I have a history of picking the wrong guy. Gay? Player? Momma€s boy? Check, check and check. Now I can€t stop fantasizing about one of the customers at the coffee shop I work at between classes. It€s just a harmless crush, right? It€s not like I ever see this guy outside of the coffee shop. It€s not like I€m going to see him while attempting to get birth control at the student clinic. While wearing a paper gown. While sitting on an exam table. Because he€s the doctor. Shoot. Me. But what if, for once, the man I€ve had the dirtiest, most scandalous fantasies about turned out to be everything but wrong?