“Hard pass.” That’s what the last girl I slept with said when she got her first sober glimpse of me. She laughed, walked out of my penthouse—and I never saw her again. It doesn’t matter that I’m a rich…
She’s known it since third grade, when her first crush blew a spitball into her hair, and a decade-long string of bad dates, boring sex, and abysmal morning-afters has…
It took me years to get over my fiancé sleeping with another woman. I thought my luck with men had finally turned around until I walked in on my new fiancé with my maid-of-honor.
