Half Cocked: A dark, enemies to lovers, standalone romance
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If there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that good guys finished last. But smart women? We finished on top.
It made for a quick climax and an even quicker escape. Especially when you left ʼem zip tied to the headboard with a wink and a wave of the middle finger.
Mine wasn’t a love story. It was a cautionary tale. A field guide for exactly what not to do if you ever found yourself in my size six riding shoes. A reminder in case you needed another reason you sure as f*ck shouldn’t fall for the bad boy who promised you the world and left you with a bullet in your skull instead. Or the glorified bodyguard who thought catching a knife to a gut meant he deserved a ring. And how to not use sex and adrenaline to cope with either. Both?
Yup, my life wasn’t just complicated. It was f*cked. And so was the pretty boy with the green eyes and the greener complexion. The same one with a limp in his step and a slightly tender set of balls because he was dumb enough to stand between me and my next paycheck. Which left me to wonder how the dumb f*ck still thought I was girlfriend material.
Someone was about to learn a hard lesson. I could only hope that someone wasn’t me…