When I first met Nate, I knew he was trouble. It was written all over his dangerously attractive face. He was everything fathers warned their daughters about. The bad boy with good looks. Athletic and strong, with a fancy ride and nice clothes. Too bad I didn’t have a dad when I met him. I was doomed from the start. If only he ended up being just those stereotypical things. If only that’s all there was to him; looks and football. If only he truly was bad. Then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. Maybe my lungs wouldn’t tighten with every breath I take, my eyes wouldn’t burn with every blink. Nate
...more
