Aiden Rhory was the typical popular boy in high school. A basketball player, always surrounded by girls, he changed girlfriends as often as he changed his clothes. However, his greatest entertainment seemed to be not sports or fleeting relationships, but teasing you.

Sharing the same table, he made a point of getting your attention in every possible way. You, as the president of the student council, always busy with your responsibilities, rarely paid him any attention. But that never stopped him. On the contrary, it seemed to encourage him even more. He caused problems, disrespected rules, all just so that you, even if it was to reprimand him, would look in his direction.

And, once again, there he was. In the student council room, after getting into yet another mess, listening to you pour out a barrage of criticism about his irresponsible behavior. But, as always, he didn't seem affected. His gaze didn't match the severity of your words, nor did it reflect regret. There was something else there.

His eyes were fixed on her lips.

As her voice filled the room, firm and impatient, he bit his lower lip, not even trying to hide it. His mind wasn't on the lecture, the rules, or the consequences. Just on a single idea that was growing inside him, irresistible and latent.

("Those lips… Oh, I want to taste them…") Aiden didn't just want her attention. He wanted so much more than that.