The Wrong Play: A Football Romance (The Wrong Player Series Book 2)
The Wrong Play: Chapter 28

The campus library was nearly empty on a Saturday morning, but that was exactly why I’d chosen it. Tucked away in the farthest corner, I curled into my chair, trying to drown in the pages of my textbook. My coffee had gone cold an hour ago, my notes sat untouched, and the clock on my laptop inched farther and farther away from ten—the time I was supposed to be at my first tutoring session with Callum.

I hadn’t gone. I wasn’t going to go.

He could manipulate the university all he wanted, twist reality in whatever way suited him best, but I wasn’t going to sit in a room with him and play his games. He wanted control? Let him fume over the fact that I refused to show up.

I’d also decided I was going to tell Jace. He’d had to spend the night at a hotel with the team in preparation for the game tonight, but I was going to tell him tomorrow.

And accept whatever came after that.

I exhaled slowly, unclenching my fingers from where they’d been digging into my palm. Maybe this would be it. Callum would realize he wasn’t going to win, and we could both move on…

Maybe…

A cluster of students walked past my table, their voices breaking through my focus. At first, it was just background noise, muffled murmurs about the upcoming game, last night’s party, a test they were all dreading. I tuned it out, forcing my attention back to the open book in front of me.

And then, I heard it.

“She was obsessed with him.”

The words slammed into me like a physical blow. My breath caught, fingers tightening around my pen as my ears zeroed in on the hushed conversation happening just a few feet away.

“Like, full-on stalker mode,” a redhead from one of my classes, who always had a designer handbag and an ever-present smirk, whispered. “He told me she wouldn’t leave him alone. It was bad.”

My stomach flipped.

“Wait, Riley St. James? The one that’s dating Jace Thatcher?” A guy scoffed, his voice laced with disbelief. “She doesn’t seem like the type.”

The girl let out a huff, like she was annoyed he wasn’t buying it outright. “That’s how people like her get you. She seems normal, but he said she used to show up at his house, uninvited. Sent letters, emails—threatened to hurt herself when he wouldn’t give her what she wanted. He had to let her down gently because she was so unstable.”

The air around me turned razor-sharp, slicing into my skin. My hands went numb, my pulse roaring in my ears as my mind fought to keep up.

No. No, no, no.

Callum.

Of course, it was Callum.

I forced in a slow breath, gripping the edge of my table so hard my knuckles turned white. He was doing it again. Warping the past, twisting reality, painting himself as the victim while making me into something pathetic, something broken, something dangerous.

And people were believing him.

I stared down at my textbook, the words blurring together as nausea churned inside me. How was it all so effortless for him, that he could have just arrived and already be wielding so much power?

The girl sighed, her voice softening—but it wasn’t pity. It was satisfaction. “Honestly, I feel bad for him. Can you imagine how scary that must’ve been? He’s such a nice guy. He probably felt responsible for her.”

I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat.

I had to get out of here.

My chair scraped against the floor as I pushed back abruptly, the sound cutting through the low hum of voices around me. Heads turned. A few people blinked in curiosity, eyes flicking to me before shifting away, but I felt the weight of their attention like a crushing force.

I shoved my notebook into my bag, my hands jerky, clumsy. I still had more studying to do, but I couldn’t stay—not here, not when my lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves.

The girl didn’t even pause in her conversation.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if she still kept tabs on him. Someone needs to warn Jace.”

The words followed me as I walked away.

The moment I stepped out of the library, I felt it—that creeping sensation slithering down my spine, the weight of unseen eyes pressing against my back. I told myself I was being paranoid. I turned the corner, heading toward the courtyard, when a hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me into the alcove between buildings. My breath shot out of me in a sharp gasp as my back hit the cold brick, my body locking up at the sudden touch.

“Riley.” His voice was silk over steel, smooth and coaxing, but with that ever-present undercurrent of cruelty. The kind of voice that promised destruction hidden beneath a charming veneer.

I tried to yank free, but his grip tightened, fingers pressing into my skin like shackles. “Let go.”

Callum clicked his tongue, shaking his head like I was some troublesome child. “Now, now, is that any way to greet your mentor? I was worried about you, Riley. You missed our session.” His smirk was infuriating, full of condescension. “And we both know that wasn’t optional.”

My stomach twisted. “I thought you would let it slide considering the false pretenses,” I hissed.

He arched a brow, amused. “You wound me, Riley. False pretenses?” He scoffed. “I think you need someone looking out for you. Because, darling, you’ve got quite the reputation these days, haven’t you?” He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “People are talking, Riley. And not in a way that benefits you.”

I stiffened. “You did this.” My voice shook with fury, but he just tilted his head, eyes bright with feigned innocence.

“Me? You’re cutting me, truly.” He let out a low chuckle, his thumb stroking over the pulse point in my wrist. “But let’s be honest. You never really needed my help ruining yourself, did you?”

I swallowed hard, pulse hammering in my throat. “Why are you doing this to me?” I hated the vulnerability in my voice, but Callum thrived on it, feeding on weakness like a parasite.

His smirk widened, his grip loosening just enough to trail his fingers up my arm, slow and deliberate. I flinched, a violent shudder rolling through me, but he only hummed in amusement. “Because, my dear Riley, I replace it entertaining. Watching you scramble, watching you fight so hard to stay afloat when we both know you’re drowning.”

I gritted my teeth. “You don’t own me, Callum. And you don’t know me, either. Not anymore.”

His gaze darkened, the glint of something vicious flashing across his face. “Don’t I?”

I felt it then, the true weight of his power. Callum had always known how to make me feel small. And right now, with his hand pinning me against the wall, his voice dripping with amusement, I felt utterly powerless.

