Gable Powers had all the makings of everything my father had ever warned me about: a reputation that was anything but stellar, a dirty mouth that had me shivering at the things he uttered in my ear, and a body (oh, God, that body) that was covered in tattoos, all of which added up to a solid ten-point-oh on the bad-boy scale.
The first time I met him, I instantly loathed him.