Gorgeous Rotten Scoundrel Read Online Free PDF

another planet?"
    Mindy laughed. "I told him you were doing well and I made it clear you are doing wonderfully without him. What a shit stain, huh? His date is two tables away and he's trying to dig intel about you from me. Some people never change. He is exactly the same Kenny we all knew from high school, all that's changed is the 'esquire' attached to him name."
    Mindy's arrogant asshole theory was right, I had a track record of jerks. I don't know what it was, maybe naiveté and a lack of a father figure, but I would pick these guys who were real priceless gems . Always hot (probably my first issue there) and they knew it. They were usually cocky and super-extroverted, life-of-the-party types. I think my more introverted personality gravitated towards those people, because they easily drew me out of my shell. The thing is, hot, cocky, extroverted guys are also usually pussy magnets. And that usually means cheating, or forgetting to call for a few days and then suddenly reappearing when they were in your neighborhood, or professing their love for you one minute and going MIA the next.
    But those people were short term relationships and that was all well and good. I never thought I was going to marry those guys, I figured I would kiss a few frogs and then land the prince. I thought that I had finally broken the cycle at one point, and that was who Mindy was really referring to: Kenneth Hull. I thought Kenneth, well I called him Kenny, was different. But I was a stupid, stupid little girl. See, he was all of the things I just described, but the difference was we were friends. I had known him since high school. Ironically, I had become friends with him when this other girl I knew begged me to speak with him on her behalf when they had broken up their very serious and intense two-week relationship ( high school bullshit ).
    We ended up talking on the phone for hours and hit it off. The thing was, he was gorgeous, and popular, and wealthy. I was still working my way out of the awkward phase, and studious, and lived on a budget (the insurance money my parents had left behind, administered by my grandmother) so I didn't have all the pretty outfits and makeup. Don't get me wrong, I was comfortable, but in NYC, circles of friends can vary wildly when it comes to income levels. My competition was early bloomers with Bebe obsessions and Sephora credit cards.
    Through all this, I was Kenny's shoulder to lean on as he hopped from one girl to the next, sometimes several at once. And I was pretty much a ball of hormonally-charged teenage love. I obsessed over him, but never had the guts to tell him how I felt.
    Then he went to UPenn and we drifted away for a bit, keeping in touch online and trying to catch up during the holidays. It was the summer after he graduated when he took a job at a huge law firm in NYC, that we became reacquainted. By this time, I had nice clothes, and my curves had filled out, and I walked with confidence. I had dated plenty of guys and was no longer afraid of penises and boys and whatnot.
    One night, I came over to his place for dinner, and well, you know: we bumped crotches.
    Then, all those feelings surged back up. I became that supercharged teenage version of myself again. I never had closure with Kenny and I felt vindicated that I landed the guy all the other girls tried to get. I was different, we were friends , and he had known me so long. I thought his past behavior was irrelevant, I thought I was somehow the exception.
    We dated for two years, and when he proposed to me, I said yes. I had won.
    I considered myself to be a somewhat decent judge of character, that I could spot a complete and total scumbag. Like when I casually dated my usual type of asshole, I knew deep inside he was a jerk and wasn't surprised when he turned out to be one. Maybe hurt, but not surprised. But with Kenny, I was blind, blinded by my love and arrogance to think that guys like him change for anyone. That I was special enough to