Lucas
I knew this was a bad idea the first time she smiled at me and didn't flinch when I corrected her stance.
"Feet apart," I say, nudging her ankle with my own. "Shoulders relaxed. Hands up."
She adjusts, lips pressed together in concentration. Her hair is pulled back, sweat beading at her temples, but she still somehow looks like a walking Instagram reel.
"Like this?" she asks.
"Better," I say. "Now jab. Straight line. Don't swing from your shoulder like you're swatting a fly."
She jabs, glove thudding against the pad I'm holding.
"Again."
We go through it, over and over, until her arms tremble. She doesn't complain. Not once.
The others filter out as class ends. Theo tosses me a water bottle; Darius logs something into the computer. The gym hums with the echoes of exertion.
"You did good," Theo tells her. "For a raccoon."
"Gee, thanks," she pants, wiping her forehead. "You're, like, a walking compliment generator. Did someone hit you on the head or what?"
Theo smiles and walks away.
She glances at me, searching my face for something—approval, maybe.
"You kept your word," I say. "You worked. Come back next time. Same rules."
Her grin is blinding. "You're gonna regret this, Lucas."
I already do.
Of course, the universe hears that and laughs.
Weeks go by. Aria keeps showing up. On time. Sometimes early. She wraps her hands with practiced efficiency now, shadowboxes before class, stays after to finish her combos.
She still jokes. Still vibrates with energy. She teases Theo, listens when Darius corrects her guard, and rolls her eyes at my gruff instructions—but she listens. And flirts.
One night, after everyone else has left, she lingers by the ring, unlacing her gloves slowly.
"You ever miss it?" she asks.
"Miss what?" I say.
"The army," she says. "You move like you're still there."
I pause. "What does that mean?"
She shrugs. "You're always scanning. Counting. Watching exits. You flinch when something drops too loudly. You never stand with your back to the door. I binge-watch too many war shows not to notice."
Her perception surprises me. Most people just see the surface—scarred vet stereotype. She's looking deeper.
"Sometimes," I admit. "But I like this better. Less sand."
She laughs softly. "Why'd you leave?"
"Why'd you start protesting?" I counter.
She considers. "Because being quiet made me feel like I was suffocating. Because I like people. I like noise. I like… being part of something bigger than my own problems."
"Same," I say. "With less glitter."
She grins, then sobers. "You know I'm more than just… chaos, right?"
I look at her. Scan her face. Despite exhaustion she is still gleaming with energy. I thought, if I ask her to do another set, she'll probably do that instead of complaining.
"You are chaos," I say. "And discipline. Both can exist."
She beams at that like I handed her a trophy.
We're standing too close now. I can smell her shampoo, something citrusy and bright. The air between us feels charged, like the second before a punch lands.
"Lucas?" she says softly.
"Yeah?"
She steps closer to me. Out of surprise, she says, her voice is soft, breath warm against my jaw.
"If I kissed you right now… would you kiss me back?"
My pulse fires a warning up my neck.
Her face is inches away — too close. She doesn't realize what she's playing with. Or maybe she does, and that's the problem. There's a moment where the gym is dead quiet. Just her breathing, and the heavy, unsteady thud of my heart.
I swallow the answer that almost slips out.
"I don't cross lines with my students," I say.
Her eyes flick down to my mouth — a quick, traitorous glance — and I feel it like a hand around my throat.
"Sounds like a dodge," she whispers.
I take a step back. Distance. I need distance.
She studies me, a slow smile forming.
"It's okay," she says. "I'll wait until I'm not your student."
I should shut that down. I don't.
Instead, I turn away, grab a towel, and pretend my entire world didn't just tilt toward her.
Darius arrives just in time to break whatever spell we were trapped in — tall, broad, warm presence, a calm shadow to Theo's chaos. His deep voice rumbles through the silence.
"You look like you need water… or a cold shower," he says to me with a raised brow.
Aria bites her bottom lip to hide a laugh.
Fantastic.
"Aria," Darius says kindly, offering his hand to jump off of the stage "I apologize on behalf of our fearless leader if he's being—"
"Emotionally unavailable?" she offers.
Darius chuckles. "I was going to say blunt. But that works too."
She takes his hand, and I feel something stubborn twist inside me.
Possessiveness is a stupid emotion. Especially when you are fighting your heart and mind to stay away from that person.
She exists the gym with a click of the door behind her. Leaving me and Darius alone. Darius looking at me like he caught me red handed doing something illegal.
"What?"
"I approve whatever it is going on between you two" he grins
"Nothing is happening"
"I've seen you in every emotion all my life, Lucas. But this" he looks me up and down "I've never seen you so unsure and sure at the same time"
"Whatever that means" I strike off his remarks.
"That means exactly how you're behaving with her. You try to be hard and despise her but your body language betrays you, my friend. You are clearly attracted to her. I think she knows that too"
"I'm not attracted to her." I walk off to the lockers. End of the discussion.
I take a cold shower. Stand in the shower until I completely let off the steam she caused. Darius confirming it. it's only a matter of time everyone starts noticing it too. I cannot let that happen. She cannot affect me like this, I cannot allow this. What is happening to me.
Aria
Lucas Hayes is the most confusing man on the planet.
One minute he's looking at me like I'm trouble wrapped in spandex — accurate — and the next he's staring like he wants to drag me into a dark corner and ruin me.
Then he puts up walls again.
If he thinks that's going to make me quit… he clearly hasn't met me.
Darius gives me a bottle of water and sits beside me while I wrap my hands again.
"So you want to learn to defend yourself?" he asks.
"Yes," I say quickly. Then, quieter, "And… I want to feel strong."
His eyes soften. "That's a good reason."
Better than "chaos is my love language."
Across the gym, Lucas is punching a bag like it personally offended him. Every strike jolts his muscles, sweat running down the curve of his throat. I should not be staring.
Darius notices. "Careful with that one," he murmurs.
I raise a brow. "Why? You think he's dangerous?"
"I think he's wounded," he says. "And people like that are hard to let go of."
My chest squeezes around something hot. I don't want to let go before I even have him.
"So, what do I do?" I whisper.
Darius smiles gently.
"Make him believe you're worth the risk."
"Am I a risk"
"For him."
"Ouch"
"Don't take any offense. He has every reason to"
"Any suggestions on how to do that" I ask, looking at him while finish wrapping my hands. "I take it you are on my side" I take a sip of the water.
"I am. I suggest you work your magic on him. Be yourself."
"Oh, I've been myself all along. He hates it. He Resents it." I emphasize on the resent part to make it dramatic.
He chuckles and says "The way I see it, he loves it"
"Do you think so" I ask looking back at Lucas over my shoulder.
He just smiles and walks away without saying anything. I take it true, whatever he said, trusting the fact that he is Lucas's best friend.
I look back at Lucas punching the bag more hardly. As if it was his enemy. I walk up to him. Hands on my hips.
"Leave the poor thing, will you?" I say
"Ready for your practice" he replies catching the bag mid swing.
"I do"
Darius words ring in my head. "He is wounded". I wonder what happened. Could I ever be the salvation, a balm for his wounds.
I was lost in thoughts when a padded glove hit my shoulder, bringing me out of my thoughts.
"Earth to Aria" Lucas grumbled.
"Sorry" I said and took my attacking stance.