Page 48 of How to Win the Girl

Yeah, no thanks.

Not knocking anyone’s girlfriends or wives, but it happens to some really great dudes blinded by the big titties and fake hair.

Don’t date with your dick, our older brother always used to tell us. And in turn, I’ve shared that wisdom with my teammates.

Some of them listen; some of them don’t.

Drew:Drake doesn’t care if you knew who he was or not. He was just happy to meet you.

Daisy:Are you joking me right now?

Drew:Joking you? Is that your way of asking if I’m serious?

Daisy:Yes

Drew:I can hear your eye rolling from here.

Daisy:That’s because the eye rolling is so intense LOL

Drew:Yes, he was happy to meet you. He’s seen your profile.

Daisy:Oh.

Daisy:He mentioned that to me.

Drew:Oh?

Daisy:Yeah, oh.

Drew:Why OH?

Daisy:IDK, he just seems…you know. Not my kind of guy.

And there it is.

I, Drake Colter, am not her kind of guy.

Impossible.

I’m everyone’s kind of guy, goddammit! People love me.

Sitting up on the weight bench, I stare at that sentence as perspiration drips down my forehead:IDK, he just seems…you know. Not my kind of guy.

Not my kind of guy: what the fuck is that even supposed to mean?

Not her kind of guy.

Me?

I REPEAT: EVERYONE LOVES ME.

Everyone!

Okay, not everyone. There are a few people who can’t stand me, but those are guys and don’t count. I’m literally the most popular fucking dude on campus—if you don’t count my twin, ’cause people consider us the same person.

Drew:What do you mean?

Please, tell me—I’m dying to know.

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