The Wrong Play: A Football Romance (The Wrong Player Series Book 2)
The Wrong Play: Chapter 20

The weight of exhaustion pressed down on me. I wasn’t just physically tired. I wasn’t just tired from the ache of sleepless nights or the constant push and pull inside my own head—I was tired in my soul.

I stared at the ceiling, each second I lay there dragged, stretching out into eternity.

Would it always be like this?

Would I always feel like I was carrying something too heavy to put down?

I exhaled shakily, my fingers curling into the sheets. It hurt to exist. It hurt to wake up every day, to pretend like I wasn’t suffocating. Jace made it easier, but even he couldn’t fix what was broken inside me. And one day, he’d see that. He’d realize I was nothing more than a burden, a weight dragging him under.

What was the point in fighting if the war had already been lost?

The thought crept in slowly, insidiously. Maybe it would be easier if I just stopped. If I let it all go. If I let the darkness take me.

No more struggling. No more fighting. No more pretending to be okay when I wasn’t.

I rolled onto my side, staring at the sliver of sunlight filtering through the curtains. My heart thumped dully in my chest, a slow, steady beat that felt too loud in the quiet.

I just wanted it to stop.

Tears slipped silently down my cheeks, and I didn’t bother wiping them away. What was the point? What was the point of any of it?

The exhaustion was crushing now, pressing against my ribs, wrapping around my throat. And for the first time since I’d left home…since I’d left Callum, I wasn’t sure I had the strength to fight it anymore.

I squeezed my eyes shut, whispering a plea to no one.

I just wanted to rest.

I just wanted it to be over.

A key sounded in the lock, and I couldn’t even muster the energy to look at the door.

The door clicked open.

I felt him before I saw him.

That ridiculous, overwhelming presence. That force of nature that bulldozed his way into my life and refused to leave.

The bed dipped, and warm fingers smoothed over my cheek, tracing along my skin like he was memorizing every inch of me.

“Hey, Riley-girl,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing, but laced with something deeper. Something worried. “You decide that Ethics wasn’t worth it anymore?”

I forced my eyes open.

He was staring down at me, his brows drawn tight, his jaw clenched. His hair was a mess—like he’d dragged his hands through it on the way over—and his hoodie was pulled on haphazardly, the strings uneven.

He looked…tense. Restless. Wrecked.

Over me.

My throat tightened.

“Jace…why are you here?”

My voice barely made it past my lips.

His hand curled into a fist on the blanket, his whole body tensing. “Better question—why the hell haven’t you told me you weren’t feeling good?”

I swallowed, my head pounding, my body so drained that even shifting on the bed sent a wave of exhaustion crashing through me. I tried to sit up, to prove I wasn’t as weak as I felt, but the second I moved, sharp pain lanced through my body, and I collapsed back onto the pillow, gasping.

Jace cursed, his hands hovering over me like he wanted to do something, like he wanted to fix me. But there was nothing to fix.

This was just…me.

“Jace, you don’t have to be here,” I whispered, my voice weak.

His jaw clenched, his entire body going still.

The silence stretched, heavy and thick, and then⁠—

“Don’t ever say something like that again.”

The words were quiet, but they were packed with so much frustration, so much anger, that I couldn’t breathe.

I turned my face away, ashamed. I hated this. Hated feeling like this. Hated that he was seeing me like this.

“I’m just…tired,” I whispered.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. His eyes darkened, a storm raging behind them.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, voice low. “That’s why you’re stuck with me until you feel better.”

“Jace—”

“Nope. No arguments.” He shifted, stretching out on the bed beside me, bracing his head on his hand, his other arm draping across my stomach like he was staking a claim. Like he was never leaving. “You’re mine, Riley. That means I take care of you. End of discussion.”

The room was quiet.

Jace hadn’t moved.

I should’ve told him to leave. I should’ve shoved him off my bed, told him to go home, told him that I could handle this on my own.

Because that was how it always was.

How it always had to be.

I had spent my entire life being too much for people. Too much to deal with. Too much work.

They’d accused me of faking it, of being lazy, of exaggerating what was happening to my body so I could get attention.

I had learned a long time ago that the safest way to protect myself was to just…not let people in.

Because no one really cared.

No one ever chose me, prioritized me, tried to understand what I was going through.

Jace would be no different.

Except—

He was still here. He hadn’t flinched. Hadn’t pulled away. Hadn’t run.

Tears burned in my throat.

I sucked in a breath, willing myself to push them back, but Jace—of course, Jace fucking noticed.

His fingers brushed against my jaw, turning my face toward him.

“Baby,” he murmured, his voice softer now, like he was handling something fragile. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

I swallowed. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“And yet, here I am.”

