I should have never slept with him.
He's broke.
Bad for me.
And obsessed with getting into my pants.

It doesn't help that he's insanely hot, covered in tattoos, and knows exactly where to find all my sweet spots.

As each of my dating failures gets progressively worse...
Phil is always there to catch me when I fall.

I have to wonder if I'm in bad boy heaven or single woman hell.

We're just friends. We've always been just friends.

Is there really a chance at something more?