Night Shift (Daydreamers, #1)

by Annie Crown

“Unfortunately, leaving this desk to help cranky kids with their homework isn’t in my job description.”

I think I’m damp between my legs.

“So,” he says, “Thursdays and Sundays, you party.” “Yep.” “And on Fridays, you sit behind that front desk reading porn.”

“I’ve never kissed anyone sober,” I admit, my entire face flushing with heat. Vincent’s face softens. “Then practice on me,” he offers. “I’m here. I’m all yours.”

Life is far too short to let my shot at feeling like I’m in a romance novel pass me by.

Because that’s what nonfictional men do: disappoint you.

I let my eyelids flutter closed, embracing my newest kink: being read to.

“Courted? I’m sorry, is this Victorian England?” “No, this is Starbucks.”