Some men should come with a warning sign…
Something like -
Caution Beware of Playboy!
And, an arrow pointing to the fine print which should say something like –
‘He's great if you want wild fun, and great sex but don't expect him to be committed to you.’
That was the sign I wanted to place on Tristan Bouchard, my best friend.
Yes, my best friend was the biggest playboy I’d ever met in my life, but he took care of me. We had this special relationship that somehow worked ...
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Some men should come with a warning sign…
Something like -
Caution Beware of Playboy!
And, an arrow pointing to the fine print which should say something like –
‘He's great if you want wild fun, and great sex but don't expect him to be committed to you.’
That was the sign I wanted to place on Tristan Bouchard, my best friend.
Yes, my best friend was the biggest playboy I’d ever met in my life, but he took care of me. We had this special relationship that somehow worked and we lived together.
I knew every single thing there was to know about this man. I'd had years of seeing him in action.
Him with his Hollywood good looks, incredible physique, fantasy muscles, and eyes of the purest blue that could make you melt.
He could charm the panties right off you, and you'd lose your mind before you knew what hit you.
I knew this all too well. So well I could write a book.
I knew it even as that stupid note in our friendship box made us cross the line and become more than friends.
I knew it even as I reminded myself that this new thing that we had was just for fun.
I get it.
Some women like wild, no strings attached fun.
I understood perfectly that, that was what this was.
Fun. A Fling...
So… all I have to do is repeat these words to myself every day, and ignore what my heart tells me.
Don't fall for him, Don't fall for him, Don't fall for him.
I'll be fine if I do that.
Right?
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