Page 33 of Touchdowns and Tinsel

Outside, I grip the handle of the car door, desperate to gather my scattered thoughts as the guys gather around in the garage, waiting for me to get back in the car, their chatter a dull hum against the rising storm in my chest.

Shit, shit, shit. What the fuck have I done? And more importantly—what the fuck am I going to do next?

I lean against the side of the car, letting my mind race through the moments we just shared. Noelle’s kisses, her sweet whispers, the way her hands trembled beneath my touch—they all reverberate in my head like a haunting melody. I can hear Ryder and the guys in the background, their conversation blending into the symphony of my thoughts.

“Hey, man, are you OK?” Ryder steps closer, his expression shifting from casual to serious, reading the turmoil I can’t hide.

“Do I fucking look OK?” I snap, surprising even myself with the sharpness of my tone.

I turn away briefly, running a hand through my hair, willing the frustration to dissipate. “We just put her through a fucking whirlwind, got closer to her, and now have to act like none of that shit even fucking happened, and you have the fucking balls to ask if I’m OK?”

The guys quiet down, realizing this isn’t just a matter of joking around anymore. I can feel their eyes on me, waiting, andanxiety begins to scratch at my throat, making it feel tighter with each gasped breath.

“We need to focus on why we’re here,” Hudson says slowly, his gaze steady. “If you’re letting emotions cloud your judgment...”

“I know why the fuck we’re here!” I bark, the tension boiling over. “And believe me, I’m aware of what’s at stake!” But even as I say it, the urgency of our predicament presses in on me like an inescapable weight. I can’t afford to fucking crumble—none of us can.

Still, the image of Noelle, blindfolded yet wide-eyed with something between hope and despair, gnaws at my conscience. I want to tell her the truth. I want to make things right, but the threads of our reality are too tangled, a web woven by deceit and forbidden feelings that absolutely have to stay a secret.

“I just need a fucking moment,” I finally manage, pushing away from the car and stepping into my own thoughts. “I’ll be right back.” The guys share wary looks—Ryder’s brow is furrowed, but he wisely doesn’t press me further.

I walk to the edge of the driveway, breathing in the cool night air that stings my chest, my thoughts a torrent. The streetlights cast an eerie ambiance over the snow-covered asphalt, shadows flickering like ghosts of what could have been. I need clarity—something to grasp onto amidst the fucking chaos I’ve invited into our lives.

I now know that Noelle had nothing to do with the home invasion that killed my father, and I feel like a fucking asshole for taking my aggression out on her for the last couple years. She was—still is—a fucking victim, and here I've been treating her like shit for nothing. But if I let on now that I believe her, will she put the pieces of the puzzle together and realize it was me who kidnapped her? Fuck, there's too much at stake.

What if there’s a way to unravel this mess without losing Noelle? Without losing myself in the process? It’s a longshot, but the more I think, the clearer it becomes: I need to understand the depths of her situation, who she thought I was, and how far she’s willing to go to find the truth once she’s free.

A cold realization grips me. What if she thinks we’ve betrayed her? The thought sends a sharp bolt of dread through my gut. I can’t let her settle into that belief. Not when she’s so close to uncovering everything.

The last remnants of calm seeps away, replaced by determination. I head back to the garage, shaking off everything that threatens to drown me. Ryder's eyes narrow as I approach, and I know it’s time to share a plan—a real plan.

“Okay,” I say, my voice firm and resolve. “We can’t just let it end like this. I need to be honest with her, at least partially, like apologizing for the hell I've been giving her these last few years."

“Fine, but that's it. We can’t fucking risk exposing ourselves,” Aiden warns, crossing his arms. “What she doesn’t know keeps her safe.”

“I can’t pretend it’s okay anymore,” I fire back, irritation flaring between us. “I can’t walk away when she’s still in such an uncertain place. She deserves to know at least part of the truth.”

Hudson sighs, frustration evident in the crease of his brow. “You do realize that means we need to rethink the entire operation, right? We only have a few hours left until everything changes.”

“I don’t give a shit about the operation,” I almost shout, anger tightening my throat. “This is about Noelle and—“

And before I can finish my thought, I see Ryder’s face shift from anger to understanding. “You’re right. She needs something to hold onto if this is going to work.”

So we spew ideas back and forth, game plans evolving from desperation to hope—the kinds of chances I never imagined taking. If we’re going to do this, it means unearthing layers oflies wrapped tightly around the truth, and I need to find a way to ensure she doesn’t break under their weight.

“Fine,” Ryder finally relents, his voice steadying. “Let’s hash out the best way to approach this.

And just like that, amidst the shadows of looming decisions and hidden secrets, we reshape our paths. Our conversation fuels a fire within me—not just for survival but for the possibility of freeing Noelle from the dark confines we’ve unintentionally built around her.

I push the thoughts of the past aside, focusing squarely on the plan building before us. Whatever I have to do next, I’ll do it to protect her, to show her that beneath all the turmoil lies a bond that was forged not just in darkness but in undeniable light.

Tomorrow may be a new beginning, but tonight, I'm going to do what I do best: watch her from my laptop because, fuck, I already can't get her out of my fucking head, and I literally just dropped her off.

I'm fucked.

sixteen

Noelle

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