The car ride was quiet after Jayden's confession. By the time they reached the hotel, it was already 2:30. Ben parked and gave Jayden a knowing look in the rearview mirror before excusing himself.
Jayden and Emma rode the elevator up together, his hand heavy in hers as the silence between them grew louder.
Inside the room, Jayden tossed his duffel bag to the floor and sank onto the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, face buried in his palms. For a long moment, he didn't move.
"Jayden," Emma said softly, reaching for his hand.
He didn't look up. His shoulders trembled once before his voice broke. "I hate that I had to see him today, Emma. I hate that after all these years, he still has this hold on me. I thought I buried him, buried everything he did to us... but the moment I saw him, it all came back."
Emma's chest ached. She slid closer, wrapping her arms around him. "You're not that boy anymore. You survived him. You built a life for yourself, Jayden. One he'll never get to take credit for."
Finally, Jayden lifted his head. His eyes were raw and red, but inside them was the fire Emma saw when he was arguing with his dad. Anger, pain, but also resilience.
"Do you have any idea how glad I am that you're here today?" he whispered.
Her throat tightened, but she managed a small smile. "That's why I came."
For a minute, they just stared at each other, the silence filled with the sound of their own hearts. Then Jayden leaned in and kissed her. At first, it was soft, almost hesitant, but when Emma cupped his face, it deepened, carrying all the emotions he couldn't put into words.
His hands found her waist, pulling her onto his lap. His heart raced. Not because of the match, not because of the fight with his father, but because of her.
When they finally pulled apart, Emma rested her forehead against his, breathless.
"You're not him, Jayden. And you never will be. You're the man who fought for his family... who carried them when you were still just a kid yourself."
Something inside Jayden softened. He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the moment. For the first time in years, he felt like his past didn't define him anymore.
"I want you," he murmured against her lips.
"I'm right here," she whispered with a smile.
"No, Emma..." He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. His voice was low, vulnerable, and steady. "I mean it. I want to make love to you. I want you."
Emma froze, her breath caught in her throat, staring at him in stunned silence.
"Jayden..." she whispered, her lips parting, unsure if he truly meant it.
"I mean it," he said again, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. "Not just because I'm hurting. Not because I'm angry. But because when I'm with you, Emma, it feels like I finally have something good... something pure."
"Jayden..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"If you're not ready, I'll wait," he said softly, his thumb brushing over her hand. "I just... I need you to know how much you mean to me."
Her heart hammered in her chest. She studied his face, the same face she had seen during the fight with his dad, fierce and determined, now open and vulnerable only for her.
Emma swallowed, her lips trembling into a smile. "I want you too."
Something unspoken passed between them, a quiet surrender. Jayden exhaled, relief and desire mixing in his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss her again.
This kiss was different. It was slower, deeper, but charged. Emma clung to him, her fingers threading through his hair as his hands slid gently along her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.
He laid her gently against the bed, pausing only to look at her, as if memorizing every detail, the curve of her lips, the nervous flutter of her lashes, the way her chest rose and fell.
"Are you sure?" he asked again, his forehead pressed against hers.
Emma nodded, whispering, "I've never been more sure."
Their lips met once more, and the world outside seemed to fade. The stadium, the pressure, the pain, even his father's shadow. There was only Emma, her warmth, her steady heartbeat against his.
Every touch was unhurried, tender, like they were learning each other all over again. Her breath hitched when his lips left hers to travel down her neck, sucking and teasing until she let out a soft gasp. He traced her collarbone with his mouth, his hand sliding under the hem of his shirt that draped over her frame.
"Jayden..." she whispered, almost breathless, her voice caught somewhere between hesitation and need.
He paused just enough to look into her eyes, giving her that steady, burning look again.... trust me.
Her response was wordless. She pulled him down into another kiss, deeper this time, and her body arched willingly against his.
Emma laid back on the bed totally naked, her heart racing as Jayden hovered close, his hand steady at her waist. She could feel the tension in him, not from hesitation, but from his effort to be gentle with her.
"It won't work if you keep pulling away," he whispered softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. His tone was patient, but his eyes begged her to let him.
Emma's breath hitched. She wanted to give in completely, but nerves had her moving back each time. Jayden held her still, not with force, but with reassurance. His other hand pressed against the bed for balance.
"Just... close your eyes," he murmured. "Trust me. I'll be gentle."
Emma obeyed, shutting her eyes, letting herself feel instead of think. She gripped his arm as he leaned in, whispering, "I promise to be gentle."
Jayden tried his best to go in as gently and calmly as he could. The moment his entire length was inside of her, he relaxed falling on her.
"I'm in ..." He whispered
When she finally opened her eyes, Jayden was staring at her. His gaze wasn't filled with hunger or conquest, it was something deeper. She couldn't tell if it was love yet, but she prayed it was.
"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly, his voice raw with concern.
Emma shook her head, her lips trembling into a small smile. Relief washed over him. He leaned closer, pressing his forehead to hers.
"If it ever does... just tell me," he whispered as he started moving his hip out and then pushed right back in "I'll stop."
She nodded, her chest rising and falling quickly, and for the first time she realized this wasn't just about desire. It was about trust and her choosing to be vulnerable... with him.
Jayden's movements were slow and deliberate, just enough to let her body adjust and let the heat build between them. Every time his skin brushed against hers, Emma's breath hitched, and he drank in every sound, every tremble, as if it were fuel for him.
Her hands gripped his shoulders, tightening whenever a wave of sensation rushed through her. She tried to stifle her moans, but the soft sounds escaped anyway, betraying the painful pleasure she was trying so hard to contain.
Jayden pressed his forehead against hers, his breath heavy, his lips brushing against her cheek as he whispered, "You feel incredible..." His voice was low, almost strained, like he was barely holding himself back.
His hand slid along her thigh, gripping her gently but firmly as his rhythm grew steadier. The warmth of her body, the way she yielded to his touch, was almost too much for him. Yet he forced himself to pace it, to draw it out and to let the anticipation build rather than rush to the finish.
She could feel herself melting into him, her restraint slipping with every motion.
When his lips found hers again, the kiss was different—hotter, hungrier, desperate. Their mouths moved in sync, gasps and sighs mingling as their bodies pressed tighter together.
The room was quiet except for their breaths, their whispers, and the rhythm they were locked into. Every movement seemed to pull them deeper into each other, as though time outside that bed no longer existed.
Jayden's eyes caught hers again, dark with desire but steady with reassurance. It wasn't just lust in that look—it was a silent promise.