I shut my eyes. “You don’t…you don’t understand. I don’t get better. I get through it, and then it happens again. And again. And eventually, people get tired of dealing with it. Of dealing with me.”

He was quiet for a long moment.

And then⁠—

“You think I scare that easy?”

My eyes snapped open. Jace was looking at me like I had just personally offended him.

Like I had wounded him.

His fingers traced my cheek, his gaze burning into me. “I don’t get scared, Riley.”

I didn’t blink. “I know I’m a burden,” I whispered.

His eyes flashed. “Not to me.”

Jace’s voice was quiet but steady, filled with a kind of certainty that made my breath hitch. His thumb trailed over my knuckles, his grip warm, solid—like he was grounding me in place.

“You keep acting like letting me take care of you is some kind of burden, like it’s asking too much,” he murmured, his gaze locking onto mine. “Like I’m supposed to be scared of this…of you. But, Riley, that’s not how this works. That’s not how we work.”

His fingers curled around mine, holding on like he had no intention of letting go. “Loving you isn’t some fucking chore. It’s not a weight around my neck, not something I have to suffer through. You think you’re hard to love, but you don’t get it. You don’t understand that loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

I swallowed, my throat thick because he’d said it.

He’d said the love word.

But he didn’t stop.

“You think taking care of you is some kind of sacrifice, but it’s a privilege, Riley. You hear me? A privilege. Every time you’re struggling, every time you think you have to fight alone, I want you to remember that. I want you to remember that there’s nothing in this world I’d rather do than stand beside you, carry you when you need it, and hold you up when you feel like you’re falling.”

His jaw clenched like he was trying to keep himself in check, but there was something raw in his expression, something that made my chest ache. “I love you, Riley. I love you when you’re strong…I love you when you’re barely holding on. I love you when you push me away, when you fight me, when you try to tell yourself you don’t need me. And I will love you through every single bad day you have…through every single moment where you think you’re too much.”

He lifted my hand, pressing a kiss against my palm. “You’re never going to be too much for me, sweetheart. You are my fucking world. And I’ll spend every single day proving that to you if I have to.”

I sucked in a shaky breath, terror gripping me in a way I didn’t understand.

Because he said it like it was fact.

Like he had already decided.

Like I had no say in the matter.

Like I wasn’t something that burdened—but instead, I was something that should be protected.

Jace leaned closer, so close our noses brushed. “Let me make something clear, Riley-girl.”

My breath caught.

His fingers curled against my jaw. “You are mine. And I always take care of what’s mine.”

I exhaled sharply, my body too weak to do anything but let him hold me.

Jace pulled me against him, pressing my head to his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. “So stop fighting me on this, yeah?”

I wanted to.

God, I wanted to.

But I had spent my whole life fighting for myself. How was I supposed to just…stop?

Jace pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Close your eyes, Riley. Just this once, let someone else fight for you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

And for the first time in forever⁠—

I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe⁠—

I wasn’t alone anymore.

Maybe I should have fought harder when Jace picked me up.

I should have insisted that I could take care of myself, that I didn’t need him to play hero, that I wasn’t some fragile thing he needed to rescue.

But the second he lifted me into his arms, I was done for.

Because for the first time in my life, being taken care of didn’t feel like weakness.

It felt like safety.

After driving us to his place, Jace carried me effortlessly through the front door, his arms wrapped securely around me, as if letting me go wasn’t even an option he’d considered. His grip was firm but careful, his body warm and solid against mine, like he could steady me even as I drifted further into exhaustion. His familiar scent, pine and masculine…it was everywhere, pulling me deeper into the haze pressing down on me.

His hold on me never faltered as he moved through the house, his footsteps steady, purposeful, as if he had already made up his mind that this was exactly where I was supposed to be. When we reached his room, he didn’t hesitate. He walked straight to the bed and gently laid me down, his movements careful, as if I were something precious, something fragile. The warmth of his arms disappeared as he straightened, and I instantly missed it, missed him, though I would never admit it out loud.

“You stay put,” he said, pointing a finger at me like I was some kind of unruly child who might bolt the second he turned his back.

I sighed, my body already sinking into the comfort of his bed. “Not like I’m going anywhere.”

He gave me a look like he didn’t quite believe me, but after a second, he turned and walked out of the room without another word.

I let out a slow breath, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the usual panic to settle in. Waiting for Callum’s voice to fill my head.

But he was unusually silent.

I found myself curling into the soft, warm blankets and letting my body sink deeper into his bed, letting the exhaustion take over before I could come up with a good enough excuse to push him away. By the time he returned, I was somewhere between sleep and consciousness, my body unwilling to fully let go, but the scent of peppermint and something warm pulled me back from the edge.

