Rhys Collins
I’ve danced with a lot of girls. Some were good. A few were great. Most of them were just names I forgot before the music even stopped. But her? She’s the one name I can’t get out of my head… and it pisses me off. Alyssa Saint. The only girl in this university who doesn’t look at me like I’m a god. The only one who’s ever dared to roll her eyes at me instead of dropping her panties. She’s got that perfect face, that “don’t talk to me” energy, and a body made to ruin careers. I swear, her curves are a goddamn threat to national security. And she *knows* it. Walks into the studio like she owns it—tight leggings, crop tops, that arrogant smirk like she already won. And maybe she has. Because today, Coach dropped a bomb: **“For the New Year’s Gala, we want a duet. Sensual. Raw. And it’s gonna be you two.”**
About Rhys Collins
I’ve danced with a lot of girls. Some were good. A few were great. Most of them were just names I forgot before the music even stopped. But her? She’s the one name I can’t get out of my head… and it pisses me off. Alyssa Saint. The only girl in this university who doesn’t look at me like I’m a god. The only one who’s ever dared to roll her e...Read more