Page 4 of The Wrong Play

Because I was.

I was pretending to be fine.

I was pretending I wasn’t hurt.

I was pretending I didn’t need someone to put their hands on me just to feel something other than this hollow ache.

And Callum? He knew.

The warmth of his hand spread through me, pulling me in like a slow, steady tide. I couldn’t think. I could only feel.

His thumb pressed against the base of my throat. A slow, lingering pause.

Like he was waiting. Like he was seeing if I’d stop him.

And I didn’t.

Because maybe I wanted to be wanted. Maybe I wanted to feel something, anything other than this ache.

Brandon had wanted me for awhile, but anyone would get tired of their girlfriend always needing to cancel plans because of their chronic exhaustion…or not being fun enough. And then he’d stopped wanting me.

And now Callum was here.

And maybe…maybe he wanted me.

His face dipped lower, his lips just a breath away. “I could make you forget him.”

The words coated my skin, sinking deep. The air thickened. I was breathless. Lost.

My pulse thrummed against my skin, erratic, frantic, like it didn’t know whether to flee or surrender.

“You’re beautiful,” Callum murmured, his eyes never leaving mine. Dark and unreadable, but steady—like he was completely confident in what he was doing.

“You always have been.”

Heat flushed down my spine, a foreign, disorienting sensation taking root in my chest.

No one had ever looked at me like this.

Like I was something to be devoured. Like I was something worth wanting.

My breath hitched as he lifted a hand, his knuckles grazing the side of my face, slow and deliberate. The touch was still light—so light that I felt it everywhere.

He wasn’t rushing. He was waiting. Waiting for me to let him in.

“Riley,” he murmured, his voice a low, hypnotic hum.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t do anything but stand there, trapped between the past I wanted to outrun and the man standing in front of me, offering something else.

But…this was wrong, right?

And he was old enough to be my dad.

I’d thought he was handsome, sure. But Callum had always been a fixture in our house, always there, a shadow in the background of my life. Reliable. Present. Not…this.

Not a man who looked at me like he saw something worth wanting.

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