The Wrong Play: A Football Romance (The Wrong Player Series Book 2)
The Wrong Play: Chapter 13

The ball cut through the crisp night air, spiraling perfectly as it came down toward me.

I tracked it effortlessly, the lights burning overhead, the roar of the empty field like a promise of what was coming. My fingers closed around the leather, the impact reverberating up my arms as I pulled it in and took off, juking past an imaginary defender before turning back and tossing the ball to Matty.

“Damn, you’re locked in today,” Matty called, shaking his head as he caught my pass.

I grinned, jogging back to the line of scrimmage. “Gotta be ready for Saturday, Matthew.”

“Yeah, but usually by the end of practice you’re coasting,” Parker muttered, stepping up beside me. He pushed his helmet back, eyeing me like I was a puzzle he hadn’t quite solved. “What’s wrong with you?”

Matty scoffed. “Riley’s probably avoiding him again.”

I wrinkled my nose, thinking it was probably too unhinged that I didn’t like him even saying her name.

Parker raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, that’s probably it.”

Matty shot me a smirk, one that quickly faded when I nodded my head to the silver car in the parking lot where his stalker was watching practice. Like usual.

I dropped into my stance as the coach barked out another play, and I didn’t deign to answer them until I’d caught another pass.

“She’s not ignoring me,” I said. “She just…didn’t want to spend the night tonight.”

Both of them nodded, like that was the same thing.

“She slept over last night, though,” Matty said slowly.

Parker scoffed, shaking his head. Because he understood. Matty hadn’t been infected yet. He hadn’t gotten that hit of feeling what it was like to hold the person you were obsessed with in your arms.

He wasn’t understanding that I might not be able to sleep until I was snuggling with my Riley-girl again.

Which would be a problem. Because I needed my beauty sleep.

I might have been killing it tonight, but that was only because of my raw talent. My head was filled with her.

The way her breath hitched when I touched her. The way she looked at me like she wanted to run—but couldn’t bring herself to do it. The way she fit against me, like she belonged there.

I ran the next route at full speed, snatching the ball from the air before my feet even hit the turf. My blood was already buzzing, my pulse thrumming in time with the need crawling up my spine.

I had to be with her tonight.

Practice finally wrapped, and I didn’t even wait for the huddle to break before I was yanking off my helmet and turning to Matty.

“I need you to help me with something.”

Matty groaned. “Fucking hell, not again.”

I ignored him, slinging my helmet under my arm and wiping the sweat off my forehead. “She’s probably at the library right now.”

Parker rolled his eyes. “And how would you know that?”

I grinned, thinking of the tracking app on her phone. “Not telling.”

Matty barked out a sound that was a cross between a dying cow and a moose. “You’re a psycho, Thatcher.”

I shrugged. “So? Are you helping me or not?”

“Why can’t I help?” Parker said, practically pouting.

I gave him a thumbs up because that was the energy I was looking for. “Because I need someone single for my plan,” I told him, nodding my head at Matty.

Matty sighed dramatically, like this was such a hardship for him, fulfilling his best friendship duties. “Fine. I haven’t recovered from the last time I helped you. But what’s the plan?”

I was already walking off the field, eager to get back to my locker so I could replace out where Riley was right now. “We’re gonna make sure I see Riley tonight. Whether she likes it or not.”

Matty snorted. “Yeah, because that doesn’t sound like stalking.”

I just smirked.

It wasn’t stalking if she wanted me there.

Even if she didn’t know it yet.

Sneaking into Riley’s room required two things: precision and a sucker.

Fortunately, I had Matty, and a very precise, three-step plan. One that definitely showcased my big brain.

Step one: Get him to entertain her creepy-ass roommate.

Step two: Slip into Riley’s room unnoticed.

Step three: Sleep under her bed like a psycho, as nature intended.

We got into the locker room, and I gave a little fist pump when I checked my phone and saw that I’d been right, Riley was in the library.

“All right, here’s the deal. Riley’s roommate only leaves her room for class. So, I need you to distract her.”

Matty’s lips curled up in suspicion. Probably thinking of the Darla Pinswallow situation. This was going to be a piece of cake compared to that.

Probably.

Maybe.

“Distract her how, exactly?” he asked.

