Invisible To Her Bully Chapter 56

Jessa

The stadium was still buzzing, cheers echoing through the cool night air as the scoreboard flashed WINNER in bold, glowing letters. My heart was still hammering, my voice hoarse from yelling as I clutched Mariah’s arm.

Our school had pulled it off.

Jackson had led the team like the star quarterback he was, and Noah… well, Noah had played like a man possessed. That last tackle? The interception? My chest swelled with pride just thinking about it.

Mariah squeezed my arm, practically vibrating with excitement. “Come on, Jessa! Let’s go congratulate Jackson and the guys!”

I froze.

Standing on the field, in the middle of all those people—most of whom probably didn’t even know my name—felt like stepping into a spotlight I wasn’t sure I wanted. My stomach twisted, anxiety creeping up my throat. “I don’t know…” I mumbled, biting my lip.

Mariah rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh no, you are not backing out now. Your brother just crushed it out there, and Noah—” she smirked knowingly, “—well, Noah might appreciate seeing you a little closer too. You look amazing tonight, Jess. Let’s go.”

Before I could protest, she tugged me down the bleachers and into the flow of students heading toward the field.

As we reached the bottom, I spotted Jackson surrounded by a swarm of teammates and fans, everyone clapping him on the back and shouting congratulations. He looked completely at home in the chaos, his grin wide and confident.

But then my eyes found him.

Noah Carter.

He stood a few feet away, his dark hair damp with sweat, his jersey clinging to his broad shoulders and chest. Even from a distance, he looked like a force of nature—strong, unstoppable, untouchable.

And then… he saw me.

It felt like the entire stadium went silent. Our eyes locked, and something inside me fluttered wildly. His expression shifted, softening in a way that made my breath catch.

Mariah gave me a sly grin. “Uh-oh. Someone’s got tunnel vision,” she teased, but I barely heard her.

Noah moved toward me, cutting through the crowd with single-minded determination. The closer he got, the more my nerves tangled into a tight knot.

And then he was right there, standing so close I could smell the faint scent of sweat and grass mixed with his cologne.

“You,” he said, his voice rough from the game. His gaze zeroed in on my cheek, where his number was painted in bold black and gold.

Before I could even speak, his thumb brushed across it, smearing it slightly. Then he stepped even closer, towering over me, his presence so overwhelming I forgot how to breathe.

His lips curved into a slow, almost possessive smile. “My number looks good on you,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

My entire body went hot.

Before I could react, he cupped my face with both hands. His palms were warm and calloused from the game, his grip gentle but unyielding, like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go. He tilted my head up, forcing me to meet his eyes.

And God, that smile.

It wasn’t his usual cocky smirk or teasing grin. It was soft. Real. The kind of smile that made my heart lurch and my knees threaten to give out beneath me.

For a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of us—me and Noah, standing in the glow of the stadium lights, the noise of the crowd fading into a distant hum.

“Noah…” My voice came out barely above a whisper, shaky and unsure.

Behind me, Mariah let out a quiet, “Well, damn,” but she didn’t interrupt.

Noah’s thumbs stroked lightly over my cheeks, smearing the paint a little more, and his eyes burned into mine with an intensity that made my pulse stutter.

“Now,” he said softly, almost like a promise, “everyone knows you’re mine.”

I froze, stunned, my breath catching in my throat.

Was this real?

Had Noah Carter—the boy who’d spent years teasing me, confusing me, driving me crazy—just claimed me in front of the entire school?