The Admirer Who Fought Off My Stalker Was An Even Worse Hot -

He didn’t hit me. He didn’t have to. He just said, “I broke that man’s face for you. Do you understand what that means? You owe me. You owe me everything.”

The Worse Hot is not obviously broken. He doesn’t scream at waiters or kick puppies. He’s charming. He’s competent. He saved your life, for God’s sake. But slowly, imperceptibly, the architecture of his “care” reveals itself as a cage. the admirer who fought off my stalker was an even worse hot

“For you,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I would burn the world for you.” He didn’t hit me