Aiden
My mouth opened. Nothing came out. For once in my life, I didn’t have a single word ready.
The hall went quiet for a beat as a couple of girls glanced over- lingered–and I felt the ground shift under me. Their eyes dragged
down his chest–those goddamn sexy nipple rings, across the lines of
his abs, and my blood spiked so fast it made me dizzy.
Like I had the right. Like I had the fucking right to care.
One of them actually had the nerve to saunter up, leaning into him with a giggle, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered something that had my hands curling into fists before I even realized it. My jaw locked tight. Who the hell was she? Did he call her here? Was he
lining up replacements already–girls to wipe me out of his system?
The thought tore through me, sharp and ugly, and for a second I wanted to put my fist through the wall behind her head.
But Noah shifted, patient, calm. He nudged her gently away, voice low. “Sorry, babe. Think I’ve got a stomach bug. Probably shouldn’t
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get close to anyone.”
She pouted, bottom lip caught between her teeth. He barely gave her
a glance as he tipped his chin toward me instead. “Coach came to
check on me.”
The casual weight of it hit me square in the chest, knocking loose
every excuse I’d rehearsed.
“I brought back your bike,” I managed, my voice rougher than it should’ve been. “It’s fixed now.”
“Awesome.” He nodded like this was just another normal Saturday, no firestorm under the surface, no contract torn to pieces between us. “Let me get dressed. I’ll be right out.”
Before I could answer, he ducked inside, the door shutting in our
faces.
The girl lingered for a beat, tossing her hair, shooting me a look that dared me to explain myself. I didn’t. Eventually, she rolled her eyes and wandered off with her friends, leaving me alone with the pounding bass and my own spiraling thoughts.
I should’ve left. I told myself to leave. My feet wouldn’t move.
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The latch clicked, the door cracked open again, just enough for a
sliver of his face to appear. His eyes swept the hall, quick and
cautious, before locking on me.
And then, in one sharp motion, his hand shot out, gripping my wrist.
Before I could breathe, he yanked me inside and slammed the door
shut behind us.
The air in the room felt too tight, too warm, like it belonged to
someone else, and I had no business breathing it. My eyes darted
anywhere but him at first–anywhere to ground myself. The place was
neater than I expected for a dorm. Laptop open on the desk, a couple
of books stacked beside it. Poetry, of all things. Of course. Because just when I thought I had Noah Blake figured out, he had to throw in
another curveball.
A few empty cups of instant noodles sagged in the trash, the kind of
garbage that probably fueled him when I wasn’t there to take care of
him. No proper fuel, no discipline off the field–Christ, I should’ve
been tearing into him for that, but then I reminded myself this was
all my fault. He had counted on me, and I had let him down.
My gaze landed back on him.
Still barefoot. Still only a towel around his waist. The fabric clung to
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Chapter 93
him like it was fighting a losing battle against gravity. His chest rose and fell too quickly, nipples pierced and gleaming under the dim light, droplets tracing paths down tanned skin and over the carved
lines of muscle I shouldn’t have been staring at. His hair was damp,
blond strands plastered to his forehead, sliding against the line of his
neck. He looked too young, too beautiful, too goddamn dangerous..
And then his eyes met mine.
Not boyish. Not soft. They burned. Accusing. Hungry. Hurt. And the
weight of it broke something in me–I had to look down to pull air
into lungs that didn’t want to work.
し
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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.
