Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 224

Chapter 224

Noah

For two long days, I had been trying to find a moment alone with Aiden. But between the relentless press conferences, nonstop interviews, and team meetings, he had made it nearly impossible to catch him by himself. Every attempt felt like hitting a brick wall.

Now, standing outside his hotel room door, my heart pounded so fiercely I was sure everyone in the hallway could hear it. I raised my hand and knocked once, then waited. Silence. Maybe I’d imagined the faint sound of the door handle moving earlier.

Perhaps he was asleep. Or maybe he was drunk—though that was unlike him. Still, I remembered seeing him sip whiskey on the flight here, and maybe that was his new habit. God, why did I sound like a jealous husband? Worse, like William Hart himself.

Suddenly, a faint noise scraped behind the door—the soft click of a peephole cover sliding open. I was certain of it. He was checking to see who was there. I should have stepped back, but it was too late.

I forced a breath out, trying to sound confident when I wasn’t. “You really gonna make me cause a scene just to get you to open this damn door?”

A muffled thud answered me, then silence. Just as I was about to knock again, the door finally creaked open.

There he stood. His damp hair pushed back, a towel hanging low on his hips, and just a hint of scruff darkening his jawline—enough to make him look older, rougher, and irresistibly sexy. My stomach twisted painfully. He looked drained, but still breathtaking.

He said nothing, simply watching me, waiting.

“I need to talk to you,” I said, my voice tighter than I intended. “Privately.”

He ran a hand through his wet hair. “I just got out of the shower. Let me grab a shirt—we can talk while I get some ice.”

Classic avoidance. Typical Aiden Mercer. Pretend nothing ever happened between us. Pretend the past six months of crossing every boundary didn’t exist.

I stayed rooted where I was. “It’s about William,” I said softly.

That stopped him cold. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then he glanced both ways down the hallway, jaw clenched, and stepped aside.

“Come in,” he finally said.

He sighed deeply. “Noah.”

I met his eyes deliberately. “Aiden.”

As always, saying his name out loud sparked something in his expression. It used to be amusement; now it felt like a warning. That sharp, restrained look of his still sent an electric jolt through me that I couldn’t hide.

His gaze dropped, catching the subtle shift in my posture, then he looked away quickly, clearing his throat. “I never got the chance to congratulate you.”

The words hit me harder than I expected, colder than sarcasm.

I exhaled slowly. “That’s why I came here. You need to understand—it’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” he said, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Because it looks pretty damn official to me.”