Chapter 73
Aiden
I didn’t give a damn about frat parties.
Never had. Never would.
But somewhere between watching Noah nearly kill himself in practice
today and remembering the way he’d begged to go, an idea hit me. If
he wanted this so badly, fine. I’d let him have it.
And I’d give him a spoonful of his own medicine while I was at it. Two
could play that game.
Noah Blake was an impossibly gorgeous boy–flawless body, that all-
American face caught somewhere between innocence and pure
mischief. He could drive a man mad with every inappropriate thought
in the book. But I was no stranger to turning heads either.
At thirty–five, I still had the body of an athlete, every muscle honed
and kept in fighting form. Broad shoulders, a chest that filled out any
shirt, and eyes that women had been losing their breath over for
years. I’d been highly desired by both men and women for as long as I
could remember.
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But tonight, I wasn’t here to flirt. For better or worse, my mind was wrapped around that stubborn, maddeningly addictive boy of mine.
It was time he understood–he wasn’t the only one with a choice.
****
I wanted to look tonight like one of them–not the coach, not the authority figure, but just another guy there to relax and have a drink. No whistle, no stopwatch, no clipboard.
Of course, the second I stepped through the door, casual or not, heads turned. The music thumped low in my chest, laughter rolled through the room, and more than a few pairs of eyes found me immediately.
I let my gaze drift over the crowd, forcing a polite smile instead of focusing on what all this beer, cheap liquor, and fried food was going to do to the bodies I’d been working so hard to perfect over the summer. That was my coach brain talking–tonight wasn’t about
being a teacher or a disciplinarian. I shoved the thought away.
Then I saw him.
Noah. As breathtaking as ever.
It was instant–his gaze locking on mine, and I could swear that
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gorgeous, smart–ass mouth of his dropped just a little. It was the first time he’d seen me anywhere that wasn’t a field, a weight room, or my house. Just a young man, dressed to turn heads, looking like he was
ready to have a good time.
I only let my eyes linger a second before I looked away on purpose.
No need to feed his ego right out of the gate.
Miguel was the first to reach me, beer in hand, wearing a smile that
could’ve passed for innocent if it wasn’t so blatantly flirtatious. He
was a good–looking kid–tall, lean, with eyes that said he knew
exactly how to get what he wanted. But I wasn’t interested.
I accepted the beer anyway, giving him a smile that made him flush
from the collar up.
“Thanks.”
“Wanna look around?” he asked, too quickly.
I was more than familiar with the campus and the people in this
room, but I decided to humor him. “Lead the way.”
The tour was little more than weaving through clusters of sweaty
football players, giggling girls, and way too much perfume until we
got to Keon–and by default, Noah.
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“You guys having a good time?” I asked, nodding to both of them.
Before either could answer, a voice called my name from behind. I
turned to see Marcus Kane, a former player of mine and one of Keon’s
close friends, making his way over.
“Coach Mercer! Damn, it’s good to see you,” he said, clapping my
shoulder. “Man, I never thanked you enough for that NFL
recommendation. I’ve been killing it since I left college last year.”
“Glad to hear it,” I said, meaning it.
“Come on, I gotta introduce you to a couple of the new guys I’ve been
working with.”
I let him pull me away, exchanging a quick nod toward a very jealous-
looking Noah before the crowd swallowed me.
