My name is Jace Callahan, and I've pretty much mastered the art of getting whatever I want.

I'm the starting shooting guard for Westbrook High's varsity basketball team, the guy everyone knows, the guy girls flirt with in the hallways, and the guy teachers have just about given up trying to discipline. I've got the expensive clothes, the expensive car, a different girl at nearly every party, and a reputation for being an arrogant, flirtatious asshole.

And honestly? I don't mind the reputation.

It's easier being the guy everyone thinks they've figured out than letting anyone get close enough to realize they haven't.

Basketball is my life. Not because I necessarily chose it, but because my father did.

My dad, Richard Callahan, was supposed to make it to the NBA. He was a phenomenal shooting guard, apparently one of the best prospects coming out of his college. Then one injury changed everything. A devastating leg injury ended his career before it ever really began, leaving him with nothing but old photographs, forgotten trophies, and dreams he couldn't chase anymore.

So he decided I'd chase them for him.

Every missed shot is a disappointment. Every bad game is a lecture. Every college scout is another opportunity he reminds me I cannot afford to waste.

He doesn't see a eighteen-year-old kid who loves basketball but sometimes wonders what his life would look like without it.

He sees his second chance.

And then there's her.

The coach's daughter.

She's practically grown up in our gymnasium, surrounded by basketballs, squeaking sneakers, halftime speeches, and the smell of polished hardwood. Her father, Coach Bennett, has been coaching our team for years, which means she's been around the players long enough to know exactly how we operate.

She's also one of the few people who doesn't seem remotely impressed by me.

She knows my reputation. She's heard the rumors. She's probably witnessed me flirting with half the girls in our school.

And she has absolutely no problem letting me know how obnoxious she thinks I am.

Unfortunately for her, I find that entertaining.

Unfortunately for me, her father happens to be my coach.

And when Coach Bennett starts spending extra time preparing me for college recruitment, he assigns his daughter to help organize practice schedules, game recordings, and team statistics.

Which means I'm suddenly seeing her almost every single day.

She's stubborn, quick-witted, and has a talent for getting under my skin without even trying.

I call her princess just to annoy her.

She calls me an overgrown ego with a basketball.

Fair enough.

But somewhere between our constant arguments, late-night gym sessions, and the games where she sits in the bleachers watching me play, things start getting complicated.

Because she begins noticing things nobody else does.

Like how I stay behind after practice when everyone leaves.

How my smile disappears whenever my father walks into the gym.

And how, sometimes, when I miss a shot, I look toward the sidelines before I even look at the scoreboard.

I don't need another person expecting me to be perfect.

Especially not the coach's daughter.

But for the first time in my life, I'm starting to wonder what it would feel like to play basketball because I love it, rather than because I'm trying to become the son my father wants.

And somehow, she's becoming the one person I actually want watching me.