Loni

"I think I'm just done with relationships completely," I say, dropping my gym bag onto the metal bleachers. Hadley follows my lead as I walk over to the rolling basket of volleyball. I tie my light brown hair in a messy bun and grab a ball. "It's just too much drama. Too much heartache."

"You're just gonna be done with men altogether?"

I toss the firm ball in the air and catch it, examining its pristine surface. "Yup."

I'm ready to start practice with the rest of the team, but as soon as my phone buzzes in the pocket of my spandex shorts, my mind goes blank. My ball drops from my palms as my hand dives into my pocket.

It's pathetic I know. It's been two weeks. I should be completely over him. I've been convincing myself that I'm over him. But any time my phone vibrates my heart skips for a brief moment in hopes that it's Eric.

I want nothing more than for him to come crawling back on his knees begging me to take him back, to have my forgiveness for being such a complete dick head. But each time, like now, when I pull out my phone it's just an email from another monthly subscription, a weather alert, or my mom sending me photos from her adventures around the world with my dad. It's a weather alert. And I've had Eric's number blocked since twenty minutes after he dumped me. But for some irrational reason, anytime my phone makes a single sound, I think it's him.

I stare at my phone for longer than I should, tempted to open up Instagram and stalk Eric's profile. As my thumb hovers over the app, breathy gasps from the other girls on the team echo off the wall. I don't lift my gaze from my phone, though, I'm too focused.

"Hi everyone. I'm Jace Maxwell. I'm the new assistant coach."

I still don't look up. I'm too honed in on the Instagram search bar with Eric's name typed in it. I shouldn't open his profile.

"Coach Carr needed to take a personal day so I'll be leading today's practice."

The coos from the other girls on the team are like a faint whisper in my ears. All I can hear is the blood pumping through my veins as the temptation to open up his profile grows stronger.

"Do you mind putting your phone away?"

My head snaps up. My eyes lock with the guy whose name is Jace Maxwell. The new coach, I guess. I kind of zoned out there for a moment.

His brown-eyed gaze looks me up and down and a smirk tugs on his lips as I tuck my phone back into my pocket. I swear his stare lingers for a moment too long before he runs his fingers through his black hair and exhales, studying the rest of the team.

"Let's all get warmed up. Grab a ball and begin with practicing your serve."

The girls do as they're told and don't hesitate for even a second. They giggle and trot over to the ball basket. Beginning on the task he instructed.

"Who is that?" I whisper in Hadley's ear, keeping my eyes on Jace while she looks for the perfect volleyball. "I feel like I've seen him before."

"Jace is friends with my brother. I don't know much about him other than the fact that he's a complete man whore. But you know I try to avoid hanging out with Tyler and his friends as much as possible." We approach the serving line and as I hold my ball up, Hadley lets out a sigh. "He is really hot though..." She tosses her ball up and smacks it over the net. Beautiful. "Are you sure you want to give up guys for good?"

It's in that moment, when I toss my ball in the air, that Jace and I lock eyes. My mouth goes dry as I swing my hand forward, missing my ball, it bounces off the tip of my sneaker and rolls towards him.

He picks it up with one hand and looks at it with a smirk before tossing it back to me. "Try that again," he says with humor in his tone.

"Yeah," I say turning my attention back to the court in front of me. I ready my stance to try my serve again. "I'm sure." This time, I don't fucking miss.