Chapter 72
Noah
I hadn’t gotten a yes yet.
Which was insane, because I was twenty–one years old, in college, and
somehow less free than when I was living under my parents‘ roof.
Crazy part? I was choosing this.
The thought made me stop mid–stretch during warm–ups, a smirk
tugging at my mouth. I could walk off this field right now. Hell, I
could walk into that party tonight without so much as a text, and
there was nothing Aiden could actually do about it–legally, anyway.
But then… the image in my head shifted. Not to the party, not to the
beer or the music, but to his face. The way his approval felt like
oxygen. The way “good boy” hit harder than any cheer from the
stands. And just like that, my little flare of rebellion fizzled into
something else entirely.
I was free, sure, but my freedom consisted of being free to choose life
with or without Aiden away from the field. And as much as I loved
having friends, a social life, and getting laid, from the second Aiden
entered my life as Mr. A, I had been obsessed with him. I saw him
everywhere–quite literally–and thought about him every moment I
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wasn’t with him.
I was so damn screwed.
Which is how I ended up putting on the single most perfect practice
performance of my life.
Flawless passes. Tight footwork. Not a second of hesitation in the
drills. Every play–run like I was trying to win the Heisman that
afternoon. I even made sure to nod sharply when he barked an order,
throwing in a crisp, “Yes, Sir,” loud enough for him to hear.
When I glanced toward him after a particularly clean throw, he was
watching me with that unreadable, razor–edged calm. The kind that
made me feel like he could see exactly what I was doing and was just
waiting to see how far I’d take it.
“Good work, Blake,” he said once as I jogged past him. His tone was
clipped, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes–something
that told me my bribe campaign wasn’t going unnoticed.
By the end of practice, I was practically vibrating with the effort to be
perfect. I lingered, waiting for everyone else to clear out, keeping my
helmet tucked under one arm like I had all the time in the world.
Miguel smirked as he walked by. “Don’t be late, golden boy. Party
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starts at nine.”
Keon slapped my shoulder pads on his way out. “Seriously, man.
You’re coming, right?”
“I’ll be there,” I said, trying to sound casual, even though I was still
technically under lock and key without the damn key.
Miguel turned back with a grin. “Hey, maybe Coach should come.
Loosen up, have a beer.”
I choked out a laugh. “Yeah, right.”
He shrugged. “Could be fun. Bet he’s even hotter when he loosens
up.”
“I already invited him,” Keon said casually, like it was no big deal.
My heart skipped a beat. “You did what?”
“I told him to come by for a beer. It’s the weekend anyway, and I had
over a dozen requests-”
“Requests? From who?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
They both gave me matching are you serious? looks.
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“C’mon, dude, you didn’t notice? Half the cheerleading squad has a
crush on our coach,” Keon said with a laugh.
“Not to mention a few of the players,” Miguel added with a wicked
smirk, clearly including himself in that number.
My jaw tightened.
While I wasn’t exactly worried about the girls–at least, not in the
same way–there was no universe in which I was going to let any guy.
lay eyes on Aiden the way I did. Let alone a damn finger.
I watched them go, my mind twisting between reckless temptation
and the slow burn of my own stubbornness. By the time I found
myself alone in my room, I’d already decided I wasn’t going. Screw
the party. If staying home with Aiden meant keeping him away from
every wandering eye and temptation, then fine–I’d take the hit.
I grabbed my stuff for the weekend, slinging my bag over my shoulder
and heading toward the lot where my bike was chained. That’s when
Aiden stepped into my path, looking infuriatingly composed after two
hours in the Texas heat.
“No need to ride over to my place tonight,” he said, voice smooth as
glass.
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I frowned. “What?”
“You’ve got permission to go to the party,” he continued. “Since you
wanted it so badly. I might be stopping by myself.”
My stomach dropped. Permission. He made it sound like he was
granting me some priceless gift, when in reality it felt like he’d just
chosen a room full of drunk idiots over me. And if he was choosing
the party, well… so was I.
I forced a grin. “Cool. I’ll see you there then.”
“Enjoy yourself, Blake,” he said with a look that I couldn’t quite read
-half challenge, half warning.
4
I didn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what it meant. I just
turned on my heel and walked away, already running through what I
was going to wear. If Aiden Mercer wanted to show up at that party,
he’d find me having the kind of fun that didn’t involve sitting at
home waiting for him.
The frat house was already buzzing by the time I walked in, music
thumping so hard the floor practically vibrated under my sneakers,
I’d gone with dark jeans, a fitted black Henley that clung just enough
to my chest and shoulders to show off the hours I’d been putting in-
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not just on the field, but under Aiden’s unrelenting, military–level
training. My hair was still sun–bleached from summer practices, skin
bronzed from the Texas sun, and judging by the way a few heads
turned, it was doing me favors.
“Blake! There he is!” Miguel’s voice cut through the noise as he
shoved a red cup in my hand before I could even close the door.
Keon grinned from across the room. “Golden boy finally shows.”
“Happy you made it, man,” another teammate clapped me on the
back. “Killer practice today.”
I tossed them a grin, soaking it in. The attention, the easy energy–it
felt… good. Familiar. Like the old days when I was the star, before
everything in my life revolved around rules and schedules and yes,
Sir.
A few girls glanced my way, eyes sweeping me up and down before
exchanging whispers. I’d always been popular with girls–being
quarterback pretty much came with that–but lately, it was different.
If I’d been in great shape under my dad’s obsessive routine, now I was
sharper. Leaner. Stronger. Aiden had polished me into something that
got noticed without me even trying.
And I knew they were noticing.
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I was halfway through my beer when the front door swung open… and
that was the end of my ten seconds of glory.
There he was–Aiden–casual jeans hugging his hips, a dark T–shirt
stretching over his chest, sleeves rolled to show off his forearms.
Every head turned, but his eyes locked on me… before they looked
away.
The girls weren’t the only ones staring.
And suddenly, the night didn’t feel like fun anymore.
