Page 182 of The Wrong Play

His jaw clenched tight, but his eyes softened, filled with something deep and aching. “Yeah, Riley-girl. It’s over.”

I grabbed fistfuls of his hoodie, pulling him closer, burying my face against his chest. He was so warm, so solid, his arms wrapping around me, holding me together even as I was falling apart.

I felt his lips press against the top of my head, lingering, like a silent promise.

“You never have to be afraid of him again.”

A fresh wave of tears burned in my throat. “Jace?—”

His grip tightened. “Shh. You don’t have to say anything. I got you.”

I pulled back just enough to look at him, really look at him—the strong lines of his face, the way his hair was slightly damp from practice, the shadows under his eyes that told me he had barely slept.

Like he had been watching over me this whole time.

The realization hit me like a punch to the chest.

“Jace.” My voice trembled. “Did you?—”

His smirk was slow, smug, and infuriatingly beautiful.

“Did I what, baby?”

I sniffled, narrowing my eyes. “You know what I’m asking.”

He tangled his fingers in my hair, tilting my head back so I was trapped in his gaze.

And then…he smiled.

That dark, knowing, I-would-burn-the-world-down-for-you smile.

“I told you, didn’t I?” His voice was soft, almost teasing. “You’re mine. No one gets to touch what’s mine.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

“Jace.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips over mine, barely a whisper of contact, but it stole every bit of air from my lungs.

I could barely breathe, the heat of him, the sheer intensity of him swallowing me whole.

“Jace,” I whispered, my voice barely more than air, curling into him, drawn to him like gravity itself. “I don’t know how to do this without you.”

His chuckle was low and rough, his grip tightening on my hips as he pulled me flush against him. “Good thing you don’t have to.”

I stared up at him, that strange lightness spreading. “You always—” My throat tightened, emotion clawing its way up. “You always take care of me.”

“Damn right, I do,” he murmured, his breath warm against my lips, his eyes dark with something fierce and unshakable.

A half-laugh, half-sob tumbled from my lips. “You can’t just…just erase everything bad in my life.”

His smirk deepened, wicked and sure. “Watch me.”

And then, his lips crashed into mine.

No warning. No hesitation. Just heat, raw, all-consuming, mind-destroying, world-ending heat.

I gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, his fingers digging into my waist, pressing me back against the wall like he wanted to sink into my bones, like he wanted to mark me from the inside out.

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