Page 97 of The Wrong Play

I snorted and opened my mouth to tell him, of course, it wasn’t worse than iced milk, it was true love—when Coach’s booming voice echoed through the weight room. “Why the hell are all of you sitting around gossiping like sorority girls instead of lifting? You think the SEC is gonna roll over for you just ’cause you’re funny?”

Matty let out a strangled noise, probably over the fact that Coach didn’t seem to think his night with a demon was more important than working out.

Coach narrowed his eyes at the sound, because somehow he had ears like a bat—literally and figuratively. “You know what you need, Adler? Shuttle runs. Fifty of them. Now.”

Matty let out another weird noise and a “motherfucker” and headed toward the door, only looking back to do that thing where you point at your eyes with two fingers and then point at the other person—me.

I huffed and turned back to my workout because, honestly, I wasn’t the one who had failed in my duties.

And then, I promptly turned my attention to what I was going to do to get Riley out of her dorm and safe at my place.

“What’s that look?” Parker grunted as he started squats.

I just grinned at him. Because out of the three of us, he knew best what that look meant.

It meant I was going to win.

CHAPTER 15

RILEY

Istood in front of my closet; the door creaked open wider than my resolve, my hands hovering over hangers like I couldwillthe perfect outfit to jump out at me. Jace’s game was in an hour, and Casey and Natalie were meeting me there, which felt life-saving, because the thought of sitting alone in that massive stadium made my stomach twist into a nervous little knot.

But what was I supposed to wear? Jace seemed to think I was hot no matter what I was wearing—case in point, my hoodie at the bonfire. But I kind of wanted to dress cute for once. The only UT apparel I had was from freshman orientation, and it was three sizes too big and fit like a tent. I chewed my lip, shaking my head as I reached out to grab it anyway.

Then I saw it…tucked between my cardigan and a pair of leggings, hanging there bold and smug like it owned the place. Jace’s jersey. Orange and white, oversized, his number 77 stitched in block letters, his last name—Thatcher—sprawled across the back in a way that felt like a claim I hadn’t agreed to yet.

I blinked, my hand freezing mid-reach, and I let out a soft, exasperated huff, rolling my eyes so hard I almost saw stars.

How did he even get it in here?

I hadn’t seen him since yesterday, when he’d dropped me off after class with that stupid, perfect grin, and Idefinitelyhadn’t invited him to sneak into my dorm and play wardrobe fairy.

But there it was, staring me down, and I couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at my lips, the way my heart did a quick, fluttery skip despite myself. Jace Thatcher had a way of worming into my life, and I was starting to just…accept it.

I pulled it off the hanger and held it up, my nose wrinkling as I debated. It smelled faintly of him—pine, sexy musk, that warm Jace-ness that made my cheeks heat—and I sighed, tossing it onto my bed. Fine. I’d wear it. Not because he’d planted it here. Okay, maybe a little because of that…but because it was easy, and maybe it would be alright to…give in for once.

I tugged it on over a white tank top, paired it with my favorite jeans, and yanked my fingers through the waves in my hair as I glanced in the mirror. The jersey swallowed me, the sleeves dangling past my elbows, his name huge across my shoulders, but…it looked cute.

I rolled my eyes again, muttering, “You win this one, Thatcher,” under my breath.

A sudden knock rattled my door, and I jumped.

“Riley! Open up, woman!” Natalie’s voice burst through, loud and bright, followed by a softer, “C’mon, we’re on a mission.” That had to be Casey. I lifted an eyebrow. I was supposed to meet them at the stadium, had I mixed up the plan? Hurrying over, I flipped the lock, and the door swung open to reveal Natalie bouncing on her toes, her blonde hair a wild halo, orange streaks painted on her cheeks like war stripes. Casey leaned against the frame dressed in aParker Davisjersey, hands in her pockets, her silver eyes calm but tinged with that quiet solemnness I’d noticed at the tailgate party.

“Hi? I thought we were meeting at the game?” I asked.

“Change of plans!” Natalie chirped, shoving past me into the room, her energy filling the tiny space like a glitter bomb. She spun around, hands on her hips, and grinned at Jace’s jersey. “Oh my gosh, yes! Look at you, rocking the Thatcher vibe! He’s gonna lose his mind when he sees this.”

Casey stepped in slower, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Jace told us to come get you,” she said.

Natalie made quotation signs with her hands. “He said to make sure hislove muffinshowed up at all costs. His words, not mine, obviously. I would have usedsexy beastor something much better thanlove muffin.”

Casey snorted, grinning at Nat.

I blinked, a flush creeping up my neck. “He—what?” I squeaked, my hands fidgeting with the jersey’s hem. “I was already going!”

“Psh, he wasn’t taking chances,” Natalie cut in, flopping onto my bed like she owned it, her legs kicking in the air. “He’s, like, obsessed with you, Ri. He told us yesterday after practice—” Her voice dropped into a low growl that sounded nothing like Jace. “‘Get her there. I don’t care how, just do it.’ So, here we are!” She grinned, wild and unapologetic, and I couldn’t help the tiny laugh that slipped out, even as my stomach did a wild flip.

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