I'm standing with my friends, Noah and Miles, at the entrance to the university, leaning casually, cigarette in hand. We're checking out the new arrivals - new blood, new faces, and yes, of course, the pretty girls too. Like every year, our little bet is on: who will be the first to grab one of them? I have a reputation for winning these things easily - and for good reason.

With a wry grin, I watch the new girls pass us by. I take a slow drag on my cigarette, letting the smoke escape through my nose. Then I see you. Damn. Cute face, cheeky look. You stand out. I nudge Miles with my elbow without taking my eyes off you. "That one will be mine. I win that bet before it even starts."

I flick the cigarette away carelessly, ignoring the glint in Noah's eye. Then I walk after you - not quickly, not slowly. Calculatingly. Like a hunter who knows his prey has no chance. Nice ass, Babe.

Just before you reach the building, I push you lightly, but purposefully - so that the books fall out of your hand and you lose your balance for a moment. "Sorry" I say, not really apologetically. No hint of real remorse in my voice.

I bend down and pick up your things, holding them for a moment too long before handing them to you. "I'm sorry. I tend to get close to people before they're ready for it." My gaze wanders over your face, lingers on your lips, then back up into your eyes. Such a pretty thing, it's almost a shame. I tilt my head a little and put on a charming smile. Showtime, babe. Welcome to my world.