Co-Wrecker, an all new sexy, laugh out loud romantic comedy is available now!
Co-Wrecker by Meghan Quinn Publication Date: March 23, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Photographer: Lauren Watson Perry
I wanted to be friends — I would have even settled for her seeing me as anything but a nerd — but there was no getting through. So just like any hard-headed, red-blooded man out there, I made up my mind.
I’d make my coworker fall for me.
I’d like to say it was simple, but like every other epic love story, all it took was one drunken night and a lot of naked courage to get the girl. For a moment, at least.
Love with a coworker is never simple, especially since Sadie’s trying to keep us on the low. Not to mention her persistent ex-boyfriend who won’t leave her alone. But I’ve never been good at giving up, and I don’t plan to start now.
The whole thing is a recipe for a rocky road, but I plan to eat the whole gallon, no matter how bad the brain freeze.
I immediately liked Andrew. I thought he was positively adorable. Naive, but adorable. He definitely had the nerdy hot vibe, which isn't normally an immediate draw for me but it worked here. I appreciated his pursuit of Sadie-even when she clearly wanted nothing to do with him.
Sadie was a bit harder for me to connect with. It took me longer than I expected to get into her head and understand where she was coming from so I spent part of the book not loving her. I thought she was ok, but I didn't know if I wanted her with Andrew right away. She did win me over and I really appreciated her struggle where she was coming from.
There were times when the secondary characters got in my way a bit. The nicknames threw me off too a little; I'm used to getting the nicknames for people after meeting them but that was easily gotten over. I'm a former waitress so I appreciated the accurate representation of what working in the restaurant world is like.
Overall this book did make me laugh. I really liked Andrew and Sadie grew on me and I definitely liked them together. If you're looking for a funny romcom with a college setting, I recommend giving Co-Wrecker a try.
Knowing I will probably regret this, I lift from the freezer, ice cream scraper in hand, and jerk toward Sadie just in time to slip on some melted ice on the floor shooting me across the fountain and straight into Sadie. But not just Sadie; straight into her chest—her billowing, womanly chest. It’s a satisfyingly soft cushion for my head but from her instant outrage, I’m going to guess she’s not keen on me using her breasts as a pillow. “What the hell are you doing?” she asks, trying to back away, difficult when I’ve got her pinned against the counter. Fumbling to get some kind of grasp on my falling body, scraper still in hand, I give her a bit of motor boat—not on purpose—and muffle in her breasts, “I’m sowwy.” “Get off me.” “I’m twying,” I say, finally getting a grip on the counter behind her and standing tall. Glasses askew, hat on the floor, and a smothered feeling on my face, I straighten my apron and clear my throat. “My apologies.” Her friend is laughing, hand on her stomach, as I push my glasses back on my nose. “Although, I’m grateful for your sturdy bosom for catching my fall. It might have been a twisty straw to the eye, and I’m not sure my glasses would have held up on such an impact.” Sturdy bosom? Shit, Andrew, don’t fucking say words like bosom. And for the love of God, don’t say a woman has a STURDY bosom. Say words like tits. Tits are more manly. “Tits,” I mutter. “Excuse me?” Sadie has the look of horror on her face. Fuck, did I say that out loud? “I think he said tits, Sadie,” her friend cuts in, thumbing through the straw holder. Yup, I said tits out loud. “I heard him, Smills,” Sadie mutters under her breath. Glaring at me, looking for an answer, I shrug my shoulders, because I have nothing. No way of digging myself out of this one. Funny how your brain can literally stop working the minute you need it the most. Come on, old fella, kick it into high gear. Come up with something witty, something snarky, something that will put a Band-Aid over this rather raw and embarrassing incident. But, good fuck. I just had my face in her chest. What man could come back quickly from that? “Well . . .” Sadie has her arms crossed over her bosom, waiting for an answer. No. Her arms are crossed over her breasts. Shit. Shit. Nerves crawl up the back of my neck, igniting my ears into lava levels of heat. Crap. Just say anything. Clearing my throat, I pat her shoulder and say, “Sturdy tits.” And here I thought it couldn’t get any worse, at least my hand didn’t pat down her breast to see if her nipples were made of steel, or to see if her areolas consist of chain-link mesh. You have to look at the positive.
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