In the bloom of youth, when your love collides with what you call pride, which side will you choose? How many years will it take before you drop your defenses and honestly admit, "I really did like you..."? And what about now? Do you still like me?
One is a playboy who loves flirting, ends up falling for his own act, and refuses to admit it.
The other is a lovestruck, proud woman with the stubbornness of a mule who can't bear to lose face.
Will they make it to the end?
And which of them will be the first to take that step?
