I’ve always been the quintessential good girl. I don’t just follow the rules — I write them. As an advice columnist, I’m always telling people how to not screw up their lives.
So you’d think I’d know better than to bang some random guy in a bar bathroom.
Nope. Apparently not.
Now I’ve got even bigger problems, though. Because it turns out that wasn’t just some random guy. It was Tyler Grant. Rich. Playboy. Devastatingly gorgeous. Oh, and the publisher of my new dating advice book.
All my instincts are telling me to run like hell. It’s what I’d advise anyone else to do.
Nope. I’ve had a taste, and I’m hooked.
Now I’m calling him at ungodly hours and showing up at his house drunk and begging for sex and tacos. In other words, breaking every rule in my own damn book.
Of course, you don’t have to be an advice columnist to know a bad boy and a good girl are never going to work out. Someone’s going to get their heart broken.
And my guess? It isn’t going to be him.
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