

Description
Lola Reyes has one goal: lead her school's volleyball team to victory at Regionals - no matter how many late nights, blisters, or breakdowns it takes. But with her once-trusted brother Cassian skipping practices and secretly dating her enemy, everything she's built is cracking at the seams. Enter Jace Carter: cocky, brooding, and dangerously good - at both volleyball and motocross. He's Cassian's biggest rival, and the last person Lola should be falling for. But when a chance meeting at the gym sparks more than just tension, Lola's carefully controlled world starts to unravel. He's off-limits. She's off-balance. Their chemistry? Off the charts. With scholarships, reputations, and hearts on the line, Lola must choose: protect the team... or follow the one person who makes her feel like she's finally living. He's everything her brother hates. But he might be everything she needs.
Chapter 1
May 21, 2025
Lola’s POV
“You cannot miss practice again, Cassian!”
I didn’t mean to shout, but I couldn’t stop myself. My voice echoed through the gym, sharp and angry. My brother was already halfway to the door, grabbing his bag like he couldn’t care less.
Cassian didn’t even look back, he just stormed out.
The door slammed.
I stood there, chest heaving, hands shaking. The rest of the team went quiet. I could feel their eyes on me, like they were waiting for Captain Lola to hold it together like always. So I did. I clenched my fists. I smiled tight. I nodded and told everyone to finish drills without him.
That’s what I do. I perform. I lead. I pretend I’m not falling apart.
But inside? I was tired. So damn tired.
Cassian had been doing this for weeks—missing practices, disappearing after games, always with the same dumb excuse.
“I was helping Darla.”
Darla. The new girl who giggles every time Cassian walks past. The one who can barely spike a ball but somehow always gets one-on-one help from him. Right.
Helping?
More like flirting. More like undressing each other with their eyes. Eye-fucking right there on the court like no one would notice. Like I wouldn’t notice.
He thinks I’m blind? I’ve known him my whole life.
We used to be a team. Not just on the court—but everywhere. The Sinclair siblings. Everyone knew us. Everyone watched us. We were the definition of volleyball royalty.
Sharp. Strategic. In sync like we could read each other’s minds.
They called us the golden pair. Coach used to say we were born to play together.
And maybe we were.
But something changed. I don’t know exactly when, but it started about a month ago. Cassian began skipping drills. Showing up late. Leaving early. Laughing more with Darla than he ever did with me.
And the worst part?
He didn’t even try to hide it.
I picked up a ball and slammed it against the wall. Hard. The echo bounced back at me like mockery.
Regionals are around the corner. Everything we worked for—gone if he keeps this up.
So now, I practice alone. Set after set. Serve after serve. Trying to pretend we’re still a team. That everything’s fine. That we’re okay.
We’re not.
After practice, I packed up slow. The gym emptied out. I stayed behind, staring at the court. The same court our parents once trained on.
Our mom was a volleyball champion. Gold medals. Magazine covers. Everyone wanted to be her. Our dad was her coach. He built this program. He built us.
They were legends.
And now they’re just names on a plaque.
I zipped my bag, grabbed the peach bouquet I brought from home, and walked out.
The sky was already gray when I reached the cemetery. The air was heavy. Still. Like it knew today hurt.
Five years. Five years ago, our parents drove to a dinner party across the lake. Rain hit hard. The bridge was slick. They lost control. The car hit the railing and went over.
By the time anyone found them, it was too late.
Cassian and I were only twelve.
Since then, every year—same routine. We meet at their grave. We bring flowers. We talk. We remember. We cry when no one’s looking.
It’s the only day he’s never missed.
Until now.
I waited. And waited. I checked my phone. No texts. No call. Not even a fake excuse. It started to get dark. The wind picked up. The air turned cold.
Still nothing.
My throat tightened. My hands shook. But I didn’t cry.
I would not cry. I sat down beside the grave and stared at the stone. It was simple. Beautiful.
Amelia Sinclair – National Champion
Dane Sinclair – Coach of Champions
Together, always.
I laid the flowers down gently. Mom loved peach blooms. She said they reminded her of victory.
I brushed dirt from the corner of the stone and whispered, “Hi.”
Silence. I swallowed hard. “He didn’t come,” I said. “Cassian. He didn’t show.”
My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and forced myself to keep talking.
“He missed practice again. He’s been acting like volleyball doesn’t matter. Like you don’t matter. Like we don’t.”
The tears welled up in my eyes, burning hot. I looked away, up at the dark sky.
“I’ve been trying. Really. I’ve been practicing alone. Leading the team. Smiling through it. But I’m tired.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“Cassian’s changing. And I don’t know why. He’s slipping away from everything. From the team. From me. From… you.”
I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail, like I always did before a game, and that’s when it all broke loose.
The tears fell fast.
“I don’t want to admit it. But I think… I think we’re failing you. Mom. Dad.”
My voice dropped to a whisper.
“I think we’re failing the legacy.”

Falling for My Brother’s Enemy
30 Chapters
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