Good Girls
I ate leftover cupcakes and cracked macarons for breakfast. I was ninety percent sure he simply ate up girls like me. I was covered in paint splatters, cake batter, and sweat the first time I met him. He was covered in badass tattoos and a smile that seemed to hold a secret I would never figure out. Rule number 1 was never, under any circumstances, fall for the man who I wrote my lease check to. So, I tucked him away in the âFantasize Onlyâ compartment of my brain and called it a day. But he didnât make it easy. He was arrogant, funny, and the biggest flirt I had ever met. Most of the time, I didnât know if I was just a game to him. If I didnât know better, Iâd say he was on a mission to ruin my life. And maybe my heart, too.