“Up,” he ordered, his voice softer than usual, but still carrying the same stubborn determination.

I cracked an eye open to replace him standing beside the bed, holding a mug in his hand, one brow raised expectantly.

I groaned. “Jace…”

Ignoring me completely, he sat on the edge of the bed, slipping one arm beneath my neck to help me sit up, his touch careful but unyielding, like he had already decided there was no room for argument.

“I made you tea,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

I blinked at him. “You made me tea?”

His mouth twitched slightly, as if he were fighting a smirk. “I do have culinary skills greater than just heating up corn dogs, Riley-girl.”

I eyed him suspiciously before hesitantly taking the mug from his hands, feeling the warmth seep into my fingers. “What kind?”

“Something for pain and nausea,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just admitted to looking up remedies for my symptoms. “I did my research.”

Of course he did.

I took a small sip, the warmth spreading through my chest, the taste surprisingly pleasant. “It’s not bad.”

His smirk widened. “That’s the highest praise I’ve ever received. I might frame that.”

I rolled my eyes but kept drinking, ignoring the way he watched me like I might disappear if he looked away.

Then, without warning, he reached for my legs.

I stiffened immediately. “What are you doing?”

His hands curled around my calves, his thumbs pressing gently into the sore muscles.

“You get leg cramps sometimes, right?”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

Because, yeah. I did.

A side effect of the exhaustion. Something I had just accepted, something I had never expected anyone to notice.

But Jace had.

His fingers moved slowly, carefully, kneading the tension out of my muscles, his touch strong but soothing, and despite myself, I felt my body relax against the pressure.

I wanted to tell him to stop.

I wanted to tell him I was fine, that I could handle it, that I didn’t need him taking care of me like this.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, a traitorous sound of relief slipped past my lips, and I immediately smacked a hand over my face, mortified.

Jace chuckled, the deep vibration sending warmth down my spine.

“See?” he said, his voice full of smug amusement. “I do know what I’m doing.”

I glared at him from between my fingers. “You’re⁠—”

“Amazing? A gift? The best thing to ever happen to you?”

I groaned. “Something like that.”

His grin was downright obnoxious.

But I let him keep massaging my legs.

And when he was done, he placed the mug back in my hands, watching with that same infuriating intensity as I drank.

“You don’t have to do all this,” I mumbled.

His jaw ticked. “I know I don’t.”

I swallowed, setting the mug aside. “Jace⁠—”

“Riley.”

He reached out, brushing a knuckle down my cheek, his touch impossibly gentle.

“You think I’m doing this because I have to?” His voice was quiet now, low and firm, like he was willing me to believe him.

I didn’t answer.

Because I didn’t know how.

Jace exhaled, his forehead dipping to rest against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“Listen to me,” he murmured. “You could be tied to this bed for weeks, and I’d still want you. I’d still be here.”

Tears burned my eyes.

Because he couldn’t mean that.

“You say that now,” I whispered. “But I’m a burden.”

His grip tightened on my jaw, not enough to hurt, just enough to make me focus.

“That’s the last time you ever say that to me.”

I swallowed. “But⁠—”

“No. I don’t do pity, Riley. You think I love you because you’re perfect? You think I give a shit if you need extra care?”

I couldn’t breathe. Because…I wanted to believe him. So badly.

He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll ruin anyone who makes you feel like you’re too much. Even yourself.”

A tear slipped down my cheek.

Jace caught it with his lips, kissing it away like he could take the pain with it.

I didn’t know what to say.

So, I didn’t say anything.

Instead, I finally exhaled.

I finally let go.

And when Jace pulled me into his arms, I let myself be held.

Because maybe, just maybe, he meant every word.

For three days, he was there—skipping drills, dodging his coach’s wrath, sleeping next to me when I drifted off, waking me with water, his voice a low hum through the fog.

Jace…he held me like I was worth it, like my broken pieces fit his jagged ones. By the fourth day, the fog lifted, my body lightened, and he grinned, all teeth and triumph. “There she is—my girl’s back.”

I’d laughed, weak but real, and knew then—he’d carved a space in me no one else could touch.

That night, the air in the bedroom shifted—soft and heavy, a quiet hum from the radiator weaving through the stillness, blending with the sound of our breaths as we sat on the bed. The comforter was a tangle around our legs, it kind of felt like a shield against the world outside. Jace was sprawled beside me, his golden hair a beautiful mess from my fingers running through it earlier, his shirt clinging to the broad lines of his frame, hinting at the strength beneath. I caught his gaze—those brown eyes, warm and glinting with something softer than his usual cocky smirk—and my chest tightened, a pull I couldn’t resist…a pull I didn’t want to resist.

