Chapter 109
The first floor gleamed with rows of fashion and accessories: polished
leather shoes lined up like soldiers, silk ties draped in neat color
stories, cufflinks sparkling under glass, and a small section devoted
to “toys” for men who thought status came in watches and fountain
pens. I stopped near the perfume counter at the entrance, pretending
to study a few of the brands, while my eyes flicked to the door every
time it opened.
Then he walked in.
Looking around like he’d stepped onto another planet, lips pursed in
a low whistle. His T–shirt and worn jeans made him stick out like a
sore thumb among marble floors and tailored mannequins, and I felt
my mouth twitch at the sight. He was both lost and magnetic–every
bit mine, even here.
“Sir,” he breathed when he found me, low, cautious. His eyes darted to
the staff hovering nearby.
“Coach,” I corrected him back, though my gaze lingered longer than it
should have. His blush spread across his face, and I drank it in before
turning away.
“Come.” I led him up the staircase to the second floor, where
1/4
Chapter 109
Spencer’s truly shined. Racks of fine suits stood in ordered rows,
colors muted and rich–charcoal, navy, black, with the occasional
daring cut in midnight blue or hunter green. This was where I’d
bought my own. And from the moment the donor’s dinner had been
set, I’d known Noah would need one.
We reached the second floor, the world of tailored precision. Rows of
fine suits stretched in perfect order–navy, charcoal, black, and the
occasional bold hunter green or midnight blue. Noah slowed, eyes
going wide.
“Shopping, Coach?” he said, a whistle slipping out before he could
stop it. “Holy shit. You going to a ball with the king or something?”
I glanced at him, expression calm. “You are. With the kings and
queens of Texas who invest in you
you and
your team.‘
His head snapped toward me, eyes wide. “Wait–me?”
“Yes, you,” I said. “The donor’s dinner. Every player represents the
program, the school, and me. You’ll stand in front of alumni,
sponsors, scouts. You’ll look the part. You’ll look like you belong.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, uneasy. “I just–I can’t afford any of
this. I was thinking of borrowing one or maybe hitting a secondhand
shop, to be honest.”
2/4
Chapter 109
I stopped, made sure he was looking at me. “This isn’t charity, Noah.
And it isn’t optional. You’re not buying a suit for yourself–you’re
wearing one because the program demands it. Every man who puts on
this jersey is an ambassador. You’re no different. At these events,
every player represents the team–and me. It’s our responsibility to
make sure you look the part. You’ll stand shoulder to shoulder with
alumni, donors, and scouts, looking your best, because you deserve to
be taken seriously.”
He shifted, embarrassed but listening, the fight softening in his eyes.
“Do you understand?” I asked.
After a moment, he nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
He tried on the first suit–navy, slim cut. The moment he stepped out,
something caught in my chest. The boy who always looked scrappy, wild curls and raw edges, suddenly looked… elevated. Dignified. Like
he belonged to a different world.
He tugged at the collar, cheeks red. “Jesus. I look like some kind of
aristocrat.”
I smirked. “You look like someone who’s about to own a room.”
The sales clerk brought ties, shirts, shoes. Noah fumbled with the
3/4
Chapter 109
options, holding a tie up to his neck and making a face, then trading
it for another. His awkwardness made me want to laugh, but also-
God–it was beautiful. The excitement just under the embarrassment,
the way his eyes flicked to me for approval every time.
When he stepped out in the full suit, polished shoes, matching tie,
crisp shirt, I let my gaze drag over him, slow and unhidden.
“Let’s go home.”
Comments
Write Comments
18
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.
