Chapter 108
Aiden
I wasn’t at home.
I should’ve been. That was the plan. But I was so fucking dependent
on this kid that I couldn’t stand being at my place without him in it.
If Noah ever decided to leave me, I was gonna have to look for a new
place…
So, instead of waiting for him in the silence of my own house, I found
myself at a corner table of a pub I’d been coming to for years, nursing a drink I wasn’t even tasting, watching the bubbles climb the glass
while my thoughts circled tighter and tighter.
Things had been moving too fast, too intense, to the point of
obsession and daily risks. It was madness. And yet…
I couldn’t stop–I was consumed by him.
He’d played so fucking well today. His speed had sharpened, his cuts
crisp, his reads clean. His release on the quick slant was flawless, his dropbacks smooth, and the way he connected with Keon on the deep
post was textbook. He was faster, sharper, more focused than I’d ever
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seen him. One of the best players I’d ever trained–or played with.
He had a future. A bright one.
And it was my job to make sure nothing–no one–dimmed that.
That was why I was here. Not because I wanted distance from him,
but because I needed to clear my head long enough to plan. To
strategize. I couldn’t just think as his Master. I had to think as his
coach. As the man responsible for shaping the next few years of his
life.
I pulled out my tablet and opened the contact lists I’d been updating
for months. Sponsors, local press, alumni, donors. Names that
mattered. I sent the first batch of invitations–highlighting the team,
yes, but planting the seed of something more. Our first game. Our
rising star. Hints dropped like bread crumbs about the quarterback
with the arm, the vision, the presence.
It was all about Noah.
He didn’t even know it yet, but the world was about to.
Because if it came down to it, I’d rather sacrifice myself than let him
waste his potential. If that meant stepping back, if that meant
watching him shine from the sidelines of his life instead of holding
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him too tight in mine, I’d do it. I had to.
At least, that was what I told myself.
and I was toying with the idea of messaging him, assessing the pros
cons of appearing overly controlling, when my phone buzzed across the table, pulling me out of sponsor lists and polished wording. His
name lit up the screen.
Where are you?
A smile tugged at my mouth despite myself. I typed back, slow.
You keeping tabs on me, boy? Shouldn’t it be the other way
around?
The reply came fast.
Well… aren’t you?
I let the words sit there a moment, staring at the glow of the screen.
Then I answered.
Should I? Are you doing anything you shouldn’t?
There was a long pause. I could almost see him chewing his lip,
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debating, before the next messages came through rapid–fire.
According to my friends and this girl–Cindy–clinging to me like a baby
monkey, I am.
They think I should come up with hot games for the party (which I’ve
been).
Drinking (which I’m pretending to do).
And going home with this girl, who everyone thinks I slept with-
including her apparently, who was drunk enough Saturday to think she
did.
(But I refuse to do).
My jaw clenched. Heat shot through me, sharp and immediate..Cindy.
His so–called cover, I bet. The idea of her hands on him, of her even
thinking she had him–it made my blood boil,
Another ping.
I’m bored. I wanna get out of here.
My thumb hovered, pulse pounding. He was unraveling. Confessing. Begging me to anchor him.
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I typed back one line.
Meet me at Spencer’s.
And hit send.
****
Spencer’s was one of the few places I trusted for myself–clean lines,
high quality, never gaudy. I’d all but sprinted here, though I forced
myself to slow before stepping through the doors so I wouldn’t look
too eager.
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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.
