I would love to see what is under

Aria’s POV

The warm water rolled down my back, washing off the sweat and dirt from the training grounds. Muscles sore, I leaned into the stream, letting it soothe me.

I hadn’t realized how long I’d been out there, pushing myself until my legs almost gave out.

I finally turned off the water and reached for the towel I’d left on the rack. It was short—barely enough to cover the essentials—but it would have to do. Wrapping it around me, I stepped into the changing room.

That’s when I noticed something was off.

My locker was open.

I frowned, walking over to it. My clothes were gone. Every single item.

“What the…?”

I looked around. A few girls were still getting dressed, brushing their hair, tying their shoes. “Did any of you see who opened my locker and took my clothes?”

No one looked at me.

Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

“Seriously?” I asked again, louder. “Someone took my stuff.”

One girl grabbed her bag and rushed out without even meeting my eyes. Another zipped her jacket and muttered something under her breath, like I wasn’t worth her time.

And just like that, I was alone.

I groaned and looked around the room. I didn’t even have a phone to call for help. What was I supposed to do now—walk out in a towel?

The door creaked open.

“I heard there was a damsel in distress,” a deep, unmistakably smug voice drawled.

I snapped my head around and saw him.

Ryker.

Brown eyes that gleamed with mischief, and that messy auburn hair he never bothered to tame. He leaned casually against the doorframe like he wasn’t breaking fifty school rules just being in here.

“What the heck are you doing in the girls’ locker room?” I snapped, holding the towel tighter.

He grinned. “Heard a few girls talking about teaching you a lesson for being undefeated today. Thought I’d come check in on my favorite underdog.”

I blinked. “You’re kidding me. I’m being punished for being good?”

He shrugged. “Well, that, and maybe for being annoyingly hard to get.”

I groaned. “This again?”

Ryker stepped in, the door swinging shut behind him. “Look, I’m here to help. All I want is one thing.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not making a deal with you.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, glancing around. “You could walk out like that. Might make someone's day. Or…” he paused, eyes twinkling, “you could break into someone else’s locker, steal their clothes, and owe the Academy a fine. Which I’m sure you can’t afford.”

Damn it, he had a point.

I didn’t say anything, just glared.

“My condition’s not even harsh,” Ryker said, stepping closer. His scent hit me—something warm that made my chest tighten. “One night. Go out with me.”

I raised a brow. “That’s your idea of help?”

“Hey,” he smirked, “I’m giving you options.”

I could say yes now and ditch him later. It’s not like he could force me.

“…Fine,” I muttered. “One night. Then I vanish.”

Ryker’s grin widened like he’d won the lottery. He reached down, pulled off his shirt, and handed it to me. “Here. The honor of being wrapped in Ryker’s scent. You're welcome.”

I stared at the shirt, then at him, then slapped my palm over my face.

“This is the help?” I sighed. “Better than nothing, I guess.”

Ryker winked. “You’re welcome again, gorgeous.”

I rolled my eyes and collected the shirt.

“I need pants too,” I said. “And I’m sure as hell not wearing yours.”

Ryker raised an eyebrow. “Pity. They’d look great on you.”

“Ryker,” I warned.

“Alright, alright,” he chucked, walking over to a random locker.

He suddenly ripped the door clean off like it was made of paper.

“What are you doing?” I asked, stunned.

“Getting you some pants,” he said casually, digging through the locker. “Don’t worry about it. Damage is on me.”

He found a pair of joggers and tossed them to me. “Here. Try these. If they don’t fit, I’ll just break into another one.”

“Is destruction your solution to everything?” I muttered.

He just grinned.

I turned to walk behind one of the lockers to change, but—of course—he followed.

I spun around. “Move. I want to dress.”

“I don’t mind seeing what’s under the towel,” he said with a wink, leaning against the locker.

Without blinking, I stepped forward and said, “How about I remind you what I did to you last time?”

Ryker immediately brought his hands to his crotch and stepped back like I was holding a loaded weapon. “Alright, alright! I get it! Total privacy. I’m gone.”

He shuffled away, still covering himself, mumbling something about cruel women.

I let out a small snort and slipped into the pants. They were a little loose, but manageable. Ryker’s shirt smelled like him—warm, spicy, and annoyingly good. My nose hated how much it liked his scent.

How can someone this attractive be this annoying?

When I walked out, Ryker gave me a slow once-over and let out a low whistle. “Damn. My shirt’s never looked better. Fits you like it was made for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Lucky me.”

He smirked. “You are lucky. No other woman has ever worn one of my shirts.”

“I hope I don’t barf on it,” I said dryly.

Ryker grinned wider. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Barf-worthy hot—I like it.”

We stepped out of the changing room. I tugged Ryker’s oversized shirt lower and kept my head down. I just wanted to disappear before anyone else saw me like this.

No such luck.

“Ryker. Aria.”

We both froze.

The Headmaster stood a few feet away, arms behind his back, eyes sharp as knives. He looked between us—me in Ryker’s shirt and borrowed pants, Ryker shirtless and smug—and raised a single brow.

“Why,” he asked slowly, “were the two of you coming from the same locker room?”

I opened my mouth to explain, panic bubbling in my chest—

“We just finished having the most amazing time of our lives,” Ryker said, smiling like the devil himself. “Truly unforgettable. Wouldn’t you agree, Aria?”

I choked on air.