The execution is for shit, and I’m pissed off with myself that I gave this book so long to stop juggling puzzle pieces around in my face and create something, anything of this mess. By that point, I only finished reading to see how many more ’I hate this shit’ points this book could accumulate. Turns out… a hella lot.
If you don’t want spoilers , don’t read past this paragraph. One of the most unromantic stories ever with some of the dullest characters ever. The plot is forced in nonsensical directions. The dialogue sucks. The pacing and style is a series of fast forwards through ALL the important phases. There’s not a laugh, swoon, or cry to be had. Boring? No. It’s more like watching someone walk through a dog shit minefield and being unable to look away from the nightmare splattering everywhere.
The MMC is pissed she’s in the hospital cafeteria. Why? Who the fuck knows. And when I say pissed, he’s acting like she just kicked a baby kitten and called his mom a skank. Forced. The entire scene felt forced and beyond reason. Meet cute? Ah, no. Meet stupid.
Apparently, the FMC likes to be degraded because she screws him as a ONS after… dumb..da…dumb… she happens to encounter him at a bar later that night being even more of an unsolicited jerkwadpissturd.
The sex scene was weird and abrupt. Not hot. If a dude insulted me like that before even mesmerizing me with his carrot stick, I’d chomp it in half and leave him dip-less. This line alone would’ve slammed the brakes…
B-cups and pinches my nipples. My body heaves with desire. His lips brush my neck as he whispers, “Guess the boob job crack you made earlier today wasn’t from personal experience?” My jaw drops. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“How many women do you sleep with that you don’t even notice when you run out of condoms?” I stand and prop my hands on my hips. “I don’t see how that’s any concern of yours,” he snaps. “It’s not like this is our fucking wedding night.”
They’re both dumb as tree bark. Stupid AF question. Stupid AF answer. Not sexy times here, and not even dirty talk and stranger spankings save this shit.
Fast forward through three months of no contact, and she’s pregnant.
He’s suddenly a tame sweet and sour dick noodle. No feeling. No emotion. Limp. Yet, suddenly he’s not calling her crazy and degrading her every second. Why? Who the hell knows. It’s like he got half of a personify transplant - still an ass but wearing a bow tie to distract from the stank. There’s ZERO character development here. Zero. Nada. Not even the tiniest sliver of light at the end of a long tunnel. Nothing to explain why he was the way he was then nor now. Detached we could get, but going out of his way to be a jerk… kinda jerk… halfass jerk? Just doesn’t make sense.
Speaking of character development. These are not the voices of doctors and psychologists. Depth of cement. Tone of a barely legal goober. I fully expect someone to shout “I know you are, but what am I.”
The author LOVES the fast forward button. We go from hate sex to baby daddy reveal to this…
It’s been a week since our therapy session, and Josh and I have spent a few nights together. He’s taken me out for a couple of dinners. And we even went bowling like actual humans. Although, he got all snappy when I picked up an eight-pound ball and he downgraded me to a four-pounder that I think was meant for children. I laughed it off, but I’m getting the sense that Josh is paranoid about me hurting myself. He is overprotective to the extreme.…
Nothing I hate more than lazy writing, and this is sloth-status. There’s nothing satisfying about building up a character as an asshole for 37% of a book only to be told in a couple of off-page paragraphs how he’s done a 180•. FFS. Note you are told this, not shown this. What you’re shown is multiple personality disorder.
And there’s been no sign of the original dickholeitis ailment he had when we first met.
Whatever. He’s still a dick… he’s just not throwing out insults every other word. At the risk of sounding like a broken record… the dude is just weird. There’s nothing alphahole sexy here. He (and all his personalities and lame attempts at dirty talk) are just sticks in the mud.
There’s something about the sex scenes that just get more and more cringy for me. For one, they have a kid on the way, and both seem just completely wrapped up in the trivial BS and self-gratification. Feels like a cheesy porno trying to play at being a documentary while it secretly hopes to be a long lost episode of ER. By this point, I feel a little psychotic myself.
Her Dean dialogue kinda makes my head turn like a confused pup. Not digging it. Yet, again… it’s weird, not cute, funny, or whatever the hell the author was aiming for.
