Chapter 10
Aiden
Things had been… tense since the shower.
Which wasn’t exactly surprising. Getting caught watching your coach jerk off tends to throw off team dynamics. Who knew?
To his credit, Noah hadn’t said a word about it. Not a whisper. Not a question. Not even one of his usual smart–ass comments. Just this tight, silent obedience that said, I’m pretending this never happened, louder than any conversation ever could..
He showed up early for every workout. Completed every task. Pushed himself harder than I asked–maybe trying to prove something. Maybe trying to bury the memory of what he saw. Or maybe just trying to distract himself from the fact that he liked it.
And I?
Well.
I might’ve enjoyed it just a bit too much.
The silence. The tension. The quiet way he kept looking anywhere but at me. How he’d clench his jaw when I gave him one more thing to do. How he’d wait -every damn time–for praise I refused to give.
So I pushed.
Just a little.
I assigned a few extra drills. Gave him one or two completely unreasonable tasks–just to see how far he’d go.
Every time, he did it.
Without question.
Without complaint.
And still–I didn’t give him the one thing he was starting to crave.
“Noah,” I said, folding my arms as he approached with a clipboard. “This is your version of neat?”
He straightened. “It’s highlighted, annotated, and color–coded by topic, sir.”
I flipped through the pages. “You used neon orange.”
He blinked. “It was all the hotel had.”
I gave him a slow, unimpressed look. “Is that supposed to be my problem?”
He opened his mouth, then shut it again. I caught the flicker of annoyance in his eyes–the one he tried so hard to hide these days.
I handed the clipboard back. “Redo it with a readable color. You have ten minutes.”
1:25 pm
Chapter 10
“To redo twenty pages?”
M
I raised an eyebrow, chuckling on the inside.
He clenched his jaw. “Yes, Sir.”
Good boy.
Still didn’t say it.
By the time he brought it back, chest heaving slightly from jogging to the printer and back, I barely glanced at it.
“Better,” I muttered. Then, louder: “Come on. Rehab consult starts in three.”
He followed. Silently. Always silently now.
Part of me knew I should break it.
Say something. Ease the tension. Acknowledge what had happened.
But another part?
The darker part?
Wanted to keep pulling that tension tighter. To see how far it could stretch before something snapped.
Because God help me-
I kinda missed the fire, the smart–ass remarks, and the defiance.
Call me a masochist, but I craved it.
And, for both our sakes, I hoped he’d be the one to break first.
And toward the end of the fourth day, he did.
Unfortunately, not in the way I was hoping for.
It started at dinner.
Another perfect, protein–rich plate in front of him. Grilled chicken, steamed vegetables, and quinoa–like a punishment. Planned by me, approved by the team nutritionist, and followed down to the last damn vitamin.
He picked at it in silence. Didn’t even pretend this time.
Then he stood.
Didn’t ask. Didn’t make a show of it. Just left the plate half–eaten and walked out of the dining hall.
I watched him go.
2/5
Chapter 10
Didn’t say a word.
But something inside me coiled tight.
I found him twenty minutes later.
The hotel bar was dim, moody lighting glowing off rows of glass bottles and polished wood. A few tourists scattered at tables, sipping overpriced cocktails and pretending Switzerland wasn’t cold as hell.
And there he was.
Noah.
Perched on a stool like he owned the place, leaning in toward some blonde in a short black dress. She was laughing–tilting her head, tacking her hair behind her ear. The way girls did when they wanted to be kissed.
He was doing the smile.
The one with just enough mischief to melt steel.
The one I hated seeing aimed at anyone but me.
He slid a glass her way. Pink wine, from the look of it.
My blood boiled.
I stood at the edge of the bar, mostly out of sight, rage simmering beneath protocols I’d set.
But the truth?
The truth was uglier.
I hated the way she was looking at him.
I hated that he was letting her.
my skin. I told myself it was about the rules. The discipline. The strict recovery
And I fucking hated that he insisted on calling himself straight when I knew he wanted me more than she wanted any girl in this room.
He knew I was watching.
Of course he did.
This was rebellion. Calculated and deliberate. He wanted me to see. Wanted to punish me for ignoring him, for withholding, for making him beg with his eyes and get nothing in return.
I clenched my jaw.
She leaned closer, and his hand brushed her waist.
3/5
4:23 pm
Chapter 10
I moved.
M
I waited until she turned toward the bar, distracted, then approached from the side–close enough for him to hear but hidden from her view.
I didn’t touch him. Didn’t raise my voice. Just leaned in, lips near his ear.
“Careful, boy,” I murmured, voice low and cold. “Better think twice about where you spend your energy. And who you waste it on.”
His body went still.
But only for a second.
Then he slowly turned his head, met my eyes–and smirked.
Defiant. Beautiful. Glowing with heat.
And just like that, I felt it again.
Not just the fury.
Not just the need to control him.
But the deep, maddening desire to own him.
Completely oblivious to our subtle interactions, the girl turned back to him, drink in hand, and he didn’t miss a beat.
Noah took the glass, clinked it lightly against hers, and lifted
it
to his lips with a smile that screamed fuck you.
Then–like he could feel the fire behind my eyes–he leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was performance.
A deliberate show, sloppy and fast, like he was trying to prove something to himself.
But I saw it.
The tightness in his shoulders.
The stiffness in his jaw.
The way his hand barely moved on her waist, like he was holding a mannequin.
And then–he glanced at me.
Just for a second. Just long enough.
And fuck, I knew.
He felt nothing.
4/5
4:23 pm P P P м
Chapter 10
Not like he did with me. Not like when I told him to hold a plank until his body shook. Not like when I raised an eyebrow and his whole face flushed red Not like the way his breath caught when I stepped too close and said good.
I’d seen more arousal from him when I corrected his footwork.
This wasn’t rebellion.
It was desperation.
He broke the kiss, said something to her I couldn’t hear, and she laughed again–clueless, wide–eyed, and ready to follow.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and headed for the elevators, swagger in every step like this was some kind of victory.
But I saw the truth.
I always saw him.
And he was running straight into the dark, and two steps behind–of course–I followed.
Comments
RVisitor
im really enjoying the chapters so far!
7 days ago
37
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.
