I first met the ridiculously handsome Danny Diamond at a party some fifteen years ago. He had brilliant blue eyes, a sexy smirk, and a muscular body.
We had a crazy, instant connection.
So, I did what I had to do-threw myself in his direction and kissed him.
And that kiss ... was like a freaking fairy tale.
At least it was until he stopped it because he was married.
In my tipsy state, I replied with something cheesy like, “Don't promise me forever, just promise me tonight.”
And after a kiss like that, who could blame me?
Clearly, I wasn't thinking straight because I would never sleep with a married man. But in that moment, I kind of wanted to.
I thought maybe we could be friends instead, but he couldn't. He was a hotshot rookie quarterback with a wife and a new baby.
He was living his dream.
Right now, my life is not perfect. Sure, I'm an award-winning actress, and everyone thinks I've got this glamorous celebrity life-that is, until my longtime boyfriend is caught on video in an Amsterdam brothel, and our love becomes tabloid fodder.
And that brings me to where I am now-hiding out from the paparazzi and staring at a shirtless, sweaty Danny, who is drinking milk from a carton at his neighbor's house.
I want to impulsively kiss him again because he looks even better than I remember, but I don't.
Because I don't know that his marriage is over.
Or that he feels the same way about me.
Or that we might actually have a shot at that forever kind of love.
