The Wrong Quarterback (The Wrong Player, #1)

by C.R. Jane

Grief is like that, I guess. You think the world should stop, should fall apart with you, but it doesn’t. It keeps going. And you’re left standing in the middle of it, feeling hollow, watching everything move on like the person you loved wasn’t the very center of it all.

“Breathe,” I murmured. Her breath left her in a sexy gasp, and I inhaled, because I wanted her air inside me.

Well damn. I fear I would have folded like origami.

“I know you feel this. Like something has happened to my fucking soul. Like I can’t breathe without you anymore. Tell me it’s not just me that’s gone crazy. Tell me you’re right there with me,”

“You don’t get to regret this. You don’t get to regret me.

Jace sighed, blinking his eyes a few times. “Alright, so we’re doing this. I didn’t have it written on my calendar to add breaking and entering and fire to my dossier today, but I can pivot.”