Page 157 of The Wrong Play

She grinned, completely unbothered. “You don’t wear your underwear, so someone has to. And besides, your underwear is comfy.”

“Chili iscomfy.”

Matty groaned. “It’s too early for this.”

Riley shook her head and padded toward the cabinets, muttering, “I will be opting for cereal.”

I smirked. “Your loss, sweetheart.”

Matty snorted, and I narrowed my eyes at both of them.

Betrayal.

Absolute betrayal in my own kitchen.

But fine. More chili for me.

CHAPTER 28

RILEY

The campus library was nearly empty on a Saturday morning, but that was exactly why I’d chosen it. Tucked away in the farthest corner, I curled into my chair, trying to drown in the pages of my textbook. My coffee had gone cold an hour ago, my notes sat untouched, and the clock on my laptop inched farther and farther away from ten—the time I was supposed to be at my first tutoring session with Callum.

I hadn’t gone. I wasn’t going to go.

He could manipulate the university all he wanted, twist reality in whatever way suited him best, but I wasn’t going to sit in a room with him and play his games. He wanted control? Let him fume over the fact that I refused to show up.

I’d also decided I was going to tell Jace. He’d had to spend the night at a hotel with the team in preparation for the game tonight, but I was going to tell him tomorrow.

And accept whatever came after that.

I exhaled slowly, unclenching my fingers from where they’d been digging into my palm. Maybe this would be it. Callum would realize he wasn’t going to win, and we could both move on…

Maybe…

A cluster of students walked past my table, their voices breaking through my focus. At first, it was just background noise, muffled murmurs about the upcoming game, last night’s party, a test they were all dreading. I tuned it out, forcing my attention back to the open book in front of me.

And then, I heard it.

“She was obsessed with him.”

The words slammed into me like a physical blow. My breath caught, fingers tightening around my pen as my ears zeroed in on the hushed conversation happening just a few feet away.

“Like, full-on stalker mode,” a redhead from one of my classes, who always had a designer handbag and an ever-present smirk, whispered. “He told me she wouldn’t leave him alone. It was bad.”

My stomach flipped.

“Wait, Riley St. James? The one that’s dating Jace Thatcher?” A guy scoffed, his voice laced with disbelief. “She doesn’t seem like the type.”

The girl let out a huff, like she was annoyed he wasn’t buying it outright. “That’s how people like her get you. She seems normal, but he said she used to show up at his house, uninvited. Sent letters, emails—threatened to hurt herself when he wouldn’t give her what she wanted. He had to let her down gently because she was so unstable.”

The air around me turned razor-sharp, slicing into my skin. My hands went numb, my pulse roaring in my ears as my mind fought to keep up.

No. No, no, no.

Callum.

Of course, it was Callum.

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