
I wanted to kiss those trembling lips I could still taste from the night before.
I wanted to tell him that he’d already proven everything to me, because he had.
He didn’t need to finish the set. I didn’t care if he dropped the bar and collapsed in my arms–I would’ve caught him. He was already a winner in my eyes. Already mine. Just for saying those words–I trust your training, Sir.
But before I could speak, he did.
“No, Sir,” he rasped, shaking his head with what little strength he had left. “Please. I can do this. I need no one else to take over.”
That was when I saw it.
The confusion rolling through the room. The discomfort. The sideways glances. The tension that had stopped being about drills or weights and started to become something else–something no one could name, but everyone could feel.
I couldn’t allow it to grow, and he’d already done enough.
I stepped forward, met his eyes, and said simply, “No need. You’ve proven yourself.”
2/4
Chapter 38
I placed my hands on the bar and helped guide it gently from his grip, watching the pain and gratitude flicker across his face.
“Class is dismissed,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Except for you.”
I looked at Keon and nodded toward the platform,
Noah flinched–his face pale with exhaustion, confusion, and something else I didn’t quite recognize. Hurt, maybe. Possessiveness. A question he didn’t know how to ask.
But I didn’t have time to answer it.
63
As much as I wanted to walk out with him, take him home, kiss the frustration from his lips, and worship every bruise I’d placed on his skin, I had a job to do.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t just his Master; I was also their coach, and Keon needed to trust me on the field–just as much as Noah needed to trust me behind closed doors.
“Up,” I said.
Keon moved to the bar, jaw tight.
“Same set. Clean and press. You have five minutes to prove you weren’t just talking.”
He hesitated, but he did it. He lifted. Repeated. Struggled. Swore under his breath but never gave up. Not once.
Good.
When the five minutes passed, I gave him one last set–twenty deadlifts with perfect form, no rests between. He didn’t complain. He
didn’t collapse.
When it was done, I looked at him and said only, “Next time, don’t interrupt your coach mid–training. You think he can’t finish? Help him
after. Not in front of everyone.”
Keon nodded, breathing hard. “Yes, Sir.”
I dismissed him with a flick of my hand.
As he walked out of the gym, I turned my attention back to the only thing I truly cared about—
Noah.
(
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.
