Steam and Silence

The water hit Noah’s shoulders. Heat and release all in one.

The locker room was quiet, just the distant hum of the arena beyond the walls. Practice was done. The team had gone out. He’d earned the silence, earned the ache in his arms, earned the sweat he was washing off.

He stripped off his shorts and stepped into the showers, letting the hot water rinse the sweat from his body. It rushed over his chest, down the ridges of his abs, coiling around the muscles in his thighs. He washed quickly, efficiently, steam curling up around him as his thoughts settled into a blank haze.

Rinsed, he stepped out. Towel slung low around his hips, as he headed to the steam room.

It was dimly lit, quiet, and stunning. The kind of luxurious facility that belonged in a five-star hotel, not a hockey arena. Stone benches, ambient lighting, and the scent of eucalyptus clinging to every surface.

Noah abandoned the towel, let the heat hit him full-force, and sat.

His body was still warm from the shower, his legs stretched out, arms relaxed at his sides. He closed his eyes, just breathing. Letting the day slide off his skin.

Until the door hissed open.

He didn’t have to look.

He knew.

Sterling Belmont stepped in like something conjured out of smoke and shadow.

Noah's eyes flicked open, and for a second—just one second—they dipped.

And he saw him.

Naked. Golden skin kissed by steam, every line carved, from shoulders to thighs. His cock hung between his legs, thick and heavy. The steam didn’t blur him, it only made him glow.

Then Sterling’s gaze shifted.

And landed on Noah.

His eyes jerked up too fast, his chest tight, blood pulsing behind his ears. He tried to pretend it hadn’t happened, that he hadn’t looked where he shouldn't have.

But Sterling saw it.

There was the smallest twitch at the corner of the man's mouth, not quite a smirk, not quite surprise—just knowledge. That sharp, knowing glint that said I caught that.

He said nothing, just stepped closer and took the open seat opposite him. Close enough that every drop of sweat on their bare thighs was suddenly noticeable. 

The silence between them was molten.

Sterling exhaled long and slow, his scent curling through the air. Spice, smoke, and something maddeningly masculine that settled deep in Noah’s chest.

His cock jolted to attention as he tried to fend off an embarrassing hard-on.

He was failing.

“You’re very impressive,” Sterling said at last, voice low and smooth, curling through the steam. “You work harder than the others. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Noah swallowed. “Thank you.”

He was used to praise. From coaches, scouts, fans. But not like this. Not with this undercurrent of interest that made him feel pinned, exposed. Belmont’s voice was a wire wrapped around his nerves.

Sterling leaned back slightly, tilting his face to the dark ceiling. “You have the potential to be a star.”

Noah nodded, unsure what to say. He was still trying to act normal, still trying to will his body into cooperation. Still losing.

Then those eyes found him again. Deep, cutting. "It’s common knowledge that you were offered an obscene contract with the Blackmoor Vultures," Sterling said, his voice like silk laced with suspicion. "They didn’t just offer it—they made sure everyone knew. It was a media circus. And no matter how impressive your college performance, no graduate with zero pro experience is worth that kind of money." He leaned in, eyes narrowing. "Yet you asked to come here?”

Noah let out a small breath. Of course he knew. “Yeah. They offered a lot. But I wanted to be here.”

Sterling arched a dark eyebrow. “Family, right?”

Noah hesitated. “Yeah.”

But Sterling’s eyes sharpened, and something cold threaded through the heat.

“But that’s not true, is it.”

Noah blinked. A beat passed.

Sterling leaned back slowly, one arm draped casually along the tile. The way he looked at Noah now wasn’t casual. It was calculated. Predatory.

“The background check revealed that you don’t have any family in Crestwick. In fact, no family in-state at all.”

The words sliced through the steam.

Sterling’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.

“So why would someone turn down nearly double their worth… unless they never turned it down at all?”

Noah tensed. “What are you saying?”

Sterling studied him, gaze sharp now. “Perhaps they offered you so much…because you were willing to spy on the competition.”

The accusation landed like a blow.

Noah sat up, jaw tightening. “You think I’m a spy?”

“I think,” Sterling said, voice smooth but cold, “you’ve already lied once. And no one—especially a twenty-two-year-old with no ties, no obligations, and nothing tethering him to one team—turns down millions without a reason… But you didn’t turn them down, did you Noah?”

The steam room felt smaller. Heavier.

Noah’s pulse thundered in his ears. He wanted to deny it. Wanted to stand up. Shout. Swear.

But all he could do was stare at the man across from him—powerful, unreadable, and still watching him with that gaze.

Like he already knew the answer.

He didn’t know what stunned him more—the accusation.

Or the fact that he still wanted to reach out and touch the man accusing him.