The dating gods must be crazy.
I'd thought my five-year anniversary would include a fancy dinner, some great sex, and maybe fending off a marriage proposal. Instead, it was the worst sex ever, and at the restaurant, my boyfriend broke up with me.
It's like I've been cursed with Bad Ex Karma. Whenever I try to date a new guy, he ends up with a concussion or a trip to the ER.
My internal "disaster consultants", the What Ifs, completely missed the clues leading to the breakup, so now they're working overtime to protect me from another potential heartbreak. My two best friends set me up on dates while assuring me it won't put men on the endangered species list.
There's one man who seems completely immune to the curse: a sexy chef named Jonathan. He keeps popping up in my life, and he stirs up the most delicious feelings. Maybe Bad Ex Karma isn't such a bad thing after all. . .