Overview

<b>Drunk-texting a grumpy soccer star?

Best worst decision of my life. </b>

Especially when the player is the sinfully handsome, foul-mouthed Holden Sanders... my new library assistant.

The benched bad boy needed an image makeover, I needed to save my job, and his star status was just what the library ordered to raise awareness for our fundraising campaign. The press can't get enough of Mr. Growly reading to kids.

It's win-win and completely platonic.

Until I need a shoulder to cry on after drowning my heartbreak in too many margaritas. I only typed that invitation to his brawny biceps and perfect pectorals for fun–I never meant to hit send. Holden isn't the kind of guy to care about tears and feelings, least of all mine. He's made it clear good girls aren't his type.

But he shows up–with his strapping shoulder, a box of tissues, and a supersized bag of Doritos.