I walked down to the common room—scratch that, lounge. It was pretty neat actually—there was a flat-screen and couches all around it like a mini theater, pool tables, a foosball table, (didn't know Brits knew how to play), and—ooh, vending machines. I might grab a snack later.

People were lounging about the place, either seated on the couches engaged in gossip or milling around the pool tables. I debated which side to join—the lazy gossip girls or the staid-looking pool-playing boys. I was always comfortable around boys at school anyway so why not give it a shot? Maybe they'll let me play. Because at the moment, I wanted to avoid the girl talk particularly since it was led by—ugh, Laurel and Co. How unfortunate she had to be at Angel Lane too.

"So it's settled then?" I drew up to the pool table where I heard a couple of guys talking.

"Friday night, mate. I got permission. We can even get the barbeque out."

"Hi there!" I said sweetly, giving them one of my sweetest smiles while I tied my hands behind my back. They turned and looked at me as if I was invading their space.

"I'm Alyssa. I'm new here. I don't think we've met before," I continued, hoping to charm them and break the ice.

"Tea talks for girls are over there," one brown-haired guy said to me. "You're in the wrong place." What the flip?! This guy was a class-A misogynist! Hmph! Well, I was gonna make him regret it in the sweetest possible way. I leaned alluringly against the table, planting myself at the edge. I folded one leg over the other, letting my legs be seen to full advantage. I read in a book somewhere that guys can't resist this—they go nuts and drop their IQ points when a woman gets a little showy. And I had a lot of 'sexy leg' to show.

"Er..." the blond guy next to him swallowed speechlessly as both pairs of eyes racked my figure. Yes! It worked. I could almost tell they were salivating. I twirled a ringlet of my hair between my fingers.

"That's too bad because I was really hoping to watch you guys play," I said with a little fake pout. These guys looked like they were about to drool.

"It looks like fun... I'd love to give it a try, if you don't mind," I said persuasively. I brushed my fingers against the brown-haired guy's hand that was holding the cue stick with a feather touch. He began blinking nervously. I took a better look at him—he was pretty average; probably the nerdy type that beat everyone at classes by day and blew off steam at pool by night. He clearly didn't have much girl experience because he was falling like a ton of bricks, or maybe no one ever bothered to flirt with him. Poor guy.

"S-sure. You can give it a try." He shyly handed the stick to me with a red-faced smile. Almost instantly I felt the entire room stop and stare. It was like no one had ever dared to do this. From the corner of my eye, the 'Tea Talks' girls stared at me in depreciative silence, disbelief fixed on their faces. What, they never saw a girl hold a cue stick? Well then, might as well give 'em a show.

I lined up behind the white ball. They had sunk only a few balls so far and had left the white ball right in the middle of the table—with a direct shot to the orange and purple balls. I calculated the odds. Yeah, I could do it. Tony's pool lessons with me should pay off. And the special trick he taught should spark applause—Tony taught me how to sink two balls in one shot. It was a crowd-pleaser.

I held the stick steady—aimed—and wham! The white ball shot in a straight line towards the orange solid ball—sunk it in the right side pocket—before switching direction with a bounce off the side of the table and knocking the purple solid ball into a corner pocket. Cheers erupted around me.

"Whoo! A combo shot! You're a natural!" The blond boy whooped, admiration in his eyes. The brown-haired guy also clapped and looked pleased as he spoke.

"You just evened the score for me. Thanks."

"It was nothing," I said, batting my eyelashes. "So, you got a name?"

"Dexter. and this is Ned," he said, gesturing to the blond boy.

"Well it was really nice to meet you guys and I hope you'll let me play again with you sometime." I winked at him. He grinned goofily. Man, what a chucklehead! He didn't even realize I made him eat his words. 'Wrong place' huh? I showed him.

"How about right now?" A low, familiar, lisping drawl drew my attention. Daylen had entered the room. Every eye went from me to him. I didn't bother keeping up the flirty face with him; somehow I knew he wouldn't be fooled by it.

"You feeling lucky, hot stuff?" I asked him, cocking an eyebrow. Dexter gasped behind me.

"That's Daylen Griffith! He's the bloody reigning king of billiards!" He hissed. Apparently, the name was supposed to carry weight around here. Although he didn't impress me.

"Is that so? Why don't we put that to the test?" I challenged him in a sugary voice. A sly perk of his lips told me that he was amused. He stepped closer until he was only an inch from me. He raised an impertinent finger and trailed it across my jaw.

"Well, I wouldn't want to humiliate you in front of everyone," he replied smoothly. 'Boos!' rang out in the room. The girls no longer found their little gossip group interesting and got up and came to watch. I turned my head away from his finger defiantly.

