Never beg. Never grovel. Nice guys wind up in the friend zone.
I wrote the book on scoring with hot women - literally.
I'm the patron saint of players, the Tony Robbins to clueless guys.
My rules are rock-solid and my men's style empire spans the globe.
Then she walks in.
My high school nemesis.
The one who inspired the most important rule of all—Love ruins a man. Just walk away.
Were my rules made to broken? Or are they about to break me?