Page 192 of The Wrong Play

For so long, I had been convinced I wasn’t meant for this kind of love. The kind that was all-consuming, the kind that rooted deep and refused to be torn away. I had spent years feeling unworthy, like I was something temporary, like love was something I could borrow but never keep.

I’d grown up being treated like my illness made me less. Like my body’s failures meant I wasn’t meant for forever, that I was only good enough to be someone’s dirty secret.

But Jace never looked at me like I was fragile. He never hesitated. Never treated me like something that wasn’t worthy of adoration…or showing off.

He fought for me like I was worth everything. And now, he wasn’t just fighting.

He was asking me to stay.

It was a stark contrast—Jace, standing in front of me, fierce and unwavering, like I was something to be protected, something to be fought for. And Callum.

Callum, who had only ever fought to keep me small. Hidden. His dirty little secret.

I thought about the reports that had come out after his arrest, the students from Chapel Hill who had stepped forward with their own stories. Girls who had once stood in my shoes, who had believed his lies, who had felt just as powerless in his grasp. He hadn’t just done this to me. He had been doing it for years. The weight of that made my stomach churn.

I forced myself to meet Jace’s gaze, the raw intensity in his brown eyes grounding me. Callum had spent years convincing me that I wasn’t enough—that I was weak, that I was lucky he even wanted me. But Jace? He made me feel like I was everything.

My chest ached as I reached up, tracing my fingers along the edge of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath my touch. He didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, just let me look at him, let me absorb the weight of what he was offering.

Forever.

With him.

The world was so loud—always pulling, always demanding—but in that moment, it was just us. Just Jace, waiting for me to say the words that would make this real.

“Are you sure this isn’t the wrong play, Thatcher?” I asked, a smile spreading across my lips.

He huffed. “Do I ever make the wrong play?”

My smile widened, joy bubbling up inside me.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His lips twitched. “What was that?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and nodded. “Yes.”

Jace exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around me, like he’d been holding his breath. And then he was kissing me, like he was sealing a deal that had already been made long before either of us admitted it.

I let him.

I kissed him back like I had nowhere else to be, like I had finally figured out the truth that had been clawing at my ribs since the moment he walked into my life.

Jace Thatcher wasn’t a wrong turn.

He wasn’t a mistake.

He wasn’t some reckless impulse I would regret.

He was the safest place I had ever known.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of staying.

I pulled back, just enough to see the way his brown eyes burned with triumph. “You’re feeling pretty smug about this, aren’t you?” I murmured.

His lips curled. “Oh, absolutely.”

I huffed a laugh, rolling my eyes. “And what if I had said no?”

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