Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 21

Chapter 21

His fingers stirred slowly, deliberately. One by one, he slid the sleeves down his arms, then tugged the hoodie off his head. Beneath it, the T-shirt clung to his frame, damp—whether from nerves or sweat, I couldn’t tell. But the rosy flush coloring his cheeks revealed just how vulnerable he felt in that moment.

I circled around to face him once more. His jaw was clenched tight, muscles taut with tension. Yet his eyes—those searching eyes—were looking for something: approval, reassurance, something solid to grasp onto amidst the uncertainty.

“Good boy,” I murmured, my voice low and measured as I stepped in behind him, close enough that my chest nearly brushed against his back.

He froze instantly. Already wound tight, his breath uneven, fingers curled into fists resting on his thighs. But nerves alone wouldn’t suffice. What I needed was more—awareness, surrender, a hunger that ran deeper than fear.

So I closed the distance.

Even closer.

I watched his eyes widen, pupils darkening as they swallowed the color from his irises. His bravado peeled away slowly, layer by layer, as I moved into his personal space—close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from my skin, yet never quite touching.

My fingers rose gradually, tracing the air just beside his jawline—so near that if he leaned forward even a fraction, our skin would meet.

My lips hovered near his, so close I could taste the warmth and sweetness of his breath. He trembled beneath my gaze.

His lips parted slightly, breath catching in his throat.

And then, those beautiful eyes half-lidded, his mouth softening, his body tilting forward just a little… as if he expected it.

He thought I was going to kiss him. He wanted it.

Good.

I leaned in just enough to feel his exhale brush against my skin—and then, smoothly and without haste, I stepped back, letting the tension snap taut like a frayed wire.

He blinked, confusion and desperation mingling in his expression.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he muttered, voice rough with frustration and longing, lips still parted.

I didn’t deny it. Instead, I tapped his thigh once—a gentle, deliberate reminder.

“Sir,” I said softly.

He took a moment to absorb my words. Then, without protest or sass, he rose—slowly, deliberately.

Fifteen minutes later, I entered the gym. There he was—hoodie discarded, skin glistening with sweat, muscles taut and flexing with each precise movement.

Focused. Determined. Trying desperately to convince himself this was just another morning.

But it wasn’t.

He didn’t look my way, yet his body knew. The subtle shift in the air, the weight of my gaze pressing down on him.

This was the beginning of something dangerous—two worlds hurtling toward collision: Coach and Dominant. Rookie and submissive.

Tomorrow, when we returned to campus, we’d have to figure out how to live these two lives without tearing each other apart. But for now…

I watched the beads of sweat trace down his back and allowed myself to imagine what it would feel like to taste him. To break him in all the secret ways he craved. And if any doubts lingered inside him…

Tonight, I would make sure they vanished completely.