I slung an arm over his shoulders, noting my superiority because out of the three of us, I was the only one who didn’t stink right now. “I don’t know, Matty. How do you usually get girls?” I asked sarcastically. “Talk to her, charm her, maybe ask about her hobbies…” I rolled my eyes, because seriously, this shouldn’t be too hard for him.

“What if her hobby is murder?” Parker asked. I paused at that thought before waving him off.

“Then this is a great opportunity for personal growth,” I finally answered.

Matty snarled and shook off my arm. “You are the worst.”

I smirked as I headed toward the shower, eager to get out of here and into Riley’s room.

I was waiting down the hall from Riley’s room, and Matty was not here. Instead, he was freaking out somewhere, frantically texting me, and wasting precious time.

I checked my app again, making sure Riley was still in the library. She was still there, but she’d been acting very tired when I dropped her off this morning. So, she probably would be heading to her room any time now. He needed to get his ass moving.

Matty was a lot of things—nosy, annoyingly good at video games…a worry wart of the highest order—but one thing I’d never truly appreciated was his ability to charm a woman. The man actually had game.

From my position down the hall, hidden in the shadows like the world’s hottest criminal, I watched as he strolled up to Riley’s room, knocked twice, and leaned into the doorframe, displaying a confidence that made me a little hot as a matter of fact.

The door swung open, revealing her.

Emma.

The roommate. A little creepier than I’d anticipated, but we couldn’t control what happened to us. Only how we reacted to it.

Or at least that’s what I would be advising Matty on later.

I braced myself, fully expecting Matty to choke, to panic, to possibly scream. But no. The man did something incredible.

He smiled. Tilted his head just so. Dropped his voice to the kind of murmur that probably had the freshman girls sighing into their overpriced lattes.

I actually felt proud. Look at him go. Matty, in the wild, putting on a clinic in wingmanning.

Emma blinked up at him, her expression blank.

Then, after he said something I couldn’t hear, and a long pause in which I held my breath the entire time…she stepped out of the room.

Matty walked her down the hall, and I decided he’d just moved up in the friendship rankings. Per se, of course.

Mission. Freaking. Accomplished.

As they got closer to where I was hiding out, I noticed Emma was a little…off.

Not in the usual freshman girl trying too hard kind of way. Not even in the sorority girl who thinks she’s better than you kind of way. No, Emma moved like she was floating just slightly above the ground, like her feet barely touched it, like she wasn’t quite tethered to this plane of existence.

But it was her face that made the back of my neck itch.

Her eyes were wrong. Wide. Too wide—pupils dilated like she’d just crawled out of a sensory deprivation tank and hadn’t yet adjusted to reality. She didn’t blink. Not once. She just…stared. Right at Matty’s ear. Not his face. Not his body. His ear.

Matty, to his credit, looked like he was holding back the kind of full-body shudder you get when a bug skitters across your skin.

I could see it all over him. The way his face had gone pale. The way his movements were stiff, almost robotic, like he had just survived some kind of horror movie encounter and wasn’t fully processing it yet.

A man above men right there.

He pulled out his phone, and a second later, I got a text.

All right, well, not ideal. But if he could manage Darla, he could manage this chick…hopefully.

I grinned, watching as they passed before I slipped around the corner toward Riley’s door.

I thought the middle finger emoji he sent back was a little dramatic, but we couldn’t all be patient kings.

Sliding the key from my pocket—the one I’d borrowed long enough to make a copy—I opened Riley’s door.

Slipping into her room was the easy part. The harder part was not laughing at Matty’s suffering in real time. I eased the door shut behind me and took in her room. It was easy to know which side was hers, she didn’t have a creepy poster on the wall of my worst enemy—a certain red-haired clown. I shivered, resisting the urge to tear it off the wall.

Moving closer, I took in the small things that made it hers—the faint scent of vanilla in the air, the books stacked neatly on her desk, the sweater draped over the chair that I had seen her wearing just days ago.

On her desk, a hair tie sat next to her laptop. I picked it up, running my fingers over the soft fabric before slipping it onto my wrist. It was warm from the sun streaming through the window, but I imagined it was warm from her.

Her dresser was next. I opened the top drawer and nearly groaned. Lace, silk, delicate fabrics in muted colors—things that clung to her body, things I had imagined peeling off her. I reached in and pulled out a pair, pressing it to my nose and inhaling deep. The scent of her made my head spin, and before I could second-guess myself, I slipped them into my pocket.

