Chapter 267

Chapter 267
Noah

After that reunion, Aiden couldn’t wait to introduce me to his brother.

It didn’t turn into a fairy tale overnight. There were awkward moments, long pauses, unspoken things still hovering in the air. But slowly—steadily—the walls came down. Conversations grew easier. Laughter came faster. And before we knew it, something real was taking shape again. Not what they’d lost. But what they should’ve had through the years.

We got along… dangerously well, which meant teaming up against Aiden whenever possible.
Video games that went way past midnight. Horror movie marathons where we pretended not to scream and absolutely did. Pancakes for dinner because “breakfast food doesn’t obey time,” according to Jamie....

Aiden complained exactly once before giving up and resigning himself to being outnumbered.

His family came around too. Carefully at first. Then warmly. Then fully. It felt like something knitting itself back together—uneven stitches, maybe, but strong.

None of this could ever erase the past, the tragedy, or Aiden's poor choices, but it brought peace and closure to an old wound and a new kind of restoration. It also brought us family and love.

So when the time came to face our other big life-altering challenge, we weren’t standing alone.
We had the biggest support group imaginable.

At least the part of the world I actually gave a shit about.



The press room was quiet in that eerie way that happens right before something explodes.
Bright lights. Neutral backdrop. Rows of chairs filled with journalists pretending they weren’t about to dissect my life. My name printed neatly on the podium. The team logo behind it.

My hands were cold.

Aiden stood beside me, close enough that our shoulders brushed. He didn’t say much. He didn’t need to. His presence was solid, grounding—like a reminder that no matter what happened in the next ten minutes, I wasn’t doing this alone.

“You okay?” he murmured.

I nodded. “Terrified.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re doing great already.”

I squeezed his hand once. Then again. And then, because screw it, I didn’t let go for one long beat.

When I stepped up to the podium, the room went still, and I took a breath.
Then another.

“Thank you for being here,” I began. My voice wobbled for half a second before I steadied it. “I asked for this conference because there’s something important I want to say in my own words.”

I glanced sideways at Aiden. He met my eyes. Calm. Proud. Unshaken.

“I’m tired of pretending,” I said quietly. “And I’m tired of lying by omission.”

The room went still.

“I’ve been afraid for a long time. Afraid of being rejected. Afraid of losing everything I worked for. Afraid that telling the truth about who I am would cost me my future.”

I swallowed, my hands tightening around the edge of the podium.

“And that fear hurt me. It hurt my spirit. It hurt my mental health. It hurt my relationships. I convinced myself that surviving was enough—even if it meant never being whole.”

I took a breath, steadying myself.

“I am a gay man.”

There it was. Clear. Undeniable.

“I’ve known for a long time. But knowing something and accepting it are two very different things. I spent years hiding my truth—and in doing so, I was hiding the man I love.”

My voice shook now. I didn’t stop it.

“I fell in love deeply. Completely. And I told myself that loving him didn’t mean something about me. That I could keep him aside and still call it love.”

I turned my head then, just enough.

“This is my husband, Aiden.”

Gasps. Cameras. But I didn’t look away.

“We were married a few months ago, surrounded by the people who stood by us when the world felt unsafe. And standing here now, I know something with absolute certainty—denying who I am was denying him. And that wasn’t love. That was fear.”

I faced the room again.

“We all deserve to live honestly. To love fully. Without shame. Without compromise. Without asking permission.”

My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break my ribs.

“I love football. I respect this organization. I will continue to give everything I have on the field. But my life does not end there.”

I reached for Aiden’s hand.

“This is my family. And I won’t hide him anymore. I know not everyone will understand. That’s okay. What matters is that I show up honestly—as a player, as a teammate, and as a man.”

A pause.

“I’m done being afraid.”

Silence.
Then applause—not explosive, not performative, but real.

Earned.



That night, we cooked dinner at home like it was any other day.
Pasta. Music low. Shoes kicked off by the door.

We curled up on the couch afterward, exhaustion settling into our bones in that good way—the kind that comes after doing something hard and necessary.
I rested my head on his shoulder as he kissed my hair.

“We did it,” I whispered.

He smiled into my temple. “Together.”



The next morning we woke up tangled together, kissing and cuddling like it was any other day.
Like we hadn’t just cracked our lives wide open.
Like there wasn’t a tidal wave waiting for us outside.

Music drifted softly through the kitchen while Aiden moved around with quiet purpose. I watched him from the counter, shirtless and goddamn sexy, still half asleep, still stupidly happy.

“Is my Master making me breakfast?” I asked, grinning.

He didn’t even look at me when he leaned in, stealing a slow kiss. “Yes, baby boy. And don’t you get used to it.”

He slid a plate in front of me. Eggs. Coffee. Everything exactly how I liked it.

“Eat,” he said gently. “You’ve got a game to prepare for.”

I took his hand, pulling him close for one more kiss.

We were halfway through breakfast when Aiden’s phone started buzzing.
Not a polite little vibration, but a full-on, continuous assault.

He frowned at it. Then at mine—doing the same thing on the counter.

“That’s…a lot,” I muttered.

He checked the screen without opening anything. “Unknown numbers. Group chats. Media.”

Hale’s call came through, and Aiden answered on speaker.

“Hey—”

“Are you watching the news?” Our friend asked immediately, no greeting, no warm-up.

“Nope,” I said before Aiden could answer. “We very intentionally turned off notifications, emails, media, and even the curtains.”

A pause.

“…Yeah, you’re gonna wanna turn the TV on.”

Aiden and I exchanged a look. He reached for the remote as the screen flickered to life.

There we were.
Me at the podium. Aiden at my side. My voice shaking. My hand gripping his.

The headline crawled across the bottom of the screen.

NFL STAR COMES OUT: ‘I’M DONE HIDING.’

My breath caught.

The footage shifted—clips from the press conference, then reactions.

Fans holding signs outside the stadium.

WE GOT YOU, NOAH.

LOVE WINS.

STILL OUR QB.

One of my teammates appeared next, calm and steady.

“He’s our brother,” he said. “Always has been.”

Another clip—different tone.

A former player shaking his head.

“This isn’t what football stands for.”

A commentator calling it “a distraction.”

My stomach tightened.

Then the response came fast.
Social media screenshots flashed by—support pouring in, hashtags trending, celebrities speaking up. The LGBTQ community rallying hard, loud, unapologetic.
Clips of protests outside sports bars.
Pride flags draped over jerseys.
Organizations calling out homophobia by name.

The noise was overwhelming.

I felt Aiden’s hand slide into mine. Firm. Grounding.

Tears slipped down my face before I even realized they were there.

“This is…a lot,” I whispered.

He squeezed my fingers. “Yeah.”

We watched in silence as the coverage continued—support outweighing backlash, outrage answered by solidarity. The team’s official statement scrolled across the screen, clear and unwavering.

WE SUPPORT OUR PLAYER AND HIS FAMILY.

I leaned into Aiden’s shoulder, heart pounding.

“They’re going to talk,” I said softly. “Some of them are going to hate us.”

“I know,” he replied, just as quietly. “And some already do.”

I turned my face toward him. “Are you okay?”

He brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping a tear. “I’m more than okay. I’m proud of you.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “I’m terrified.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “But we didn’t do this to be comfortable. We did it to be free.”

I nodded, pressing my forehead to his.

Outside, the world was loud. Divided. Messy. But here—right now—we were steady.
Hand in hand. Watching the truth ripple outward.

Together.