Page 80 of The Wrong Play

But I should’ve known better.Callum never let me avoid him for long.He liked to taunt me with her.He liked to put me in my place.Because he knew there was nothing I could do about it.

The party was winding down, and she had gone home when I felt it—that prickle on the back of my neck.I turned,and he was there.His tie was loosened. His eyes were dark.

“You’ve been avoiding me,”he murmured,stepping closer.

My heart pounded against my ribs.I forced a brittle smile. “You seemed occupied.”

His lips twitched.“Jealous?”

I scoffed,but the sound barely left my throat before his fingers were curling around my wrist,his grip firm.

“You know better than that,Riley.”

I hated how easily I let him pull me with him.

The hall was empty,the distant hum of the party fading as he tugged me into the closet under the stairs.The second the door shut,his hands were on me.

His fingers slid into my hair,tugging,forcing me to look at him.

His lips grazed my jaw. “You’ve been a little brat tonight.”

I swallowed hard.

Callum sighed, his patience razor-thin as he flicked his gaze over me. “You know why I have to be seen with her,Riley.No one would take me seriously if they knew the truth.I have to keep you tucked away because you’re not old enough,you’re not polished enough to stand beside me where it matters.”

He stepped closer,his voice dropping,cool and cutting. “So stop pouting.You know the deal.I do what I need to do,and you stay exactly where I put you.And right now?You can make it up to me for the attitude you’ve been throwing all night.”

His thumb traced my bottom lip.My breath hitched.

I knew what he wanted.

I knew what he expected.

And I knew I was going to hate myself even more…

But I sank to my knees anyway.

I blinked hard, the bonfire snapping me back, the heat of it licking at my face as Jace’s arm tugged me closer. He was the complete opposite of Callum. There didn’t seem to be any shame, any hesitation. It was just him, holding me tight, making sure every drunk idiot here knew I was his. He seemed so proud of that. Flaunting me, like I was everything.

His thumb brushed my shoulder again, a soft, absent touch that sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed, my throat thick with something I couldn’t name.

I didn’t say anything. My voice was stuck somewhere between my racing heart and the lump in my chest. Because deep down, in a quiet little corner I didn’t want to peek into, I liked it. I liked the way he said, “my girl” like it was a fact, I liked how his arm felt like a shield, I liked how he didn’t care who saw us. It was new, dizzying, and a little…terrifying.

Because what if this wasn’t real?

What if he found out who I really was…the girl Callum had seen…and changed his mind? My body was a tripwire that could go off at any minute. What if it did—and he decided he didn’t want to handle it?

We continued weaving through the crowd, his arm a steady weight around my shoulders, until we reached a giant black truck parked at the edge of the field. Its tailgate was down, flipped open like a makeshift stage, and a small group lounged around it—laughing, cups in hand, their voices loud over the music thumping from a speaker propped in the bed. I slowed as I took them in, trying to school my face so I didn’t look too freaked out, but Jace didn’t pause.

“No Drama Llamas,” he called, his voice cutting through their chatter, easy and confident as he pulled me in front of him, his hands sliding to my hips like he was presenting me. “This is my angel cakes, babylicious, most fantastical girl on the planet—my girlfriend Riley.”

My breath caught, a little hitch in my chest, and I froze, heat creeping up my neck. Girlfriend. He said it like it was carved in stone, and my eyes darted up to his face, feeling some kind of weird relief at how confident he looked when he said it. The group turned, heads swiveling, and I shrank a little under their stares, my fingers twisting the hem of my hoodie.

“I was beginning to think you made her up, Jace-face,” one guy said, stepping forward with a laugh.

Jace nudged me toward him, grinning wider. “Riley, this is Parker—our quarterback, resident big brain, and bestilicious number one.”

Parker was tall, matching Jace inch for inch, with broad shoulders that filled out his shirt like some kind of model and dark hair that fell in his face. His grin was all perfect teeth—and his blue eyes glinted as he reached out a hand toward me. “Hey, Riley. Heard a ton about you,” he said in a booming voice,smooth and deep, like he was born to command a room—or a field. Before I could even move, Jace swatted Parker’s hand away mid-air, a quick smack that made Parker laugh, low and easy.

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