Then I moved to her desk, pulling open the drawers one by one. Pens, notebooks, folded letters I didn’t dare open. And then—a photograph.

A man I didn’t recognize. His face half-shadowed, his expression unreadable. But it wasn’t the picture itself that caught my breath—it was the thick, red letters scrawled over it. Remember.

I frowned, staring at it a second longer before slipping it into my pocket. Later, I would replace out who he was. Later, I would know why she had it.

My phone buzzed again.

I sighed, because really, I didn’t have time for this. I was still investigating.

I turned to the wall above her desk. If I was going to be in her space, I might as well take advantage of the opportunity. I reached into my jacket, pulling out the tiny camera I had brought. It was barely the size of a quarter, discreet enough that she would never notice. I affixed it in the corner of the wall, angled perfectly toward her bed.

Once it was in place, I stepped back, satisfied.

Checking my phone again, I saw that she was almost back to the dorm. Shit. I used her bathroom, knowing I wouldn’t be able to go for the rest of the night.

I was about to take a sip from her water she’d left on the desk when my phone buzzed again.

I grinned, crawling underneath Riley’s bed, settling in like I belonged there.

Another text.

I typed out a quick, you’re a hero—just to bolster his self-esteem.

That was dramatic. I happened to like my bed. Especially after Riley had slept in it last night.

I tucked my hands behind my head, feeling pretty damn accomplished. Mission success. Riley had no idea I was here, Matty was out there making a new spiritual connection, and all was right with the world.

Now, all I had to do was wait.

I had never been so fucking comfortable in my life.

Sure, I was lying flat on my back, crammed under Riley’s tiny bed like some deranged stalker, my shoulder wedged against a rogue notebook she must’ve kicked under here at some point. My legs barely fit, and if I shifted too much, I’d probably take out the bed frame altogether.

But I didn’t care.

Because I was going to be close to her.

I listened as the door finally creaked open, as her soft footsteps padded across the room. The rustling of her bag dropping to the floor. The sigh she let out—deep, tired. The sound of her kicking off her shoes, one hitting the wall near the desk, the other landing suspiciously close to my head.

I smirked.

Fucking perfect.

The bed dipped slightly as she sat on the edge, and I had to close my eyes, forcing myself to stay still. My entire body went tense at the realization that all I had to do was roll out from under this bed, and I could be touching her. My fingers curled into a fist against my chest.

You can do this, Jace. You’re a legend. Absolute iron discipline inside you.

Her soft hum filled the room as she moved around, getting ready for bed. The sound of a drawer opening. The rustling of clothes. A pause. A tiny sniffle.

My smirk dropped. What the fuck? I turned my head slightly, trying to gauge her movements.

She sniffled again, and the sound hit me straight in the fucking ribs. Was she…crying?

I clenched my jaw. I’d burn the world down before I let anything make her cry.

Then, the sound of a yawn.

I exhaled slowly, relaxing against the cold floor. Not crying. Just exhausted.

That, at least, I could fix.

She’d been putting on a brave face, but I needed to pay more attention to how much sleep she was getting. Everything I read had said she needed a lot of rest with her condition, and I’d been messing it all up.

Riley shuffled again, and I listened intently as she climbed onto the bed, the mattress shifting above me. I could picture it so fucking clearly—the way she’d be curled up, her dark blonde hair spilling over the pillow, the soft rise and fall of her breath as she started to drift off.

So close.

If I lifted my hand, I could press my palm to the underside of the mattress, directly beneath where she was laying.

I wanted to.

To touch her, even if she wouldn’t know.

Instead, I just listened. Memorized every tiny sound.

There was a long beat of silence, and then her breathing slowed…deepened. She let out a cute little sigh as she got comfortable.

She was asleep.

My chest fucking ached at how much I loved it, at how much I wanted this every single night.

At how much I’d do to make sure I got it.

I smirked to myself, adjusting slightly so I wasn’t crushing my arm under my body. Tomorrow.

And then⁠—

A barely-there moan, softer this time.

Okay…so she wasn’t actually asleep. I’d read that wrong.

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling against the floor beneath me. The sound was small, almost nothing. But I knew better. I knew her.

The mattress shifted again, and then there it was—the hushed intake of breath, the softest whimper.

My head tilted. My pulse roared in my ears.

Fuck.

