It was him. Conway Gentry.
The boy I’d known years ago – the one who’d loved my best friend and was left shattered by her death – was now a macho adrenaline junkie, an arrogant, womanizing hustler.
There was not a single good reason on this earth to fall for him.
But no one told my heart that.
She didn’t seem like my type.
Snobby, boringly mainstream and above all, tied to a part of my past I’d kill to forget, I should have just had my fun with her and moved on.
Instead I kept coming back. I couldn’t help it.
I’ve known for a long time that if you live fast you crash hard.
But I also know that’s nothing compared to what love can do to you.