Chapter 187

Noah

The roar of the crowd hit like thunder. The chant of my name rolled across the stadium like a tide, reaching the hallways before we even came out—and I tried to let it fill me, to remind me I was here, at the edge of everything I’d ever wanted, but I was so damn angry and disappointed!

I’d let Aiden down.

We were supposed to have tonight—our night. The one he’d planned with such care, a celebration meant only for us. But William had made sure that world never happened.

When I told Aiden about the new family plans, about the mansion William had rented for the weekend, he’d spoken to me tense but calm. What I hadn’t told him was what happened after.

When I’d tried to insist I needed time to celebrate with the team—time with my friends—William had pinned me against the wall with that quiet, deadly glare of his.

“This is not optional,” he’d said, his voice low and cold enough to cut through bone. “You’re engaged to my daughter, and that means you’re part of this family. From this point forward, you’ll act like it.”

I could still feel the sting of his fingers against my collar, the heat of his breath when he said it.

“I know who you plan on celebrating with—and how. I’ve turned a blind eye to your little fucking escapades, but as of tonight, they’re over. Cross me again, and you’ll regret it.”

That look in his eyes? He meant it.

So I didn’t argue. I didn’t even blink.

I could take a punch. I could take the lies, the fake smiles, the bullshit dinners. But I couldn’t risk him finding out for real. Not yet.

Not when everything we’d built was hanging by a thread.

So yeah, it sucked.

No more nights with Aiden. No more slipping through the dark to feel like we actually had a life together. Not for a while, anyway.

But this was the deal.

We’d already agreed that after this game, we’d give it the two or three months before the wedding.

Aiden would line up his coaching offers, figure out where we could go next.

I’d get my contract, play it smart, start saving up.

Two or three months, that’s all we needed. Time to get Mom’s divorce finalized, move her and Emily out of William’s shadow. Time to talk to Lexie, end the engagement, find a lawyer, and cut the last string holding me to him.

Minimum contact. Maximum control. Survive, stay quiet, play smart.

But god, it burned.

I needed tonight. Needed him.

And now it was gone.

So, fine. I’d play this damn game like it was my last breath.

I’d make Aiden proud as hell, win this thing, and find a way to steal time alone with him after. If all we had was five minutes, I was gonna fucking make them count

I’d already spotted a few empty rooms near the west hall—no cameras, no foot traffic. I’d take what I could get.

The locker room buzzed like a live wire. Guys shouting, slamming helmets, music blasting loud enough to shake the walls.

Keon clapped me on the shoulder. “You good, man?”

“Yeah.” I forced a grin. “Better than good.”

He nodded, no idea what that actually meant.

Because tonight? I wasn’t just playing for the trophy or the scouts or the damn crowd.

I was playing for future freedom.

The Bowl stadium was insane. Floodlights everywhere, cameras, banners, reporters yelling over each other.

Everywhere I looked, there were faces I knew—scouts, coaches, a few old rivals. Mom and Emily were in the front rows, waving their flags like it was the Super Bowl and that melted my heart. Lexie was already on the field with the cheer squad, bright smile, perfect hair, shaking her pom-poms like this was her wedding rehearsal. William watched from a private box, looking every bit the king of this circus.

My eyes found Aiden, pretending to focus on the clipboard in his hands. Our eyes locked for maybe a second, and he smiled… God, that was all it took.

Focus. Fire. Let’s do this.

The whistle blew, and everything exploded.

The first half was brutal—tackles, grunts, cursing, the roar of the crowd when we scored, the sting of turf when we didn’t. Alabama’s defense was a wall. Every time I hit the ground, I got up faster. Every time they tried to break me, I hit back harder. Running myself to the ground and already starting to feel the burn, the body exhaustion, and the beginning of a splitting headache, but to hell with the pain, I had to push through. Go, go, go…

Second half.

Fourth quarter.

We were up by six, and the adrenaline was burning through me like jet fuel.

Then it happened.

A bad snap, a blindside hit. I didn’t even see the guy coming—just a flash of red and white and a sound like thunder before I slammed into the ground, shoulder-first.

The world tilted. Ringing in my ears. Stadium noise gone for a heartbeat.

Then—screaming.

The crowd gasped. Someone yelled my name. Aiden’s voice somewhere, sharp and tight: “Noah! Stay down—”

“Fuck that,” I hissed, trying to move. Pain burned up my arm like fire, but I forced myself to roll onto my knees.

Coach Sanders was already waving for the medic, but I pushed him off. “I’m fine,” I lied through my teeth. “I can play.”

Aiden’s face appeared over the line, pale but furious. “You sure you can continue?”

“Watch me,” I said, spitting out dirt, breathless.

They tried to bench me. I shook my head and went right back in. Couldn’t stop now. Not with them watching. Not with him watching.

The rest was a blur—sound, movement, the lights hitting like lightning every time I blinked. My shoulder screamed, my lungs burned, but I kept running, hitting, pushing.

It all came down to the last thirty seconds. The story of my life.

Fourth down. Forty yards. One chance. History repeating itself.

Keon called the play. My heart slammed in my chest. The crowd was deafening now, a wall of sound.

The snap—clean.

I took it and ran.

Everything else disappeared — the lights, the pain, the fear, even the noise. There was just the field and the breath in my lungs and Aiden’s voice in my head—

You can do this, baby boy.

I broke through one tackle, then another, shoulder screaming as someone grazed it.

Five yards. Ten. Fifteen.

The safety dove, missed.

Twenty.

Thirty.

End zone.

I don’t even remember crossing the line—just the sound. The explosion. The entire stadium losing its fucking mind.

I hit my knees, gasping, every muscle in my body shaking. Teammates crashing around me, arms wrapping me, shouting. Cameras flashing like gunfire.

Aiden was suddenly there, pushing through the crowd, grabbing my face through the helmet. His voice was a rough whisper, breaking through the noise.

“You idiot,” he said, eyes burning. “You absolute idiot. You could’ve been killed.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out like a wheeze. “Worth it.”

He shook his head, jaw tight, then leaned in close enough for only me to hear.

“I love you,” he said. “More than my own damn life.”

I smiled, breathless, aching everywhere, barely able to stand.

“That’s my real win,” I whispered.

The crowd roared again, and for a second, it all blurred into one endless, perfect sound—

Victory, pain, love, and the promise of whatever came next.