Page 51 of The Wrong Play

He didn’t say a word. He just leaned against the opposite wall, shirtless and grinning, his golden-blond hair still unnaturally perfect and flowy like I’d stepped into a shampoo commercial. His abs flexed with every easy, slow breath he took.

Ugh. How was it possible I was already taking in hits of his scent, like I was in one of my omegaverse books or something?

The elevator lurched.

I grabbed onto the railing, my stomach flipping as it gave another violent shudder—then stopped.

The lights flickered, and my heart shot straight into my throat.

No.No.No.This was not happening.Why the fuck hadn’t I used the stairs?

I turned, uselessly slamming my fingers against the buttons. “Lobby. Lobby.Lobby.”

Nothing.

“Oh, you’ve got to befuckingkidding me.”

A soft chuckle came from behind me, and I whipped around.

Jace was still leaning casually against the wall, a slow, lazy smirk tugging at his lips that made me want to kick him.

He lifted one shoulder in an infuriating half-shrug. “Looks like fate wants us to spend a little more time together, babycakes.”

I pressed my back against the opposite wall, very aware of how small the elevator was. How there was nowhere to go.

“This isn’t fate,” I muttered, willing my voice to sound steadier than I felt. “This is an old building with shitty maintenance.”

Jace shrugged. “You can believe that if it makes you feel better. It doesn’t make it true.”

My breath came faster as I pressed the emergency call button. Static crackled, followed by a distorted voice.

“Campus maintenance.”

“Hi,” I said, exhaling in relief. “The elevator in the bookstore is stuck. There’s two of us inside.”

“We’re aware of the issue. Techs are on their way.”

“How long?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

“Could be twenty minutes. Could be an hour.”

An hour?

The line cut off before I could demand a more specific timeframe. I turned back to Jace, who looked entirely too pleased about this development.

He was too big for this elevator. His presence filled every inch of it, swallowing up the air, making it impossible to not look at him. To not notice the sweat glistening on his skin. The ridges of his abs. How my name was painted on those abs. And the way his gray sweatpants satwaytoo low on his hips.

“An hour, huh?” His smirk deepened as he pushed off the wall.

I swallowed hard. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” His tone was all mock innocence. “All I’m doing is standing here. With you. In a tiny, enclosed space. Where no one can interrupt us.”

Jace tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was something to unravel. “Why do you keep running from me?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

He moved toward me, his movements slow, predatory. His long legs ate up the space between us, and I could do nothing but stand there, frozen, as he stopped just inches away.

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