Page 126 of The Wrong Play

It was already full.

My steps slowed as I took it in.

I stopped cold. “Jace.”

He turned, looking at me with that lazy, infuriating confidence, like he knew exactly what had me gaping. “Yeah?”

I lifted my hand, pointing toward the dresser. “Is that?—”

“Your drawer?” He finished for me, strolling over to pull it farther open. Inside were things thatshould not be there. My favorite brand of socks. A sleep shirt that looked suspiciously like it was my size. Even the same type of hairbrush I used.

I moved to the closet next, opening the door, my stomach tightening when I saw hangers. Empty space. Room for me.

His bathroom? My shampoo. My conditioner. My brand of body wash.

I turned slowly, my pulse a steady drumbeat in my ears. “Jace.”

He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “Riley.”

I swallowed. “What the hell is all this?”

He pushed off the frame, walking toward me, every step deliberate. When he stopped in front of me, he tilted his head as if he was amused I’d even asked.

“I like to be prepared.” His voice was smooth, just the right mix of teasing and something darker. “And this? Was always going to happen.”

A shiver ran across my skin, and I wasn’t sure if it was from his voice, his presence, or the sheer weight of what he had just said.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Then finally managed, “I can’t decide if this is the creepiest thing anyone has ever done for me or?—”

Jace cut me off before I could finish. “Charming.”

I narrowed my eyes. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Sure it was.” His lips twitched. “Riley-girl, you wouldn’t be standing here if you didn’t like it.”

I made a sound that was dangerously close to ascoff, even as I was very aware that he was right. “That’s a bold assumption. This is only until I can find another place.”

His grin sharpened. “I don’t assume.”

There it was. The thing that set Jace apart from every other guy I had ever met. It wasn’t just confidence—it was certainty. He pursued me with the same single-minded focus he probably used in a game. No hesitation. No doubt.

I stepped back because I needed space. He let me, but there was something in his gaze that saidonly for now.

I swallowed, then turned abruptly, heading back toward the living room because I needed to be anywhere else before I did something stupid.

Matty was still on the couch, halfway through his bag of chips, completely oblivious to the emotional warfare I had just endured.

He glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “You good?”

I sat down hard, grabbing a handful of his chips and stuffing them into my mouth before answering. “No.”

Jace strolled in like he owned the place—because, well, he did—and dropped onto the couch next to me, throwing an arm over the back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Matty chewed thoughtfully. “You look like someone who just realized they’re in over their head.”

I pointed at him. “Exactly.”

Jace made a dismissive noise, reaching over to pluck one of Matty’s chips out of the bag. “She’s fine.”

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