Chapter 1
Sadie
The student academic center smelled like stale coffee, printer ink, and poor life decisions.
I adjusted the strap of my tote higher onto my shoulder as I walked through the nearly empty hallway, my heels clicking softly against the tile floor. Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long golden streaks through the windows, making the dust floating in the air almost pretty.
Almost.
“Sadie.”
I glanced toward the front desk, where Mrs. Greene sat behind a mountain of folders, typing aggressively on her keyboard as it had personally offended her.
“You’re late,” she said without looking up.
I checked my watch. “By three minutes.”
“That’s late.”
I bit back a smile. Mrs. Greene had worked in Holt University athletics since dinosaurs roamed the earth. Nobody argued with her. Not coaches. Not players. Definitely not me.
“You got another baseball player today,” she added.
Fantastic.
I forced enthusiasm into my voice. “Lucky me.”
That finally got a snort out of her.
“Coach Maddox requested you specifically.”
That made me pause mid-step.
“Specifically?”
“Mhm.” She slid a folder across the desk toward me. “Apparently, this one needs a miracle.”
I glanced down at the name printed across the front.
Jace Holloway.
Even I knew who that was.
Which was saying something, considering I spent most of my time actively avoiding athletes.
Jace Holloway was impossible to avoid on this campus.
Star outfielder. MLB prospect. Human highlight reel.
Every other week, there was another video online of him throwing someone out at home plate from halfway across the damn field like his arm had been built in a lab.
Unfortunately, there were also videos of him:
getting into fights, leaving bars with girls hanging off his arm, chirping rival teams, and smirking at reporters like he knew they’d forgive him for anything
Campus adored him.
I found him exhausting already.
“Please tell me he’s at least willing to be here,” I muttered.
Mrs. Greene laughed outright this time.
“Oh honey.”
That was not reassuring.
I grabbed the folder and headed down the hall toward the private study rooms.
Room 4.
I pushed the door open without knocking—and immediately stopped.
Well.
That was… annoying.
Jace Holloway sat slouched in the chair at the back of the room, one long leg stretched out beneath the table while the other rested against the chair beside him. A black baseball cap was pulled low over his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest like he’d decided boredom was a personality trait.
Asleep.
Actually asleep.
My gaze flickered briefly over the tattoo curling down his tan forearm before I could stop myself. Dark ink disappeared beneath the sleeve of his gray athletic shirt, the material stretched tightly across broad shoulders.
Objectively, he was unfairly attractive.
Subjectively, he looked exactly like the kind of guy who thought rules didn’t apply to him.
I dropped my tote onto the table harder than necessary.
Nothing.
I cleared my throat.
Still nothing.
Seriously?
I crossed my arms. “You know, pretending to sleep to avoid tutoring is a little dramatic.”
Without opening his eyes, he spoke.
“You always stare at sleeping guys this hard, or am I special?”
My eyebrows lifted despite myself.
Cocky. Great.
Slowly, he tipped his head back against the chair and opened his eyes.
Brown.
Annoyingly pretty brown eyes.
He looked at me for a second too long before one corner of his mouth pulled upward lazily.
“You’re shorter than I thought.”
I blinked. “And you’re ruder than I thought.”
“That’s saying something if you already knew who I was.”
I ignored that. “I’m Sadie Covington.”
“Mm. I know.”
Of course he did.
Everybody knew everybody here, especially when your family’s last name was stitched into half the buildings on campus through donations.
I sat across from him, pulling out my laptop. “Coach Maddox says if your grades drop any lower, you lose eligibility.”
Jace let out a quiet sigh like this conversation physically pained him.
“Tragic.”
“You don’t seem very concerned.”
“I’m sitting here, aren’t I?”
“Physically? Yes. Mentally feels debatable.”
That got a reaction.
Small.
Brief.
But definitely there.
His eyes lifted fully to mine for the first time, amusement flickering behind them.
“You always this mean or am I special?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
A slow grin spread across his face then, easy and dangerous all at once.
And for some reason, that irritated me more.
I opened the folder in front of me. “Your attendance is awful.”
“I attend baseball.”
“That’s not how college works.”
“Seems to be working fine so far.”
I scanned the paper. “You’re failing economics.”
“Numbers are oppressive.”
I stared at him.
He stared back, completely serious.
“You cannot be a real person.”
“That hurts, Covington.”
There it was again.
Covington.
Not Sadie.
Something about the way he said it sounded almost teasing.
Like he already enjoyed getting under my skin.
I decided immediately that I would not give him the satisfaction.
“Well, Holloway, if you’d like to continue playing baseball instead of becoming a cautionary tale for wasted talent, I suggest you start putting in effort.”
His eyes narrowed slightly at that.
Interesting.
Finally, a reaction.
“You always talk to people like that?”
“Only the ones acting allergic to responsibility.”
A laugh escaped him then—low and genuine this time.
It caught me off guard enough that I looked up from my laptop.
Big mistake.
Because now he was leaning forward slightly, forearms resting on the table as he watched me with obvious amusement.
Like this was entertaining for him.
“You think you’ve got me figured out already?” he asked.
“I think you make it pretty easy.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
His gaze dragged over my face slowly enough to make heat creep uncomfortably into my cheeks.
Then—“You’re kinda scary.”
I scoffed. “And you’re dramatic.”
“See? Mean.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Debatable.”
I hated how naturally the conversation flowed already.
Like we’d been doing this longer than five minutes.
I quickly looked back down at my screen. “Alright. We’re starting with economics.”
“Absolutely not.”
My head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
“I’d rather get hit by a bus.”
“You’re being dramatic again.”
“I’m being honest.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Jace.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly at the sound of his first name.
And for some reason, I immediately regretted saying it.
“You have three missing assignments, a forty-two on your last exam, and if Coach Maddox hadn’t begged the department to give you extra tutoring support, you’d already be benched.”
At that, his expression shifted slightly.
Still relaxed.
Still smug.
But something darker flickered underneath it.
Gone almost instantly.
“You know,” he said lightly, spinning a pen between his fingers, “most girls are nicer to me.”
I deadpanned. “Most girls probably want something from you.”
“And you don’t?”
“No.”
That answer came too fast.
His grin widened instantly.
“Ouch.”
“I mean baseball-wise,” I corrected quickly.
“Sure, Covington.”
God, he was annoying.
And somehow entirely too aware of himself.
I ignored him and slid a worksheet across the table. “Do the first five questions.”
He looked down at it like I’d handed him a death certificate.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
“See?” he said, pointing at me accusingly. “Mean.”
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed loudly against the table.
A girl’s name lit up the screen.
Kenzie <3
Of course.
He declined the call without even looking.
Not two seconds later, another text came through.
Kenzie:u still coming tonight?
I looked away immediately, pretending I hadn’t seen it.
Not my business.
Definitely not my business.
Jace noticed anyway.
His eyes flickered toward me.
Then his phone.
Then back.
And for the first time since I walked in, the teasing faded just slightly from his expression.
“You gonna keep staring at my phone too, or are we studying?”
Heat immediately flooded my face.
I shot him a glare. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yet here you are.”
I hated that my stomach flipped a little at the smirk that followed.
Absolutely hated it.
