Chapter 159
Noah
A couple of months zipped by and everything turned up to a million.
We went through three straight games–Bayview, Westbridge, Central
City–and smashed them. Smash–win–smash–win–smash–win.
Every game was loud and clean and somehow holy–cleats digging,
shoulder pads slamming, the crowd folding my name into their noise.
And, holy shit, by Thanksgiving my face was on highlight reels and in
sports feeds; people were shouting my name like it meant something
permanent.
The attention was a high that didn’t come down. Cameras leaned in,
scouts asked their polite–but–mean questions, and agents circled with
those shark smiles. Offers started raining–private sponsorships,
combines, promises that smelled like shortcuts. William worked his
angles like he was born to collect favors; Lexie played the supportive
friend with perfect timing. As Aiden said–yeah, they were baiting me.
But the spotlight comes with a price tag. The wins lasted maybe five
minutes in your chest, then it was back to replying to messages-
interviews, boosters wanting pics, agents sliding into DMs. The team
kept giving everything–they were beasts on that turf–but everyone had learned where to look. And that was me… Suddenly every snap
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felt like a live audition.
Aiden watched it all like he was reading a play–calm, sharp, bored when necessary. With him, the noise turned into static I could ignore. I continued hanging back after practice just so I could catch him alone–waiting for the showers to clear or working out at the gym until I was the only one left… Most nights that extra effort ended with my mouth on his cock in the steam, him grunting and sliding his hand into my hair while I sucked until I nearly passed out. My daily
dose of Aiden.
Weekends were always his. Basement fun, private training, club nights, kitchen sex at two a.m.–whatever the place, whatever the kink, it was intense and it was ours. Vanilla mornings–coffee, music, and him being sweet and soft–and then dark, brutal nights that left me raw and somehow full. It was intoxicating and exhausting in the
same breath.
I
And yeah–everything I gave him cost me in small but huge ways. missed lunches that might’ve turned into a real meeting. I turned down a scouting call because Aiden wanted me around. Time is money in this game, and I spent a lot of it on him. It was stupid and
irresistible.
Still–the offers kept coming. By the end of that run there were real people saying real things that could yank me past our small team and into the big leagues. The golden ticket dangled right there–stadiums,
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logos, reps that actually meant something. I could taste it. I could
also taste Aiden on my skin and know what it meant to stay.
So I lived half–in and half–out–stadium lights and secret rooms. The
obsession with him burned like a map on my skin; the exhaustion was
a steady bruise. Every time the future flashed bright I’d remember his
hand on my back and choose him in that one split second my body
answered. Life was a cliff–one step forward into the dream, one step.
back into him. And if I blinked, it might all be gone.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one aware of my situation.
We were in Keon’s room–guitar lesson, more like excuses to hang out
-and Keon nudged me while Miguel tuned. “Dude, what’s up with
you and Lexie? Don’t you like her?” he asked, like it was obvious.
I blinked. “She’s cool,” I said, shrugging. “But I’m trying to focus on
school and ball.” I glanced at Miguel–he already knew the rough
parts of my life, but he was keeping them to himself thankfully.
Miguel gave a tiny shake of his head, the kind that said: not my
business to drag into this.
Keon didn’t let it go. “Man, it makes zero sense. Her family’s huge- powerful as hell–and they’re into you. Think what you could get with that kind of backing.” He leaned forward, earnest. “You could get
signed fast. Way faster than grinding it out.”
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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.