"Oh ho, excuse you! Are you afraid I'll overthrow you, your highness?" I taunted with a smirk. Boys hooted at my reply. Daylen chuckled softly in his throat.

"Feeling overconfident, are we? Why don't we make it interesting then?"

"What, bet?" I asked. I was a little uncertain about this—not because I feared losing but if he was Bealey's nephew, he probably didn't come with a million-pound bank account. And I always played for high stakes. Like my dad says: 'big risks, bigger payoffs'. But I didn't want to rob this guy of hard-earned dough.

"Alright, fine," I said, coming to a decision. "But the stakes aren't money. That's no fun."

"What are they, then?" Daylen asked, raising a curious eyebrow at me. Damn, he looked sexy when he did that! Ahem, get a hold of yourself, Lys.

"If I win, you have to give me a ride around the courtyard—Texan horse style. Shirtless." I added with a smirk, making boys hoot and girls gasp. That should knock him off his high horse. High and mighty Daylen Griffith won't possibly agree to that. Laurel looked scandalized.

"Daylen, this is ridiculous! You're not actually going to let this debased American make a fool of you this way, are you?" she pleaded with him. I smirked because she was riled up at that. Daylen though didn't even turn to her but smiled at me in a way that made my skin shiver pleasantly.

"Deal. And if I win, you have to spend one night in my room." Okay, the noise that erupted should be illegal; the whole room whooped in wicked excitement. Daylen's scandalous proposition made even me blush a little, I can't believe he agreed! Moreover, he topped my stakes with a higher, dangerous one! Laurel made a high shrill sound in her throat. I almost wavered; that was a pretty risky bet, that was a scandal waiting to happen. And the gossip that would flare up from such a move would last a century. But I trusted my skills, so what could go wrong?

"You got yourself a deal, big boy." I shook his hand with a firm grip, my eyes glinting. I was in it to win it. And I was confident I would. He smiled at me like he knew something I didn't. He reminded me of my Peter Pan again...

"Stripes." Daylen tossed a coin to pick sides. It landed on solids so I went first after chalking my cue stick. The deal was struck and the match began.

He actually made me sweat a little, he was too damn good. But I didn't let him have the satisfaction of seeing it. He never missed a shot and had the annoying habit of sinking the most complicated almost-sure-to-miss shots. Every time he did, he would glance at me to see if I was fazed. But I would roll my eyes and brush it off.

"Pft, show-off," I muttered in his hearing range.

"Pardon?" he asked, politely raising a hand to his ear.

"Nothing. Let's end this," I said irritably. He had only that dreaded eight-ball to pocket and I still had a solid; this wasn't looking good. I bit my thumb; if I could just get a combo shot now—

"Are you going to pot it or not?" Daylen asked me with a self—satisfied smirk when I hesitated. I had to sink both my last ball and the black ball to win; both balls were opposite each other, a good distance apart. With all eyes on me, the pressure was high. The girls already started discussing in heated hushed voices the fact that I might spend a night in Daylen's room. I didn't even want to think of the rumors that would spread if that happened!

Okay Lys, you've got this. I aimed. I inhaled. I shot. The white ball whizzed across the table, knocked against my last solid ball, nudged it into a pocket, and then bounced off the table wall before boomeranging back to the black ball. I held my breath (so did everyone else) as the weak force of the white gave the black a little tap—sending it sliding off the edge of the pocket! It was in!

"Huzzah!" Ned and Dexter and nearly everyone in the room cheered as I won. Laurel looked mutinous; she glared at me with icy pinprick pupils.

"Hold on. That was a spectacular shot, but we aren't done yet." Daylen held up a hand and instantly everyone fell silent. "You only win if I have the ball left. As it is, the table's bereft of balls."

"Excuse me?" I asked, looking in disbelief at him. He smiled.

"Neither of us won and neither of us lost. It's a tie," he said, a note of triumph in his voice. I scoffed.

"Actually—yeah, that's the rule. At least, around here," Dexter said, his jaw, dropping. I frowned at Daylen.

"Wha– but that's not—" I was stupefied. No freaking way is Daylen suggesting what I think he is! Did I just win for him?

"We both have to keep our ends of the bargain. It's fair play," Daylen said and he began to strip off his jacket and t-shirt. You gotta be kidding me! Sure I get to ride his naked torso but who gave this jerk permission to look so pleased about half-losing?!

"Daylen! I will not allow you to do this!" Laurel stepped in aggressively and grabbed his arm, stopping him from going further. He pushed her hand away.

