Page 191 of The Wrong Play

I exhaled, my chest easing for the first time since I’d slid that ring into her palm. “That’s all I needed to hear, baby.” I pulled back just enough to catch her gaze, my lips curving in a slow, knowing smirk. “Now, let’s get that ring on.”

Her breath hitched, but I didn’t miss the way her fingers curled even tighter around the velvet box like it was already hers. Like she knew it was inevitable. Like she had never really stood a chance.

Because she hadn’t.

She was already mine.

She always would be.

And now?

Now, the world would know it too.

She swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving mine. “You’re insane,” she repeated once more.

I nodded. “And you love me for it.”

She exhaled a laugh, choked and breathless.

I reached for her hand, prying the ID from her fingers, flipping it over in my palm. Riley Thatcher. My girl. My future.

Leaning in, my lips brushed against her ear, my voice low and sure. “Welcome to forever, baby.”

I pushed a stray piece of hair from her face, watching the way her lips parted, how her eyes were still wide and dazed from everything that had just happened. “Now, how do you feel about getting married in Vatican City?”

She blinked, still gripping the ring box like she wasn’t entirely sure this was real. “That’s…random.”

Then, like a light flickering on, amusement sparked in her gaze, her lips twitching as she tilted her head. “Wait a second. Isn’t that one of the only places where marriage contracts are binding…forever?”

I winked. “You catch on quick, Mrs. Thatcher.”

Her breath hitched, and she shook her head, but there was no fight in it, no hesitation—just that quiet, reluctant acceptance she always had when she realized I’d already made up my mind about something.

And I had.

This wasn’t just some impulsive, heat-of-the-moment decision. I’d known since the second I met her that Riley St. James was going to be mine. And now, holding her close, watching the way she swallowed hard like she was still trying to process it all, I could feel it—how much she wanted this, too, how much she wantedme, even if she wasn’t ready to say it out loud.

Yet.

I leaned in, my hands skimming down her back, pressing her flush against me. “Say yes, Riley-girl,” I murmured, my lips brushing against hers, coaxing, teasing. “You know you want to.”

Her forehead dropped to mine, her breath warm, her body soft and pliant in my arms. “Jace,” she whispered, like she was still trying to figure me out, still trying to convince herself this was happening.

I cupped her face, forcing her to look at me, making sure she saw everything I wasn’t saying out loud. “I love you, Riley,” Isaid, my voice rough, full of certainty. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, and I felt it then—the last of her resistance shattering.

I smirked. “Now, are we getting married in Vatican City or what?”

RILEY

I stared at him, at the boy who had spent every second since I met him making himself impossible to leave. Jace Thatcher, with his easy smirks and relentless determination, his infuriating confidence and unshakable certainty. The boy who had gotten under my skin so fast, so thoroughly, that I never even had a chance to stop him.

And now, here he was, standing in front of me, his hands on my waist, his eyes locked onto mine like I was the only thing that had ever made sense to him.

Like he was willing to bet his entire future on me.

A marriage proposal shouldn’t have felt inevitable when you were this young. It shouldn’t have felt like the next logical step in a series of moments I had already surrendered to. But Jace wasn’t normal. He wasn’t predictable. And when it came to him, I couldn’t resist.

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