I should’ve known Tatum Taylor was nothing but a pretty little liar when I caught her trying to sneak into my concert.
After I let her into the arena, then saw her in the crowd, I couldn’t help but invite her onto the stage and take a birthday shot with her.
We spent one night together before I asked for her number and she warned me to keep my distance.
She’s engaged, after all.
Or so I thought, until we run into each other again.
Now she’s my pretty little maid, and the pain in my backside until my band goes back on tour.
Then again, I guess there are worse ways to spend my time than by burrowing under Tatum’s skin the same way she burrowed under mine before leaving me high and dry.
Pretty little liar, are you ready to play by my rules now?
