FML. I will never believe anything a man tells me, ever again.
Even if he is a 6-feet-4, hot, ripped, handsome as a movie star, filthy rich billionaire.
I was a good girl who had nothing left to lose, literally. My ex-boyfriend had stolen everything except a non-refundable plane ticket to Paris, which was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime where that deadbeat was going to propose at the top of the Eiffel Tower. So, I got on the plane without him.
After all that, it was understandable that when I started drinking at the Buddha Bar, things got a little out of hand. Luckily, a man intervened. He was so ripped that I could see every thick muscle of his abs, obliques, chest, and arms through the tight tee shirt he was wearing. He towered over the guys who were bothering me, and they backed off. I took him back to my hotel because I was full of drunken, bad decisions that night.
The last thing I needed was a man who wanted to save me when I was trying to do all the wrong things. $0.99 on Kindle.