Page 162 of The Wrong Play

Her breath hitched. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, like she was trying to keep herself from breaking apart.

Fuck that.

I reached for her, pulling her against me, arms locking around her, holding her tight against my chest.

She didn’t fight me.

Didn’t push me away.

She just…collapsed.

A soft, shattered sound escaped her throat as she buried her face in my chest, her hands clutching at my jersey, fingers twisting into the fabric like she needed something solid to hold onto.

I felt her shaking. Felt the way her body trembled against mine, the way her breath stuttered, uneven and ragged.

I wanted to demand answers.

Wanted to tilt her face up, make her look at me, make her tell me who the fuck had done this to her.

But I didn’t.

Not yet.

Instead, I just held her.

Held her like she was the most important thing in the world. Because she was.

And when she cried into my chest, silent and broken, I tightened my arms, pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and made a silent promise.

Whoever had done this?

Whoever had put that fear in her eyes?

They weren’t going to get away with it.

RILEY

I buried my face in Jace’s chest, my fingers fisting in the fabric of his jersey like I could somehow hold onto this moment—hold onto him—forever. His arms were wrapped around me, strong and unyielding, like nothing in the world could touch me as long as he was here. I could feel his heartbeat, steady and sure, against my cheek, feel the warmth of his breath in my hair as he pressed a kiss there.

But then…the roar hit.

It rumbled through the stadium like an earthquake, before surging into a deafening eruption of sound. The kind that sent energy crackling through the air, the kind that made the ground tremble beneath our feet. The kind that told me something big had just happened out there on the field.

I stiffened.

Jace felt it immediately, his grip on me tightening, like he knew exactly where my mind had just gone. But I wasn’t thinking about myself anymore. I wasn’t thinking about Callum or the weight of his threats pressing down on my chest like a vice.

I was thinking about Jace.

About the fact that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

I pushed back, my hands flattening against his chest, forcing space between us as I lifted my gaze to his. “Jace.” My voice came out hoarse, but I forced strength into it. “You need to get back out there. Right now.”

He hesitated. Conflict flickering in those sharp brown eyes, his jaw clenching.

“Go. You can’t be here. I’m—I’m fine.” I insisted, the lie tasting like ash on my tongue.

His expression hardened, his hands still firm on my waist. “I swear to everything, Riley,” he muttered, his voice low and edged with warning. “If you need me…”

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