Loni

I found my first prospect. During my Editing for Cinema class, I lock down a date with my first guy. Marcus something. His last name isn't important. His first name isn't really important either. I'm not looking to get to know him. All I want to know is if he's good in bed.

But because I'm not completely crazy, we set up a quick date to get drinks at Shakers, a bar that is super close to the university, tonight after my practice. I need to make sure he won't kidnap me and brutally murder me once we get into bed together.

My class runs a lot longer than normal. On Fridays, we normally get out at four, which gives me a decent amount of time to get to practice at six. But we have a test next week and Professor Hopkins said we can stay longer and go over our giant study guide.

Now, it's ten minutes till six and I'm running across campus to the gym. Bayside isn't huge but all of my classes are all the way on the opposite side from the gym.

I make it there two minutes past six o'clock. Last year, Coach Carr wouldn't have cared if anyone came late to practice, whether you were two minutes or twenty minutes past start time. As long as you made an effort to show up. But Jace wasn't so easygoing.

As soon as I get to the volleyball court, the team is already running drills. While Coach Carr yells instructions at them, Jace stands next to her, arms crossed over his board chest and his eyes are fixated on me.

I scurry into the locker room and change quickly. I'm tying up my hair in a ponytail as I walk out to the court. But Jace stands right outside the locker room door.

"All of your teammates found a way to get here on time," he remarks.

I scoff and try to pass by him, but he blocks me, leaning against the doorframe.

"One hundred burpees. On the ground, now."

"Excuse me?"

"You're right. One hundred might be too much for you to handle. I'll make it fifty." My glare on him infuriates with his growing smirk. "Come on," he huffs.

Blood is practically boiling under my skin. My nails dig into my palms with my clenched fists. But I hold in my rage and walk towards the court. I stand near the back wall and Jace towers next to me. His eyes are encouraging, waiting for me to begin.

I bite my tongue. Literally. I have to bite it to keep myself from calling him out on being such a huge asshole. I begin my burpees and Jace counts each one out loud.

"One."

I hate him.

"Two."

I really fucking hate him.

"Three."

Why the fuck is he singling me out like this? Sienna Ray waltzes into practice ten minutes after I did and he greets her with a wave and she jumps into practice with the team.

This has to be because of the kiss the other day. There's no other explanation. But why is he punishing me for it? Is this payment for helping me out? Yeah, thank God he was there to help me out with Eric, but I could have managed on my own. I would have figured something else out.

Or maybe the guy just hates my guts because I myself have been nothing but an asshole to him since we met.

"Twenty. Come on, keep pushing."

His words of encouragement are worthless. But my disdain for him is what keeps me going. I need to keep my gaze on the ground though because his dark brown eyes and intense stare make my legs want to buckle. I can't give him the satisfaction of watching me fail.

The torture doesn't stop with the burpees. For the entire practice, Jace runs me ragged. And anytime I bring up a complaint to Coach Carr, she fluffs me off, telling me to listen to Mr. Maxwell, and then buries her face in her phone again.

My legs are like jelly when I leave the gym. I'll just need to pop a bunch of ibuprofen before I meet up with Marcus. I'm looking forward to being twisted into a pretzel with him.

Mr. Maxwell isn't going to stop me. No matter how hard he fucking tries.