Not anymore.

“Jace,” I whispered, my voice a fragile thread as I reached for him. My fingers brushed his jaw, rough with a day’s stubble, and he caught my hand, pressing it to his lips. His breath was warm against my skin, a tender kiss that sent a shiver racing through me, and the world shrank—just him, just me, this delicate, perfect moment suspended in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

“You want some more peppermint tea, don’t you?” he said proudly, moving to get off the bed.

I huffed softly, because he was a professional at this point at peppermint tea. But what I wanted…was something more.

“Jace,” I murmured, brushing my hand down his chest. His eyes widened, and he gulped dramatically.

“Riley-girl, I⁠—”

“Give me what I want, Jace Thatcher.”

“Are you sure?” His voice was raw, quiet, a plea edged with restraint. “I don’t want to rush you, sweetheart. Not if you’re not ready.”

The sweetness in his words made my chest tighten, stealing the air from my lungs.

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling around his, brushing over the rough calluses on his palm—the marks of a man who had clawed his way to the top with sheer will. And now…now he was here, looking at me like I was something he was willing to fight for too.

“Jace,” I murmured. “I want this. I want you. More than anything.” I blew out a breath. “I need you.”

His breath hitched at that, the sound making warmth unfurl in my stomach, slow and aching. He gripped my waist, his fingers spreading across my skin through the thin fabric of my tank top, like he was memorizing every inch.

“Fuck, Riley,” he whispered, his voice breaking with awe. “I’ve missed this.”

He lifted the hem of my shirt, peeling it up with care, baring my skin to the soft light, and I shivered—not from the chill. But from him…from the way his eyes traced me, like I was a treasure he’d uncovered, a star he’d pulled from the night sky.

I raised my arms, letting him slip the tank top over my head, the air cool against my flushed skin as it fell away. My breath caught as his fingers grazed my ribs, mapping me with a tenderness that felt like a promise, like he was seeing every part of me, the scars, the freckles, the shaky rise and fall of my chest…and loving it all.

My hands were trembling as they moved to his shirt, tugging it up and off. I needed to feel him, his warmth, his skin against mine. He helped me, pulling it over his head, and I traced the planes of his chest with my fingertips, worshiping all the taut muscle…the abs that made me wet just thinking about them.

“Please,” I breathed, my voice a soft plea as I pulled him down, our mouths meeting in a kiss. It was gentle at first, then deepened, our tongues tangling together as he licked into me. He groaned, a low, reverent sound that vibrated through my chest.

Pulling back, his eyes met mine…searching. “You’re sure?” he pressed again, his voice thick with concern. “You really feel up to this?”

“I’m sure,” I whispered, as I leaned in, kissing him again, slow and deep, pouring every ounce of trust into it. He exhaled against my lips, a shaky, relieved sound.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasped, his voice gravel and silk as his lips trailed fire down my throat, nipping my pulse hard enough to make me gasp. My head tipped back as he kissed lower, hungry and relentless. He palmed my breasts, his thumbs flicking my nipples until they were hard points, and a spark of pleasure was shooting straight to my core.

I moaned, loud and unashamed, and his smirk was dark and wicked as his mouth descended, sucking one peak hard, his tongue swirling, teasing…driving me wild.

“Jace—” I whimpered, my hands fisting his hair, tugging as he devoured me, his teeth grazing just enough to sting, then soothing with a slow, wet lick that had me writhing beneath him. His fingers dug into my hips, sliding down to rip my leggings off with my panties in one rough tug so I was completely bare.

I was dripping, my legs falling open as I panted for him. My nerve endings ignited until it felt like I was glowing. I clawed at his shoulders, pulling him back up, my lips crashing into his, tasting him as I ground against his hard body, desperate for more, for all he could give me.

He yanked off his sweats, and my breath snagged, a sharp, needy gasp as my eyes locked on his cock, heat surging through me.

It was always a treat when he didn’t wear briefs.

He was hard and thick, a gorgeous, pulsing promise in the half-light, and I bit my lip, my thighs clenching as a desperate ache flared deep in my core. My hands trembled, itching to touch, and I reached for his cock, my fingers grazing his hips, pulling him closer as my voice broke free, low and ragged.

“Come here,” I begged, a hungry edge to the whisper, and he obeyed, hovering over me, his body a scorching shield, his skin blazing against mine as he pinned me to the bed.