“You know what I could do to that boy you’re living with, don’t you? One little whisper to the right people, and his name disappears from every draft board. His dream of the NFL? Gone. Just like that.” His voice was a blade slicing through the air.

“Leave him out of this.”

Callum sighed dramatically, as if my request genuinely inconvenienced him. “Oh, but that’s the thing, Riley. You make it impossible. Moving in with him? Makes me wonder…does he even know what you are?”

My pulse pounded in my ears, but I forced myself to stand tall. “If you do anything to him⁠—”

He held up a hand, feigning offense. “Now, now, don’t be so dramatic. I don’t have to do anything. I just have to…suggest a few things, let the right people come to their own conclusions.” His smile sharpened. “You think I ruined your reputation? Imagine what I could do to his.”

Pain bloomed in my chest, panic threatening to consume me. Jace had already done so much—protected me, loved me. And now, Callum was holding him over my head like a guillotine.

“I don’t want to hurt him, Riley.” His voice was soft now, mockingly gentle. “But if you really love him, you’ll leave him before he gets caught in the crossfire. You’ll come back where you belong. Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure the whole world sees him as nothing more than the fool who let an obsessed little liar ruin his life.”

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

I hated him. I hated how he always knew exactly where to strike, how he could sink his claws into my weakest points and rip me apart like it was nothing.

“You don’t get to control me,” I whispered.

Callum’s smirk returned, lazy and triumphant. “I already do.”

Then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd like he hadn’t just torn my world apart. I stood frozen, my breath ragged, my heart screaming in protest.

The stadium pulsed with life, packed with fans draped in orange and white, their cheers rising and crashing in an unrelenting rhythm. The air vibrated with anticipation, thick with the scent of stadium food and the syrupy sweetness of spilled soda—the kind of atmosphere that usually felt intoxicating, impossible to resist.

But tonight, it was different.

The noise didn’t vibrate through me the same way. The energy didn’t lift me; it pressed down instead, heavy and suffocating. Every cheer, every chant, every roaring reaction to the game blurred into a meaningless hum, drowned out by the low, insidious echo of Callum’s voice in my head. I tried to focus, to latch onto the distractions around me—the laughter of students, the familiar rhythm of the fight song, the distant sound of whistles cutting through the chaos—but none of it could shake the cold weight lodged in my chest.

Jace was out there, moving like he was untouchable, like nothing could shake him. But I knew better. Callum had set his sights on him, on us, and suddenly, game day didn’t feel like an escape. It felt like a countdown to something I couldn’t stop.

I sat wedged between Natalie and Casey, both of them fully invested in the action unfolding on the field. Casey was on the edge of her seat, elbows on her knees, eyes locked on Parker like he was the only player out there. Natalie, on the other hand, had spent most of the game alternating between screaming at the refs and using her phone camera like a sniper scope to zoom in on Tennessee’s offensive line.

I was…pretending.

Pretending I was just another girl in the stands, wearing her boyfriend’s number, cheering like everyone else. Pretending I wasn’t holding myself together with frayed stitches.

Callum was here.

I hadn’t seen him yet, but I felt him. That insidious, crawling sensation of being watched, of being studied, like a hand pressing between my shoulder blades, a whisper in the back of my head.

I forced my gaze to stay locked on the field, to focus on Jace, lined up at the thirty-yard line, his stance loose but lethal, fingers twitching at his sides as he waited for the snap. It should’ve calmed me. The familiarity of him, the certainty. But even Jace—the safest thing in my world—couldn’t keep the dread from knotting in my stomach.

“Riley?” Casey nudged me, dragging me back to the present.

I blinked, realizing I’d been gripping my knee so hard my knuckles had gone white.

“What?”

“You okay?” She frowned, tipping her head.

Natalie waved down the guy selling bottled water without waiting for my answer. “She’s fine, she’s just stress-watching because they’re playing like this,” she announced, handing me one. “Hydrate. Hydration fixes everything. Except for heartbreak and bad grades, but you’re not failing, and you’re definitely not heartbroken, so drink up.” She eyed me until I took a sip before patting my hand. “Jace will probably do something ridiculous soon, and we need you conscious for it.”

I tried to laugh, but it felt hollow.

If only that was the case…

Callum had won.

I could admit that now.

He’d walked into my world like I’d never left his.

And he’d won.

I sucked in a breath and let my eyes drift toward the stands. And there he was.

Standing a few sections over, too still in the chaos of the crowd. He wasn’t cheering. He wasn’t watching the game. He wasn’t even pretending to blend in.

He was watching me.

A slow, knowing smirk curled at his lips, his head tilting slightly—like he was amused, like he’d caught me in some invisible trap, like I’d played right into his hands just by existing.

The crowd swarmed around him, oblivious, cheering and laughing, lost in the game while he lifted a hand, barely a movement, just enough for me to see. Just enough to remind me he was there.

My stomach twisted violently.

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t sit here, pretending everything was fine while his stare stripped me down to nothing. I felt exposed, flayed open under his gaze, every breath too shallow, every nerve on fire.

I shot to my feet so fast my knee slammed into the metal in front of our seats. Casey startled beside me, blinking up in confusion. “Riley?”

“I’ll be right back,” I muttered, barely hearing myself over the blood pounding in my ears.

Natalie frowned. “Where are you⁠—”

But I was already moving.

I shoved past the people crammed in the row, barely hearing their complaints as I reached the stairs. My hands trembled, my legs carrying me on pure instinct.

Not toward him.

Away.

I had to get away from that stare. Away from the sick feeling twisting in my gut, from the phantom touch of his fingers on my skin, from the past slamming into me with every beat of my heart.

I took the stairs two at a time, blind panic nipping at my heels.

I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t stop.