Crossing Lines Chapter 57

**Noah**

The moment I left the basement and walked back into the party, my mind flipped from the haze of that boyfriend-type kiss I’d stupidly just given him—and the leftover nerves from almost getting caught—into sanity, *dude mode*. The perfect player mask slid into place: cool guy, half-drunk, loose grin, ready for anyone who looked my way. No one here could know where I’d been or who I’d been with, and I was damn well going to make sure they didn’t.

Music pounded through the walls, the smell of beer and sweat clinging to the heat-thick air. People were laughing, shouting over each other, pressed shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space. I weaved through the crowd, grabbing a drink here and there—figuring, what better way to look half-drunk than to actually become the part… Right? *Wrong*. I started chatting with everyone I knew, scanning for somewhere to park myself.

That’s when Keon spotted me, grinning like an idiot, a Solo cup in one hand and his arm already coming around my shoulders. “Yo, Blake!” he laughed, pulling me in. “So… how’d it go with Lexie?”

For half a second, I froze. Then it clicked—when he and Devon had walked in on me earlier, shirtless and hanging by the basement door, claiming I had company without naming names. Of course he’d connected it to my flirting with Lexie earlier.

Perfect.

I smirked and took the cup he handed me. “She’s hot,” I said, tossing it off with just the right amount of cocky understatement. “Knows what she’s doing.”

Keon barked a laugh and gave me a *lucky bastard* look, then clinked his cup against mine. Just like that, cover story locked.

We ended up in the living room with a group of guys, trading dumb jokes and talking plays from camp. The music was too loud, people looser, girls a lot flirtier. I kept my grin easy, my body relaxed, but my head was still downstairs—replaying the way he’d looked at me in the shadows, the way he’d given me so much and still left me wanting more. I didn’t know what it was about this man, but I always wanted more.

And then he walked back into the room.

The noise shifted when Aiden appeared, so casual anyone would think he’d just been mingling or taking a breather outside. He moved like nothing in the world could touch him—calm, collected, and with that controlled kind of charm that didn’t compete with the chaos of the party. He clapped Keon on the shoulder, told him happy birthday, thanked him for the invite. Then he said he was grabbing a cab home.

I nodded along with the group, pretending to be just another guy in the room. Inside, every nerve in my body wanted to follow him out that door. But even drunk-me knew better—taking that ride with him was out of the question. Riding my bike to his place was just as impossible; the rules were the rules. So I stood there, watching his back disappear into the crowd, and made myself stay planted.

The cab was long gone by the time I finally pulled myself out of it. I stayed put, nursed my drink, threw a couple of cups in beer pong, let the night blur into background noise. If I left right after him, someone might notice. Better to let it breathe.

That’s when Devon showed up. He slid into the circle, drink in hand, smirking like he was already halfway to blackout. At first it was harmless—just crap talk about camp drills and how much he hated the early starts. Then he turned it on Aiden.

“Guy’s a fucking queer anyway,” he muttered, loud enough for the group to hear—some of my teammates shifting uncomfortably. “Don’t know why everyone treats him like he’s some big shot. If he were, he’d be playing, not training a loser team. Fallen star—just another failure trying to relive his glory days through rookies.”

“Well, these rookies are gonna smash your team at the championship this year thanks to him.” Keon shoved him with a laugh and a wink.

“Mercer? Please… He doesn’t stand a chance. Acts like a hard-ass ‘cause it’s all he’s got left, but I bet you at home he’s a drunk, jerking off to pictures of his old team.”

The words hit me like a punch to the ribs. Heat flared in my chest, flooding fast and hard. I didn’t think. Didn’t stop.

“Shut your damn mouth,” I snapped, my voice cutting through the noise. “You don’t know a thing about him.”

Devon’s eyes narrowed, his grin turning mean. “Oh, I know enough.”

“The hell you do,” I shot back, stepping closer, the crowd around us going still. “So unless you’ve got something worth saying, shut the fuck up.”

The guys went quiet for a beat. Keon’s eyes cut to me, quick and measuring. Devon grinned slow, like he’d just found something to sink his teeth into.

“What, you his little bitch? Teacher’s pet?”

I stepped forward before my brain caught up, my chest bumping his. The room tensed. We were both breathing hard, the edge of something real right there between us.

“Knock it off,” someone said, pushing between us. Another guy warned Devon to cool it or get out. Devon muttered something that sounded like, *“I’ll give you proof”* under his breath but didn’t push it further.

The noise started back up, but my head wasn’t in it anymore. I muttered something to Keon about being tired, about heading to my dorm, and made for the door.

Halfway there, I glanced back. Keon was leaning against the wall, talking to Lexie. She laughed at something he said, but then her eyes slid toward me. Not long, just a flick—quick enough to make my gut tighten. If they were talking about me… what exactly had she told him?

Out in the cooler night air, the adrenaline bled into something heavier. I’d reacted without thinking—too fast, too raw. And all because someone mouthed off about him.

If I didn’t get it together, this was going to blow up in both our faces.