Jace’s mouth found mine in a fierce kiss. It was a clash of lips and tongues, and he devoured me, his groan vibrating through my chest. I arched up, pressing myself into him, my nails raking down his back, feeling the flex of muscle as he growled against my lips, the sound igniting me further. His hands gripped my waist, rough and urgent, and I shivered, bare and burning under his gaze, his brown eyes dark with lust, drinking me in like I was his last breath.

“My gorgeous girl.” His voice was a broken plea as his hands roamed over my skin, gripping my thighs, spreading me wider as he slid his dick against my thigh, hot and insistent. Every inch of him was a tease that made me ache.

I reached down, my fingers wrapping around his length—hard, velvet steel under my touch—and he hissed, a feral sound that sent a thrill racing through my insides. I guided him to me, rubbing his tip against my wet folds, teasing us both until I couldn’t stand it, until my hips bucked up, demanding him.

“Now,” I pleaded, my voice cracking with want, and he groaned, low and guttural, his hands clamping onto my hips as he thrust in, deep, hard…filling me in one fierce stroke that stole my breath. My head slammed back against the pillow with a cry.

“Fuck, Riley,” he growled, his voice rough and reverent, his hips snapping against mine in a rhythm that was wild and relentless. Every thrust was a claim, a fire searing through me. I wrapped my legs around him, my heels digging into his ass as I pulled him deeper.

I met him, thrust for thrust, our bodies slamming together in a desperate, perfect dance. Jace’s mouth found my neck, and he sucked hard, marking me, his teeth grazing my skin as I moaned, loud and free. The sound was raw and untamed as it echoed off the walls…a song I never wanted to end.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted, my hands clutching his shoulders, my body arching as he drove into me. His cock was hitting that spot deep inside that made my vision blur…that made sparks ignite behind my eyes. His rough fingers found my clit, rubbing fast and firm, slick with my arousal.

I shattered, a scream tearing from my throat as pleasure crashed through me—hot, blinding. My walls clenched around him, pulsing hard as I came, shaking and lost in the wildfire of us.

“Riley—fuck, that’s it,” he groaned in a broken voice. He kissed me, swallowing my cries as he thrust through my orgasm, dragging it out in a faltering rhythm, his hips jerking as he chased his own release. I clung to him, urging him on, and he growled, a primal, desperate sound as his hands gripped my thighs hard enough to bruise.

He slammed into me one last time, his cock pulsing inside me as he came…a shudder ripping through him, his groan loud and ragged against my ear.

We collapsed in a sweaty, trembling tangle as his weight pinned me to the bed. His chest was heaving against mine as we gasped for air, our breaths harsh and mingled in the quiet. Pressing his forehead to mine, he kissed me…slow and messy and perfect.

Jace’s hands cupped my face, holding me like I was fragile, precious, even after all that heat. “Riley,” he rasped in a hoarse…awed voice. “You’re—fuck, you’re everything.”

I shivered, every part of me still tingling as my hands traced his back, feeling the marks I’d left. I was shaky and sated as I smiled, my lips brushing against his.

“I love you,” I whispered. The words spilled out of me, soft…and true.

His groan was almost pained this time as he rolled us so that I was sprawled across his chest. His arms wrapped tight around me as his heartbeat thundered beneath my cheek.

“I love you, too,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, and I looked up at his face, only to grow wide-eyed as I watched a tear slide down his cheek. “Always.”

The word wasn’t just spoken—it was etched into the space between us, into the warmth of his body pressed against mine, into the quiet reverence in his eyes as he looked at me like I was his world. His voice, thick with emotion, wrapped around me like a vow, binding us tighter than anything physical ever could.

Another tear slid down his cheek, catching in the faint light, and something inside me clenched—something deep, something fragile, something I hadn’t dared to name before him. I reached up, brushing it away with my thumb, lingering, memorizing the way his skin felt beneath my touch, the way he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away.

Jace Thatcher, reckless and untouchable to the world, was letting himself break for me.

I had never seen anything more beautiful.

My heart ached in the best way as I whispered, “Say it again.”

His lips curled in the faintest, most heartbreakingly tender smile I’d ever seen. And he leaned in, his forehead pressing against mine, our breaths mingling…our souls stitched together in the silence.

“Always.”

A promise. A truth. A love so deep it felt inevitable, like gravity itself had brought us here.

And as I held him, as his arms tightened around me like he never intended to let go, I knew—he wasn’t just saying it.

He meant it.

I dozed off against his chest, feeling our hearts beating, basking in the glow he brought me.

But there was a shadow that crept in. The one that always hovered over me. And now that I’d given myself fully to Jace, that shadow rooted to me with real fear.

Because he loved me.

But he didn’t know my secret.

And he never could.