Garren’s shirt hit the floor. He didn’t bother with music this time. The empty gym was quiet, just the sound of his fists landing against the heavy bag in steady rhythm.

His body moved on instinct. Fast, controlled hits. Elbow tucked. Feet planted.

Every breath was sharp. Every strike was clean.

It was the only time his head ever felt clear.

[Upstairs – Observation Office]

Lydia Voss watched him again.

She didn’t mean to. She just wanted to finish the file logs for the afternoon clearance assessments. But he was there. Again. Earlier than scheduled.

He worked the bag like it owed him something. Efficient. Focused.

His body was built—no fluff, no show. Broad shoulders, tight core, visible muscle tension across his back. There was a scar just under his ribs. She noticed it yesterday.

Today she was staring.

She pulled back from the glass.

Get a grip.

She didn’t watch students like this. She was a professional. She’d handled varsity athletes, even sponsored fighters before.

But none of them looked at her the way he did.

And none of them were Wolfe’s son.

[Training Floor – Later]

Garren wiped sweat from his chest and tossed the towel around his neck. He knew she was watching.

She thought the glass made her invisible. It didn’t.

She looked away too fast when he glanced up yesterday. It was enough.

You want to keep watching?
I’ll give you something to watch.

He walked to the pull-up bar, slow and deliberate. Gripped it. Pulled. Controlled rise. Controlled descent.

Not a sound.

Fifteen reps. Twenty.

At thirty, he dropped.

He didn’t look up again.

He didn’t need to.

[Later – Health Wing, Campus Infirmary]

“Report for baseline vitals,” the message said. “Instructor Voss, 3:00 p.m.”

He arrived at 2:45.

She was waiting.

“Wolfe,” she said, not looking up. “You’re early.”

“Didn’t want to be late.”

She motioned to the exam bench. “Take off your shirt.”

He did.

She didn’t comment.

Not out loud.

She checked his vitals. Pulse. Blood pressure. Eyes. Reflexes.

Every touch was clean. Precise. But her hands didn’t feel as steady today.

He noticed.

She placed a stethoscope against his chest.

Her fingers brushed the scar below his collarbone. He didn’t move.

“That from a blade?” she asked, too casually.

“Sort of.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means yes.”

She exhaled softly. “You should’ve had stitches.”

“Didn’t need them.”

She lingered. Too long.

The stethoscope lowered, slow. Her eyes followed the faint white line down his side.

“You have more,” she said.

“Want to see them?”

She looked up, startled.

He didn’t smirk. He didn’t tease. Just held her gaze.

She pulled her hands back and stepped away.

“You’re medically cleared,” she said quickly.

“I assumed.”

He didn’t leave right away.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked.

She blinked.

“I was fifteen. Got dragged out of here like a criminal. You were in the hallway. Didn’t say a word.”

Lydia froze.

“You looked the other way.”

Her expression cracked.

“I was a school nurse,” she said. “They told us to stay out of it.”

“I’m not mad,” Garren said. “Just interesting that now you can’t stop looking.”

That hit. She turned her back.

“We’re done.”

He walked to the door, paused.

“See you tomorrow?”

“There’s no appointment.”

He didn’t answer. Just left.

[Evening – Lydia’s Apartment, Off-Campus]

She poured a glass of wine and sat on her couch. The room was quiet. Too quiet.

She hated this.

She shouldn’t be thinking about him.

Not his body. Not his scars. Not how steady his voice was.

But it kept playing in her head. The way he stood. The way he looked at her. Calm. Unshaken. Like he already knew what she’d do.

She took another sip.

Her hand drifted lower.

“Just once,” she whispered.

She closed her eyes.

It wasn’t just his body.

It was him.

And she wasn’t going to sleep tonight.

[Next Morning – Campus Grounds]

Garren sat under the bleachers behind the gym, eating protein and checking class schedules.

His phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

“You’ll be late to Lit. Room 3B. – A.W.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Aria Wynn.

She was already in his business.

You’ll get yours too.
But not before the nurse breaks.

He deleted the text and went back to his food.

He had time.

[Later That Afternoon – Main Campus]

Garren walked into the lecture hall a few minutes early.

Room 3B was clean, white, and overpriced—glass walls, chrome lights, leather seats. Only a few students were inside. Aria Wynn sat in the third row, tablet open, fingers moving fast across the screen.

She didn’t look up.

He took the seat beside her without asking.

She paused.

“You’re late,” she said without turning.

“I’m early.”

“You were going to be late. I texted you.”

He glanced at her. She still didn’t look.

Her hair was sharp and short, tucked behind one ear. Black, with a thin red streak. Buttoned blouse, tight skirt, no jewelry. Strict and polished, like she wanted everyone to know she was better than them.

Arrogant. Calm. Pretty.

Another one who thinks she’s in control.

“I didn’t ask for reminders,” he said.

“I didn’t ask to be partnered with a returning legacy.”

She finally looked at him.

Her eyes were cool, unreadable. But her gaze lingered longer than it should have. Down his neck. Past his collar.

She noticed the scar. Didn’t comment.

“I looked up your record,” she added. “Academic expulsion. No transcript.”

“I’m sure that’s illegal.”

She didn’t smile. “Everything at Ravenscar is illegal. Just depends who you’re sleeping with.”

Sharp.

He leaned back in his seat, stretching one arm along the chair beside her.

“Is that a warning or a confession?”

Her eyes flicked to his arm. He was close now. Not touching—but nearly.

“Just a prediction,” she said, returning to her tablet.

[Meanwhile – Infirmary Office]

Lydia Voss tried to focus.

She’d locked her office door after her morning rounds. Didn’t want to be disturbed.

But her mind wasn’t cooperating.

She kept replaying that moment—the stethoscope against his chest, her fingers brushing that scar. His voice. Calm. Confident. Dangerous in how quiet it was.

“You can’t stop looking.”
Damn it.

She hadn’t wanted to. That was the worst part.

And now he knew it.

Her body still reacted to the memory. She shifted in her seat, annoyed with herself. This wasn’t some passing crush. She hadn’t reacted to a student like this in years. She didn’t break protocol. Not with athletes. Not with board sons.

But he wasn’t like the others.

And he knew that too.

[Back in Class – End of Lecture]

The professor dismissed the students. Aria stood fast and packed up. Garren didn’t move.

She walked past him, but paused.

“You’re not as dumb as I expected.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. I said you’re not as dumb.”

He stood.

“Careful, Wynn,” he said, voice low.

“Of what?”

“You’re watching me the same way she does.”

Aria narrowed her eyes. “Who?”

“The nurse.”

Her jaw tightened. She turned and left without another word.

[Evening – Training Center]

The gym was quiet. Garren liked it better that way.

He taped his hands and hit the bag again. Slower now. Each strike was deliberate. He didn’t need cardio. He needed control.

After twenty minutes, he stripped his shirt and walked toward the showers.

As he passed the side office window, he glanced up.

She was watching again.

This time she didn’t move away.

He didn’t stop.

He just kept walking. Naked from the waist up. Covered in sweat. Scarred and calm.

[Upstairs – Lydia’s POV]

Lydia didn’t blink.

She should’ve stepped away. Pretended not to see.

But she didn’t.

Her mouth felt dry. Her fingers clenched the pen tighter.

Don’t.

He walked past the window like he knew she was there.

Like he wanted her to see.

She didn’t look away.

Not until he was gone.

Then she shut the blinds.

“Shit…”