"This doesn't concern you, Laurel," He said coldly before turning to me and giving me an impudent smile.

"You want that ride or what?" He asked, walking towards the door leading out to the lower terrace. I stared at him. Okay. Might as well collect my prize. Too bad he seemed so chill about it... that might make it less enjoyable. I mean, come on, victory was only fun if you could rub it in the loser's face. And he was throwing away his dignity here! Yet he seemed okay with it.

I followed him outside with everyone in our wake. The evening was chill and I briefly wondered if it was too harsh making him take off his shirt—until I saw his body. His perfect, carved adonis-like body with geometric line tattoos etched on his shoulders and biceps. And my mouth watered. Sweet, freaking marshmallows, this guy was a heartthrob! And with that face to go with the whole package... I was transfixed by how sinfully hot he was.

"You coming or what?" He made me choke on my own breath as he got down on his hands and knees like a horse. I felt a little nervous. Was I ready for this?

I mounted his back tentatively, too acutely aware of my bare thighs pressing against the cool skin of his torso. And me in my mini skirt. Shit, this guy was making my mind wander! Did he feel as turned on as I was by this? Because all sorts of fantasies concerning him took over me...

"Better hang on tight," he said, before hoping forward. The crowd cheered with wolf whistles. At least they were enjoying the show. Getting jerked so that I almost fell off, I gasped and clung to his shoulders while my legs tightened around him—oh snap, more fantasies. Forbidden fantasies that involved me running my hands all over the rest of his body in the dark...

"Hey, I said Texan style!" I suddenly remembered. "And when I say Texan, I mean Texan."

"As in?" Daylen halted and craned his neck to speak to me. I smirked.

"You need to say 'yeehaw'!" I said, trying to keep from laughing deliciously. He sighed, but it didn't sound infuriated. He lifted his voice and did an exemplary cowboy's 'yeehaw'! Making me laugh out loud. Shoot, this was fun! I felt like Jane riding Tarzan's back only without the jungle part. I rode him around the entire terrace once, resisting the urge to say 'giddyup, cowboy'. No need to humiliate him any further. The only person who was not enjoying this was Laurel. She stood watching us with folded arms and a mutinous glare worthy of Hitler for a while before flouncing off, obviously offended.

When Daylen finally came to a stop, I got off him and watched him dress.

"Well, that was the most interesting game I've had in a while. I won't be placing bets any time soon," he said with the demeanor of someone who just did something perfectly ordinary.

"That was unbelievable! I've never seen Griffith lose to high stakes or disgrace himself in the process!" I heard the whispers around me. I have to admit, I was shocked too. He took the humiliation unusually well.

"What about Alyssa? Doesn't she have to keep her end of the bargain?" Someone called out. Uh-oh. Almost forgot about that. Daylen smiled as though pleased to be reminded of the fact.

"Yes, Alyssa, do you plan to uphold the deal honorably?" He looked so smug it was infuriating and yet so sexy at the same time. I narrowed my eyes keenly at him.

"Hell yeah, I'm no cowardly loser," I said with bravado. Inwardly though, I was a little antsy.

"Alright then. I'll see you in my room after the Freshers Ball," he said and walked inside.

"Wait, what?" I blinked in surprise. He turned around.

"You heard me. The night of the Freshers Ball. Until then," he gave a gentlemanly bow and winked at me, "I shall count the moments." Feverish whispers broke out from the crowd as soon as he left. But I didn't care, I was too busy wondering what the heck was 'Freshers Ball'. Minnie came forward looking eerily excited.

"Oh my goodness! Alyssa, are you really going to spend the night with Daylen Griffith?!" she asked. Talk about ill-mannered, asking that out loud?

"You know what that means, don't you?" Clover, Laurel's posse member asked snootily.

"What?" I retorted.

"Playboy Daylen Griffith intends to sleep with our resident American," Matilda chimed. I swallowed, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.

"Laurel's not gonna like that," Clover replied, glaring at me. "Watch it, Rosales, if you go against Laurel's wishes, you're gonna regret ever setting foot at Angel Lane." With that, they strutted off with their noses in the air. My mouth went dry as I felt suffocated. What did I just get myself into?

Oooh, burning hot! 🔥 Dang, skippy! Alyssa's having fun, are you? Hope that curveball  (get it?😏) left you on tenterhooks wanting more.

Things look like they're getting hot in the pot for Alyssa as she has a knack for attracting trouble - and trouble's name is Daylen. 😎

What's gonna happen next?  You're gonna find out. 

Note these are actual images of the angel lane dorm, btw. Thx, google.

And bonus points to you for guessing the silhouette!!!