Page 11 of Rivals on Lockdown

Louis didn’t say anything as they passed through the vestibule, but his chest felt tight. Kaden could try to hide from the guard’s gaze and bury himself in his phone, but it wouldn’t change what had happened—or the weight of everything still unsaid between them.

Louis pulled out his phone as the service bars finally appeared. Three missed calls from Aunt Mara. He quickly typed out a message:Hey, I’m okay. Sorry, had some phone problems! Everything’s great. Will call tonight.

They pushed through the stadium doors into a world of white. Snow piled knee-deep and still falling so thick it blurred the horizon, reducing everything to a cold, swirling haze. Without a word, they trudged toward the gate, both fumbling with their Uber apps, their frozen fingers clumsy against the screens.

The unspoken words burned in Louis’s chest. Whatever had sparked and flickered to life in that dark locker room was already fading, dissolving into the cold like breath on winter air, leaving behind nothing but the ache of its absence.

They didn’t say a word as they waited for their Ubers. Louis scrolled through his phone, glancing at the team group chat. Someone had shared links to articles praising his shots from last night’s game—apparently, they were being called the best of the season so far. The game itself felt oddly distant now, even though it had only been last night. Another message popped up: photos from the party at Lopez’s house. A few of the guys had mentioned missing him. Louis stared at the picturesfor a moment, then locked his phone, the ache in his chest growing heavier.

The first set of headlights appeared, cutting through the falling snow and announcing Kaden’s ride. Kaden turned toward him, and Louis braced for the usual smirk, the parting jab he’d come to expect. Instead, Kaden stepped closer and held out his hand.

Louis hesitated, then took it. The handshake was firm but brief. When their eyes met, Louis caught something unexpected—a glimmer of tears in Kaden’s blue eyes. It lasted only a moment before Kaden quickly looked away.

“Merry Christmas, Zenith,” Kaden said, his voice low and rough.

“Merry Christmas, Faulter,” Louis replied just as quietly.

Louis stayed where he was after Kaden’s cab pulled away, the taillights disappearing into the snowy haze. Even as the cold crept in, he waited for his own ride, unmoving. Whatever had happened between them—whatever it was—it was over now.

He had to let it go.

***

Louis moved around his kitchen, the rich smell of duck and cranberries filling the air. He’d decided that a proper Christmas dinner might help shake off the lingering melancholy—even if it was just for one. A feta salad sat waiting in a glass bowl on the counter while he gave the mashed potatoes a final stir, steam curling into the air.

He poured himself a glass of red wine, letting the soft strains of Christmas music drift through the apartment. The ache in his chest hadn’t disappeared entirely, but it felt different now. Lighter, somehow, like he’d finally let go of something he’d been holding onto for far too long.

Kaden’s face flashed in his mind—the way he’d looked when he turned back for that handshake, the hint of something raw in his eyes that Louis hadn’t dared believe was real. Louis sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck as he leaned against the counter. He told himself it was better this way, that whatever had sparked between them had burned itself out in that locker room. But his body remembered—his skin prickled with the ghost of Kaden’s touch, and the weight of his presence still lingered, impossible to ignore.

Maybe that’s what last night had been—a chance to lay old ghosts to rest. A way to finally move on from whatever unspoken thing had haunted them for years.

The doorbell cut through Nat King Cole’s smooth voice, startling him.

Louis crossed to the door, the wine glass still cradled in his hand. He wasn’t expecting anyone tonight. Maybe it was a neighbor who’d run out of salt or needed to borrow something last-minute. His steps slowed as he neared the door, a faint, inexplicable nervousness creeping into his chest.

He hesitated, then leaned forward to peer through the peephole. His breath caught.

It couldn’t be—

His heart hammered as he turned the lock and pulled the door open.

Chapter 5. Together

Kaden stood in the hallway, his usual polish intact but slightly unraveled by the snowstorm. Damp flakes clung to his hair, his cheeks were flushed from the cold, and his coat had the faint sheen of melted snow. He looked almost nervous—still beautiful, but different somehow, softer, less guarded. Louis could only stare.

“Hey,” Kaden said, his voice quiet, almost sheepish.

“Kaden?” The name slipped out, soft with surprise. It felt like the only thing Louis could manage, and maybe it sounded a little stupid, but he didn’t care. To say he was surprised would have been an understatement.

“Is this a bad time?” Kaden asked, his gaze flickering with the slightest trace of panic like he’d just realized he might be intruding.

“No—no,” Louis said quickly, stepping aside to let him in. “I was just making dinner. Come in, please.”

Kaden stepped into the apartment, holding out a bottle of wine. He shifted his weight awkwardly like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. “I brought wine,” he said, his voice quiet, before his gaze darted to the glass already in Louis’s hand. “But I see you’ve got some.”

“Thanks—there’s never enough wine,” Louis said, a little too quickly, taking the bottle from Kaden. His fingers brushedagainst Kaden’s for a second, and he felt absurdly self-conscious. God, why did he feel like a nervous schoolboy? “How did you know where I live?” he asked, trying to steer his thoughts back to solid ground as he closed the door behind him.

“Uh…” Kaden hesitated, looking sheepish before admitting, “I paid someone.”

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