Crossing Lines Chapter 78

**Noah**

I froze, towel clutched around my hips, my whole body stiff as Miguel’s eyes stayed glued to the marks on my skin. My heart pounded so loud I swore he could hear it.

“Miguel, it’s nothing,” I blurted, fumbling with the towel until it was wrapped tighter around me. I sucked in a breath. “It’s… it’s not what you think it is.”

His eyebrows shot up, his face unreadable for a beat before that crooked grin tugged at his mouth. “Really? ’Cause what I’m thinking is either someone’s beating the crap out of you, you’ve got a *really* kinky girlfriend… or you’re one of those very, very fanatic Catholics who whips themselves for fun. Which, honestly, would explain your recent streak of celibacy.”

My head snapped up. “I’m not in celibacy, dude! Jesus. I just don’t bring who I date around here, that’s all.”

Miguel blinked at me, waiting. The silence stretched. My palms were sweating. Shit, I had to say something before Sherlock Holmes Jr. pieced it all together himself.

“The truth is…” My throat locked, but I forced it out. “…I’m a bit into BDSM, okay? Bondage and… stuff.”

Miguel’s jaw dropped so far I thought it might actually hit the floor. Before he could say anything, I scrambled on, words tumbling out. “It’s not a big deal, alright? Just—just don’t say anything. Please. Please, Miguel. This stays between us.”

His grin widened, but it wasn’t cruel. It was curious. Respectful, even. “Hey, hey. Relax. I’m not gonna run my mouth. Respect for being honest, man. That’s… actually kinda awesome.” He tilted his head, his voice softening. “I just wanna make sure you’re not being abused or something. You know what you’re doing, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” I waved him off, heat climbing my neck. “I know all about it. No one’s torturing me against my will or chaining me to a radiator. I’m just… experimenting. Safely. That’s all.”

Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. “Damn. I knew there was a freaky side under all that golden-boy quarterback crap. Good for you, man.” Then, like the world’s worst wingman, he added, “So… details?”

I shoved at his shoulder, laughing nervously. “Hell no. You’re not getting details.”

“Fine, fine.” He smirked. “But you better come with us for a drink tonight, help plan homecoming. Keeps the assholes from starting rumors, you know?”

“I’ll see,” I muttered, tugging my towel tighter.

But even as I said it, my chest tightened with the truth. No way. Not a chance. Because no matter what, after everything we’d just been through, the only person I wanted to see tonight was Aiden. The only one I needed was him.

I threw my clothes back on in record time, desperate to escape before Miguel decided to ask anything else. My skin still burned with the weight of his questions, his smirk, his *promise* not to talk. God, if he slipped up even once, if anyone found out… I’d be done. All of it—football, school, my whole life. Over.

In hindsight, I realize now how many things back then were a threat to everything I was or wanted to be. I was living on the edge, walking the tightrope more than stepping on firm ground.

I shoved my bag over my shoulder and started across campus, head down, already plotting how fast I could get to Sir’s house. My chest eased at the thought—safe, grounded, in his arms where none of this noise could touch me.

“Noah.”

My feet stopped dead. His voice.

I turned, and there he was. Still in his training gear, arms folded across his chest, looking every bit the coach. But his eyes softened when they met mine.

“Good work today,” he said, calm and measured. “You pushed hard.”

My throat tightened, heat crawling up my neck. A compliment, simple, but it hooked into me deeper than it should.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I tried.”

He studied me for a moment, like he could read everything I wasn’t saying. Then: “I heard the guys are getting together tonight. Planning homecoming.”

I snorted. “Don’t worry. I’m not going. They’ll be fine without me.”

I shifted my bag, already angling toward the parking lot. “I’ll head to the house, wait for you there—”

“No.” His voice stopped me cold. Firm, but not unkind. “Maybe you should go. Blend in. Participate in the planning like everyone else. If you skip it, people will start asking questions.”

Disappointment slammed into me so fast it almost showed on my face. *What the hell is with everyone insisting I blend in?* Keon, Miguel, now him. Couldn’t they just let me breathe? Couldn’t he see I only wanted *him*?

He must’ve caught the flicker of my reaction, because his tone softened. “Now that the school year’s starting, there will be more eyes on us. More people paying attention. We need to be extra careful—for both our sakes.”

Ha. If he only knew all the crap going around already—that I was into something shady, that I took off every night to God knows where, that I didn’t like girls… and now, to top it all, that Miguel knew what I was into but just didn’t know who with. He would’ve freaked the fuck out.

Hell, *I* should’ve been freaking the fuck out…

I nodded, forcing myself to swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah. Extra careful.”

But inside, my chest twisted. It sounded like distance. Like he was pushing me away. And yet… '*extra careful'* still meant together. It wasn’t '*we need to stop.'* It wasn’t the end.

So I clung to that.

I waved, casual as I could fake it. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

Then I turned and headed toward the bar where the guys were meeting, every step heavier than the last. After all, maybe this was a good idea. Maybe I needed to get out of my head and his head for once.

I was just stepping through the door when Keon’s voice cut through the noise.

“Noah! Look who’s here!”

I looked up—straight into Cindy’s smile.

*Fuck. I’m so busted.*