Never beg. Never grovel. Nice guys wind up in the friend zone.

I wrote the book on scoring with hot women - literally. 

I'm the patron saint of players, the Tony Robbins to clueless guys.

My rules are rock-solid and my men's style empire spans the globe.

Then she walks in.

My high school nemesis.

The one who inspired the most important rule of all—Love ruins a man. Just walk away.

Were my rules made to broken? Or are they about to break me?