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If the billboard doesn’t work out, marry Jackson . . .
That’s what my billboard said, all because I lost a bet I didn’t think I would lose. I mean, who finds true love advertising themselves on a billboard?
My billionaire best friend, that’s who. What started out as a game has quickly become my nightmare. I haven’t dated the same woman for more than a week since high school, and now I’m supposed to get to know and marry someone in a month?
It’s not going to happen.
The only reason I agree to stick it out is because of the unexpected consequences of my playboy persona. When the applicants start rolling in, they aren’t from who I expect. Women I’ve dated and burned in the past are flooding my inbox. They’re on a mission to destroy me. The only thing that can save my reputation is my past, but I’m not sure I’m ready to relive those demons.
My best friend’s intervention better work, because player is the only label that has successfully protected my heart.
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