Falling for my Brother’s Rival

Exposed

Noah’s Pov

I woke to the sound of my phone buzzing against the nightstand with a persistence that told me something was wrong before I even opened my eyes, and by the time I finally reached for it, the screen had already lit up with more notifications than I could process at once, texts from Ethan, missed calls from my publicist, and an alarming number of alerts from sports outlets I hadn’t even realized I followed.

I sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I unlocked the screen, and the first headline that greeted me sent a wave of ice through my chest that had nothing to do with the winter air seeping through my apartment windows.

HOCKEY’S BIGGEST RIVALS CONNECTED: NOAH STEELE SPOTTED WITH MASON BLAKE’S SISTER.

Beneath the headline sat a photograph I recognized instantly, one taken from what must have been a distance, grainy and slightly blurred, but unmistakable all the same, Sophia and me sitting close together at the café, my hand covering hers on the table exactly the way it had been when she told me about the baby.

My stomach dropped.

I scrolled further, and the situation only worsened, because it wasn’t just one photograph circulating across every sports platform in the country, it was an entire gallery, images clearly taken over several days, us walking together outside her apartment, us sitting in my car outside her building, moments I had believed were private now displayed for millions of strangers to dissect and speculate about.

Someone had been watching us. Someone had been watching us for a while.

Ethan called before I could even process the thought fully, and I answered on the second ring, his voice tight with barely controlled panic. “Please tell me you’ve seen this.”

“I’m looking at it right now.”

“This is a nightmare, Noah. My phone hasn’t stopped ringing since five this morning. Every outlet in the country wants a statement.”

“Don’t give them one yet.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid, but they’re not waiting for permission. They’re running with whatever theory sells the most clicks, and right now the theory is that you’re secretly involved with Mason Blake’s sister, which, considering the photographs, isn’t exactly wrong.”

I closed my eyes, pressing my palm against my forehead as the weight of the situation settled fully across my shoulders. Sophia hadn’t even told Mason yet. She had wanted time, wanted to find the right moment, wanted to control how this information reached him rather than having it explode across every screen in the city before either of us could prepare him for it.

Now that choice had been ripped away from both of us.

“I need to call Sophia,” I said, already swinging my legs off the bed.

“Noah, wait, there’s something else you should know before you do.”

Something in his tone made me pause. “What?”

“The photos weren’t leaked to just anyone. They went straight to three major outlets simultaneously, all at the exact same time, with a level of coordination that doesn’t scream random paparazzi. Someone orchestrated this deliberately.”

A chill settled over me that had nothing to do with the temperature of my apartment. “Orchestrated by who?”

“I don’t know yet. But whoever did this wanted maximum damage, and they wanted it timed perfectly to blindside both of you before you had any chance to control the narrative.”

I didn’t have time to dwell on the implications, because my phone buzzed again, this time with Sophia’s name flashing across the screen, and I answered immediately, my chest tightening at the sound of her voice, thin and shaking on the other end.

“Noah, have you seen—”

“I’ve seen it.”

“Mason is calling me. He’s called four times already. I don’t know what to say to him.”

“Don’t answer yet. Let me come to you first.”

“He’s going to find out regardless of what I do.”

“I know. But I’m not letting you face this alone, not after everything.” I was already pulling on a jacket, grabbing my keys, moving through my apartment with a singular focus that pushed every other thought aside. “I’m coming over right now.”

“Noah, the reporters, if they see your car outside my building—”

“I don’t care anymore.” The words came out fiercer than I intended, but I meant every syllable of them. “I’m done hiding this like it’s something shameful. You’re carrying my child. I’m not going to let a leaked photograph dictate how I show up for you.”

Silence stretched across the line, and when she finally spoke again, her voice had softened. “Okay.”

The drive to her apartment felt longer than it should have, every red light testing my patience, every glance in the rearview mirror confirming that at least two vehicles had been trailing me since I left my building, cameras undoubtedly ready the moment I stepped out.

I parked as close to her entrance as I could manage, ignoring the immediate flash of camera shutters as I climbed out, ignoring the shouted questions that followed me toward the door, focused entirely on getting to her.

Sophia opened the door before I even knocked, her eyes red-rimmed, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as though trying to hold everything together through sheer physical effort.

I pulled her into my arms without hesitation, and she sagged against me immediately, the tension in her shoulders finally breaking as several days of exhaustion and fear caught up with her all at once.

“Whatever happens next,” I murmured against her hair, “we face it together. I meant that yesterday, and I mean it even more now.”

Her phone buzzed again on the counter behind us, Mason’s name lighting up the screen for the fifth time, and over her shoulder I watched it ring out into silence, knowing full well that the confrontation waiting for both of us couldn’t be postponed much longer.