Chapter 216

Noah

Aiden came out of Micah’s room looking like the ground had been ripped out from under him. The moment his eyes found me, he collapsed straight into my arms—no hesitation, no barriers, just raw ache and relief and exhaustion. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him tight, burying my face in his shoulder while he pressed his forehead into my neck.

Hale slipped past us into the room without a word, giving us privacy.

He closed the door softly behind him.

Aiden’s breath shuddered against me. “I'll be honest, for a while I thought—I mean, it was like reliving my brother's accident all over—”

He couldn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

“I know, baby,” I whispered. “But he’s okay. He will recover.”

Hale reappeared a minute later, his voice quieter, steadier than both of ours combined. “I told Noah you two should go rest. Shower. Breathe. He’ll be asleep for hours, and I’ll be here the whole time.”

Aiden hesitated. Only for a second.

Hale met his eyes. “Go. He’ll want to see you when he wakes up later—not when you’re both half-dead on your feet.”

We didn’t argue after that.

We left the hospital in silence and got into Aiden’s car. The drive to his place felt unreal—streetlights streaking by, my pulse still stuck in that hospital hallway, my brain trying to hold too many fears at once.

Aiden’s rental house was small, neat, warm. Barely furnished. Like a man who hadn’t let himself imagine a future in it, long enough to make it a home.

He gave me a quick tour—kitchen, tiny living room, bedroom, small balcony overlooking the street.

“It’s temporary,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just until… well. Until I know where you’re being signed. And then I’ll figure out the rest. I’ll move. Wherever you go… if that’s still what you want.”

I turned toward him, stepping close, my chest tight. “Aiden… no matter where I go, I’ll always want you close. Even if we have to hide. Even if we can only meet in shadows. I don’t care. Just… be near.”

His jaw clenched, eyes shining. “Baby boy…”

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth like he needed the reassurance of touching me. I leaned into it, feeling the weight of the entire night settle in my bones.

“I love you,” he whispered.

I kissed him—soft, slow, like grounding myself in the one thing I still trusted. “I love you too.”

We sank onto the bed together, both still dressed, legs tangled automatically. I rested my head on his chest while he stroked my hair, calm for the first time in hours.

“I talked to Hale,” I murmured. “He told me about the lawyers.”

Aiden nodded against my forehead. “I know. He updated me too. I’m… still hoping for a miracle.”

I swallowed hard. Then the fear that had been gnawing at me since the moment he’d mentioned the contract spilled out before I could stop it.

“Aiden… if there really was no way out except waiting those five years… could you do it? Follow me team to team with no real relationship? No life together? Just… hoping?”

His fingers paused for a second in my hair, then continued their slow strokes. “Yes,” he said simply. “Five years will pass. And when they do, we’ll break that damn contract. I’d wait any amount of time for you.”

I breathed out, shaking. “I’ll break all the rules, then. Show up drunk if I have to, skip a practice—”

He snorted, tapping my nose. “Hey, here’s an idea… We can both be caught all over again but only 5 years from now…”

I laughed—actually laughed—and the sound felt so fragile and needed that it made my eyes burn. “Wouldn’t that be ironic? That the one thing that got us in would get us back out?”

“My baby boy…” he whispered, brushing a kiss over my hairline.

I lifted my head and kissed him again. This one deeper, slow and reverent. His mouth softened under mine, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, holding me close.

“We never had our last night together…” I murmured against his lips.

He tilted my chin gently, his forehead pressing to mine. “Shhh,” he breathed. “We have right now.”

And right there, in the quiet of his temporary house, after the longest, most terrifying night of our lives, we curled into each other—kissing, holding, breathing—undressing each other slowly, feeling the warmth of our bodies, breathing the same air… He kissed every inch of my body, trembling with need and emotion as I held on to him, hoping this moment would never end.

“I love you, baby…” His voice broke the moment he entered me, slowly, gently, taking in every moan from my lips, every breath, as we moved in sync, not desperate like before, not frantic.

Just present. Just us. Because right now was all we had and we were going to make it count.

He filled me completely, and for a moment, we both just stayed there, suspended. The world outside this room, the fear, the goodbyes, it all just dissolved. There was only the feeling of him inside me, a deep, grounding pressure that was more comforting than anything else.

His eyes were locked on mine, and in them, I saw everything he couldn't say. He started to move then, a slow, deliberate roll of his hips that sent a wave of pleasure through me so intense it was almost painful. It wasn't the frantic, needy fucking we'd done before, trying to erase fear with sensation. This was different. This was devotion. Each thrust was slow, deep, like he was trying to imprint the shape of himself into me forever.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, my heels pressing into the small of his back. I wanted to feel every inch of him. My hands roamed over his shoulders, down his spine, feeling the muscles flex and shift under my palms.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth. It was a constant, gentle contact, a reassurance that he was here, that I was here. The only sounds were our soft gasps, the slick sound of our bodies moving together, and the steady, rhythmic creak of the bed.

Changing the angle, he shifted slightly, and suddenly he was hitting that spot inside me that made my vision blur. A broken moan escaped my lips, and he captured it with a kiss, swallowing the sound. It was a messy, desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth and breath. He picked up the pace just a little, his thrusts becoming a little harder, a little deeper, but still holding that incredible slowness that was driving me insane.

I could feel the heat building in my stomach, a tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter with every movement. My fingers dug into his shoulders, holding on as the pleasure crested, a slow, overwhelming wave that washed over me, leaving me shaking and breathless beneath him.

My body shuddered as I let go, and with a final, deep thrust, he buried his face in my neck and followed, his whole body trembling against mine as he found his release.

He didn't pull out. He didn't move. He just collapsed onto me, his full weight a welcome anchor. I held him, my arms wrapped tight around his body, my face buried in his hair. We were both breathing hard, our hearts hammering against each other's ribs. We didn't say anything. We just lay there in the quiet, tangled together, sticky with sweat and cum, with him still inside me. It wasn't frantic or desperate anymore. It was just a quiet, perfect, heartbreaking end before we finally said goodbye.