“You’ll be punished for that,” he whispers, a wicked glint in his eyes as we both head down the elevator.
“I’ll be waiting, Daddy,” I throw over my shoulder as I walk out of the metal box.
“Fuck,” his whispered curse following me.
* * *
Noah walks up to the stage, the hum of the ballroom falling quiet, wondering why the Boston Bandit’s goalie is a chief guest at a fundraiser for mental health.
For a moment, he says nothing, his griptightening on the podium, his body tense. Then his eyes instantly find mine, and I visibly see him relaxing enough to begin.
His throat works as he clears it.
“He’s such a goner for you,” Kaeli, sitting beside me, whispers. Her observation makes me smile, butterflies still ever-present in my stomach when it comes to him.
“Don’t remind me,” comes Ezra’s voice. It’s still going to take him some time to come around to the idea of his sister dating his best friend.
Though if you ask me, he’s just a drama queen and secretly loves all we do to convince him.
“People often believe they know what strength looks like,” Noah’s raspy voice cuts through the conversation.
He takes in the room, his words enrapturing the crowd before he even really begins.
“They believe it’s winning. Enduring. Getting back up after you’ve been knocked down.” A faint, humorless smile ghosts his lips, my heart twisting for him. “And yeah…that’s a part of it.”
Noah’s eyes flicker back to me, swimming with so many emotions.
“But what they don’t see—what theyneversee—is what happens when the game ends.When the noise dies down. When you’re alone with your own head, and it’s louder than any arena you’ve ever played in.” His breath stutters, his lips pressing together.
Every cell in my body screams to touch him, knowing it’s not easy to show such strength and share about your past.
“I’ve stood in front of thousands of people, played through injuries, through exhaustion, through losses that felt like they carved something out of me. But none of it was ever as difficult as admitting…Iwasn’tokay.”
The crowd hangs onto his words, not wanting to miss a single one as Noah’s eyes take in the room, letting them see the truth in his eyes.
“I’ve had days when I didn’t recognize myself. Nights when my mind wouldn’t shut off. Mornings when I didn’t want to wake up.” Surprised gasps flood the room at his words, shock coloring people’s faces, even his own teammates’.
“I didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want anyone to find out just how fucked up I was. But the thing is, ignoring it doesn’t make it go away. It only makes it worse. Makesyouworse. It makes you push away the people you love in your life,it makes you lose them.”
His eyes swivel back to me, a sheen coating them, same as mine.
“It gets to a point where you start to believe the monster in your mind, start to drown and lose yourself.” He licks his dry lips. “I believed it, too. I didn’t think I deserved help. I believed my mind when it said the world would be a better place without me.”
A sob catches in my throat, my hand covering my mouth to hold it in. But the tears flow unrelentingly.
Not just mine. But almost every person in attendance is crying.
Kaeli brings her chair closer to mine on the circular table, rubbing my shoulder to comfort me.
Even the guys on the team are hiding their tears.
“But someone showed me, I did.” His eyes firmer now, going back to the crowd. “And so do you. Every single one of you sitting here tonight.”
Noah straightens, squaring his shoulders—not like a player preparing for impact, but like a man choosing to stand in his truth.
“We talk about physical injuries all the time in sports. We rehab them and treat them. We respect them.” His gaze sweeps over to his teammates. “But mental health? We treat it like a weakness. Like something to hide.”
He pauses, letting everyone reflect on it.