Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Aiden

The moment I saw those words, my heart pounded fiercely in my chest.

It was him.

Curious X.

The audacious, defiant sub who had dared to challenge me just days ago—the one whose voice had been tangled with both rebellion and longing—was none other than Noah Blake. My new player. The rookie quarterback carrying a chip on his shoulder, every muscle taut with tension.

I should have shut it down immediately. That would have been the sensible, ethical, professional choice. But I’d never pretended to be a good man.

When he confided in me about his miserable day—a day I had orchestrated from start to finish—my stomach twisted with guilt… then clenched tighter with something far more potent.

Pride.

A possessive, electric kind of pride.

Yes, that felt right… My body responded instinctively.

He had unraveled exactly as I wanted. And then, without hesitation, he came straight to me.

But his next message struck a different chord.

It was honest. Raw.

And I wasn’t prepared for the quiet ache woven through his words. Something inside me shifted, flipping a switch into protective mode.

ME:

You’re not meant to be normal.

That’s not how your body was built.

You’re special—stronger than you realize.

You were made for tension. For resistance.

For discipline.

And deep down, you know it.

I watched the typing bubble flicker.

Curious X:

I don’t know any of that.

How could I?

ME:

I told you what I wanted from the beginning, and you came back for more.

This time, without a mask.

You showed me the real you.

I’m a stranger—but somehow, you’re letting me in.

Curious X:

Pathetic, right?

ME:

No. Brave.

Bold.

When you pretended to be someone else, I was intrigued.

Now that I see more?

I’m invested.

There was a pause. A long one.

I leaned back in my hotel chair, phone in hand, imagining him just down the hall—probably pacing, biting his lip, struggling to quiet the storm in his chest.

And I was the cause of it.

Curious X:

I thought about you today.

Before I even realized it, I was hearing your voice in my mind.

Like it was the only thing keeping me from breaking.

ME:

And now?

Curious X:

I’m still breaking.

Just quieter about it.

ME:

That’s not weakness.

That’s pressure with no release.

And that’s why you need rules.

Someone to make sure you stick to them.

No more spiraling.

No more punishing yourself for needing control.

I could almost feel his breath hitch.

Curious X:

I’ve never told anyone this much.

Not even friends.

No one ever asked.

Why did you?

ME:

Because you needed me to.

You wanted me to know.

So I can take over.

And I will…

If you let me.

His next message took a moment to arrive. But I waited patiently, sensing this was a turning point.

Curious X:

I want to.

I want to let you.

And I know this sounds messed up, but…

I want to meet.

In person.

“I wasn’t on my phone… I was jet-lagged.”

I closed the distance, close enough to catch the faint scent of citrus from his morning shower. My voice dropped to a whisper.

“Good boys don’t lie.”

His breath caught. He looked up at me, cheeks flushed, torn between snapping back and surrendering to this moment.

I didn’t have to touch him. The tension stretched taut between us, humming with electricity.

“You’re mine to train on the field, Blake. Don’t make me train you out of it too.”

Then I turned and walked away—slow, deliberate steps—leaving him standing there, heat of shame and something else crawling beneath his skin.

He stayed away the rest of the afternoon, the exact opposite of what my body craved. Somehow, I was becoming addicted to his tension, the subtle shifts in his posture when I pushed his buttons. So, I decided to have a little fun.

After dinner, I summoned him into the lounge suite attached to my room—strictly business, of course. He showed up in joggers and a hoodie, damp curls still clinging to his forehead from the shower, looking like a picture of rebellion disguised as innocence—and, damn, the most infuriatingly tempting sight I’d ever seen. The kind of temptation that made me want to break him, but in the best way possible.

I motioned toward the chair across from me.

“Sit.”

He lowered himself slowly, arms crossed, jaw tight.

Good.

I picked up the file beside me and began.

“You’re here on a training assignment. That means you’ll assist with whatever I need handled. Including, but not limited to—”

I flipped a page, deliberately meeting his eyes.

“—printing the updated briefing notes and having them highlighted on my desk by 9:00 a.m. sharp. Memorizing the team doctor’s report before tomorrow’s rehab consult. I’ll quiz you. And during player evaluations, you’ll be by my side. Observing. Silently. Asking nothing.”

His mouth fell open.

“You’re serious right now?” he snapped. “I’m not your fucking secretary.”

The heat in his voice was almost endearing. Almost cute.

I leaned forward, folding my hands.

“You’re on this trip because of me. You’re on this team because of me. You want to stay? Then you do whatever it takes.”

He tried to stand. I didn’t budge, my tone cutting through the air like glass.

“Sit down.”

He froze—then slowly lowered himself again, this time with less resistance.

I rose and circled behind him.

“You want to be a great quarterback, Blake? Then you train what’s missing. Right now, that’s discipline.”

I stopped just behind him, close enough for my voice to brush over his skin like silk.

“In the morning, we’ll work on your body. Full gym, 7 a.m. sharp. But right now? Your attitude needs the workout.”

He remained still.

“You want to learn what it takes to lead?” I asked, voice low and firm.

He gave a reluctant nod.

“Then follow orders.”

His throat bobbed. “Yes… Sir.”

I smiled.

“Good. Then let’s begin.”

As he stood and walked out, head held high but ears flushed red, I let my gaze linger.

The real game was only just beginning.