Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Noah

Just when I believed I’d hit a wall I couldn’t break through after what felt like Alden’s harshness, he surprised me in a way I never thought possible from a man like him.

He chose to explain himself.

Not with excuses or some condescending lecture, but with a calm, unwavering clarity. He shared why he’d pushed me so relentlessly, why he’d confronted me so directly, and why the consequences mattered so much. Rather than making him seem weak or uncertain, it only deepened my trust in him.

It sparked a respect in me I didn’t even realize I was capable of feeling.

That kind of openness? That unwavering faith in me?

It shook me to my core. Almost made me dizzy with a strange, thrilling hope.

He believed in me enough to challenge me, to help me grow into something greater. For the first time in what felt like forever, I could believe that someone truly saw my potential—and wasn’t afraid to push me to reach it.

So when he said, “Go shower, meet me by the parking lot when you’re done,” a flutter of something unexpected stirred in my stomach.

A foolish little hope ignited.

Daydreams I hadn’t even realized I’d been clinging to rushed forward—imagining a shared shower, skin slick with water, a gentle kiss pressed to my throat beneath the spray. A quiet reward for enduring everything he’d thrown at me and standing firm.

But instead, he sent me off—alone.

By the time I reached the locker room, it was deserted, the quiet echoing off the tiled walls. I made sure to leave the door slightly ajar and chose the first stall near the entrance, just in case…

Just in case he changed his mind. Just in case he showed up. Just in case those fantasies were more than just some fractured daydream from a boy too lost in his own head.

But the door never swung open.

The warm water traced slow paths down my shoulders, the silence around me thick and unyielding.

He never came.

What unsettled me wasn’t that he didn’t show—it was that I wanted him to.

That I’d stood there in the steam, straining to hear footsteps that never arrived, my heart pounding like I was about to be caught in some secret.

The drive was quiet for a long stretch, but not in an uncomfortable way. His hand rested casually on the gearshift, close enough to brush my leg every time we hit a bump, and my mind was already spinning again.

“Where are we headed?” I finally whispered.

He glanced at me briefly, then back to the road. “My house.”

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a mix of fear and excitement swirling inside me. “I thought you’d want me away from your private life.”

“You are my private life now, Noah,” he said simply. “You’ll learn that soon enough.”

God, I wanted to believe that.

We drove for nearly twenty minutes, leaving town behind, the roads narrowing and the trees thickening around us—secluded and quiet, with nothing but open fields and dense woods stretching out on either side.

And then I saw it.

A broad, low house with dark stone walls and enormous windows. A tall gate at the end of a gravel driveway. No neighbors. No noise. Just space, silence, and an undeniable sense of power.