Yesterday, I couldn’t even kiss a man.
Today, I’m negotiating full-body access with Cedar Falls’ bad boy.
For science.
I’m a flavor scientist with a superhuman sense of smell and taste.
The catch? My body classifies men as hazardous materials.
Even the freshly showered ones.
So I tap out.
Open a coffee shop.
Live vicariously through my friends’ love lives.
Let Netflix handle the romance.
Then my besties ambush me with wine…
and the town’s online charity auction.
Bid for your favorite athlete.
No names. No faces. Just anonymous torsos on a roster.
I pick the finest specimen. I’m not blind.
Two thousand dollars later: Ronan May.
Our little town’s newest bad news on ice skates.
AHL winger. Billionaire.
Six-foot-four of warm skin and trouble.
When he pulls me close, I brace for the usual sensory apocalypse.
Instead—my body screams YES.
So I proposition him: a barter.
I get empirical data—of the up‑close, chemistry‑based variety.
He gets real food instead of his team’s healthy‑white‑chicken tragedy.
Ronan seals our deal with a kiss, I insist.
Baseline reading. Scientific, that sort of thing.
Then he proudly adds me to his list of bad decisions.
But the experiment stops being science
the moment Ronan May stops treating me like a hypothesis.
And I become the scientist who forgot the first rule of every trial:
Never fall for the variable.
~ Fake Date A Bad Boy—a scorching, laugh-out-loud hockey rom-com where the good girl writes the contract, the bad boy ignores the fine print, and the experiment definitely needs a safe word.
Genre: Romance
Today, I’m negotiating full-body access with Cedar Falls’ bad boy.
For science.
I’m a flavor scientist with a superhuman sense of smell and taste.
The catch? My body classifies men as hazardous materials.
Even the freshly showered ones.
So I tap out.
Open a coffee shop.
Live vicariously through my friends’ love lives.
Let Netflix handle the romance.
Then my besties ambush me with wine…
and the town’s online charity auction.
Bid for your favorite athlete.
No names. No faces. Just anonymous torsos on a roster.
I pick the finest specimen. I’m not blind.
Two thousand dollars later: Ronan May.
Our little town’s newest bad news on ice skates.
AHL winger. Billionaire.
Six-foot-four of warm skin and trouble.
When he pulls me close, I brace for the usual sensory apocalypse.
Instead—my body screams YES.
So I proposition him: a barter.
I get empirical data—of the up‑close, chemistry‑based variety.
He gets real food instead of his team’s healthy‑white‑chicken tragedy.
Ronan seals our deal with a kiss, I insist.
Baseline reading. Scientific, that sort of thing.
Then he proudly adds me to his list of bad decisions.
But the experiment stops being science
the moment Ronan May stops treating me like a hypothesis.
And I become the scientist who forgot the first rule of every trial:
Never fall for the variable.
~ Fake Date A Bad Boy—a scorching, laugh-out-loud hockey rom-com where the good girl writes the contract, the bad boy ignores the fine print, and the experiment definitely needs a safe word.
Genre: Romance
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