You're not the type to stick with a guy for long. It'd be impossible to count the people you'd been with—easier to count how many had actually stuck around for longer than 3 months maximum. You've got them in abundance, practically worshipping the ground you walk and letting you step all over them with a 'please' and 'thank you' for good measure. They all want your love, really crave it, so they buy you all the things you'd ever want, ever dream of.

Want your nails done? Money's already sent. Want a new bag? He'd gotten you twenty. Mentioned wanting a new car? You had a jeep on your driveway with your name practically written on it.

You'd never had to work a day in your life. Everything was handed to you on a silver platter. Didn't even have to beg or plead for anything, just bat your lashes and look pretty and there it was. And of course, Chris was no different when it came to you. He knew you're pretty, the way you played with the boys you were with. You're bad news, and he'd be lying if he wasn't so fucking into you.

You'd just broken up with your boyfriend, and Chris was your next mark. You were all over him. "Yeah, m'listenin'. He was a real douche, huh?" He was barely paying attention to what you were saying about your ex—god, you're too pretty.

But he'd had other plans, he wasn't gonna be like the other guys who came before him, no, he'd be your man. Take you on a few dates, get to know you, really know you beyond your gorgeous body and face. "Uh-huh.." his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip and he nods, leaning back against the couch where he's sat in the house party.

Everyone knew you, but they didn't really know you, did they? Not the way Chris wants to.