She was touching herself.

Heat slammed through my chest, my throat, my gut. I bit down on my tongue, hard, trying to keep my own breath steady, but my control was slipping, fraying at the edges as I listened.

Another little sound. A breathy inhale that had my fists clenching, my cock going painfully hard beneath my jeans.

Did she know?

The thought sent a dark thrill through me. Was she thinking of me? Had she sensed me somehow? Had she noticed the missing things⁠—

Or was she just that desperate for it tonight?

She shifted again, and I imagined it. Her hand slipping lower, fingers dragging over the softest part of herself, teasing, pressing⁠—

My eyes squeezed shut, my control hanging by a fucking thread.

My cock ached, pulsing with every breath she took, every tiny sound that slipped past her lips.

I couldn’t stop myself. My hand was already working at my jeans, dragging the zipper down as silently as I could manage. My dick was thick and desperate, the tip already slick as I wrapped my fingers around it, hissing out a breath as I gave it a slow stroke.

Was she thinking about what my fingers could do? How they pushed inside her. How I always found that perfect spot that drove her crazy every time?

The air in the room changed. Grew heavier. Charged.

Her breath hitched again, sharper this time, and I imagined her fingers slipping lower, circling, pressing inside. My grip tightened as I matched her pace, my breath growing uneven. I bit down on my lip, hard, barely holding back a groan.

The bed creaked as she moved, a soft exhale spilling from her lips. The sound sent a violent shudder through me. I pumped faster, my entire body strung so fucking tight I thought I might snap.

Another moan—higher now, breathier, her movements growing urgent. Her breath hitched, and then, barely above a whisper, she moaned my name. “Jace…”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I kind of wanted to scream that I was here, but that would probably ruin the vibes. We’d have to talk about this moment later on. We’d probably both agree how hot this was.

I wasn’t going to last. It was a good thing I’d already proven how good my stamina was in previous encounters.

I clenched my teeth, my body going taut, burning with need as I worked myself harder, faster, my other hand trying to grip the floor like it might keep me from unraveling. But nothing could stop it now. Nothing could stop the way my body locked up, the white-hot pleasure that tore through me, so intense I saw spots behind my eyes.

I came harder than I ever had in my life, my body shaking as I spilled over my hand. My breath was ragged, my mind clouded with heat and hunger and something darker, something possessive.

Above me, the bed creaked one last time as she let out a soft, sated sigh.

I dragged in a shuddering breath, my cock still throbbing in my grip.

Fuck, that was hot.

A door slammed, and I jerked awake, disoriented, my heart thumping against my ribs.

For a second, I forgot where the hell I was.

Then I moved—bang—smacking my head against the damn frame of Riley’s bed. Right.

I’d fallen asleep. Under her fucking bed.

Like a fucking lunatic. My hand covered in dried cum.

In my defense, it had been an incredible night—an orgasm straight from the gods, Riley’s body above mine, her quiet, sleepy breaths in my ear as she drifted off. I’d planned on sneaking out before sunrise, but evidently my body had decided to sleep deeper than it ever had before.

I listened for movement, my ears straining for the sound of her breathing. But there was nothing.

Fuck. I’d been sleeping so deeply, I hadn’t even heard her getting ready for the day.

I let out a slow breath, waiting a few extra beats just in case my ears weren’t working. But the dorm stayed quiet, empty.

Carefully, I inched over, peering out from under the frame.

The coast was clear.

I slid out with practiced ease, rising to my feet and stretching out the stiffness in my muscles.

Her scent was still everywhere—wrapped around the sheets she’d just abandoned, clinging to the air. I inhaled deeply, letting it settle into my lungs, feeling it curl around my ribs like something that was attaching itself to my insides.

I stared at her bed, my fingers twitching with the need to take something from it.

Just a little piece of her.

Reaching down, I brushed my hand over her pillow, feeling the warmth still lingering from her skin. And before I could stop myself, I stripped the pillowcase off, bringing it to my nose, and taking a deep inhale.

Vanilla. A little bit of citrus. A hint of something deeper, something uniquely her.

Yeah. This would do.

I bunched it into my pocket, smoothing out the bed like nothing had happened.

Tonight, when I went to bed, I’d have her scent wrapped around me. A reminder of last night. A promise of what was to come.

The first of many things she’d bring to my house.

Even if she didn’t know it yet.