I’m assuming some of the MC dialogue is supposed to be cute, but it, too, falls flat for me. Just not my cup’a humor/cute/sexy/banter/ or whatever this is supposed to be…
My brows lift curiously. “Watch a lot of porn there, Jones?” Her cheeks flame red. “Not a lot…just the normal amount.” I cock my head as she squirms nervously. “What’s the normal amount?” She scoffs. “What are you, the porno police? Guilty as charged, officer. Better haul me in!”
The one thing the FMC and I can agree on is that the MMC is about as romantic as wet two-day old toast…
She physically recoils from me, and my face falls. “Jesus, what is your problem?” “My problem is the way you talk about me like I’m some sort of problem you need to fix.” “That’s not true.” “It’s what it feels like.”
This mofo’s character profile makes zero sense. He’s obsessed with this baby and the FMC being healthy and safe. YET, he notes how involved and connected the FMC is in the baby, and says this shit…
“Okay then.” I flinch slightly at the idea of her focusing so hard on the connection. If she’s expecting that kind of involvement from me, she’s going to be sorely disappointed.
Makes zero ^^^^ f’ing sense. How you gonna protect something that you’re not actively involved in? Is he gonna set up life bowling bumpers for the kid and hide out in the bushes? Complete nonsense.
Nothing makes sense….
The niece thing echoing his hang up - eyeroll. Once you learn the big lame aha for his disassociate complex, it really doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. Hell, that should’ve been triggering for him.
More of the being all overprotective but detached - nonsense.
He hates kids but is sitting around with her nieces verses avoiding it all - bullshit.
MONTHS of being with her wasn’t enough to transition any feelings toward her other than lust, but he finds out she helped her niece through cancer and that suddenly makes him do a 180 from stiff-arming her to calling her “baby” and making “love” to her but not feeling love for her. It’s cringy. It’s eye rolling BS that makes me want to barf. <<< Again, nonsense once the aha of why he’s so detached comes to light.
By 70%, it’s clear that EVERYTHING about this book is forced and executed in a way that makes me nauseated. From character reactions to the plot points themselves, there’s nothing natural about anything. I feel like each chapter is like a turn of Kerplunck. Not fun.
As the mother of a deceased special needs child, the cancer kid plot should have me in tears, but it didn’t. Instead, the entire cancer kids plot feels like something the author plugged in as an EXCUSE for the MCs to finally connect. It rubbed me all the wrong way. Disposable plot that’s delivered to the tune of an even weaker resolve.
Because I need to keep my eyes wide open. I need to be able to see past them. Caring about them, loving them, will distract me from what’s most important—their safety.
^^^ Is this really the big excuse? Newsflash? You don’t give AF about keeping someone safe if you don’t care about them, love them. My neighbor rides his Harley without a helmet - his business. My kid gets on a bicycle without a helmet, I lose my shit. Begs the question how many doctors and psychologists does it take to change a light bulb … clearly, more than these two.
By 75%, the MMC is back to schizo MMC yelling and pushing her away, but he’s still calling her “baby,” which apparently makes it okay that very little of this story is left and this dude can’t digest a feeling to save his life.
Of course, despite all the safety BS, we find ourselves on a party bus full of drunk “friends” at 76%. Excuse me, but I thought safety was the priority here. So, pray tell, WTF the MMC would be a-okay riding around in a drunken party bus with his almost 30 week pregnant baby mama?
Him at 78%….
She wants more out of life. She could find someone who actually loves her and wants marriage or more kids. Someone who’s not me…. I might not want a traditional life with Lynsey, but I don’t want her having it with someone else.
^ Call me crazy, but if over 75% of a book passes and the MMC hasn’t figured out he loves the FMC or not, can this really be believable on any level?
A proposal. A maybe. And yet another fast forward to a month later.
Around 80%, all hope for the FMC is lost. She’s settling for half a schizophrenic asshat. While not TSTL, she comes off desperate, pathetic, and weak. Some may stay sticking around and being content with what he offers in the hope of more is great, but I find it the furthest thing from romantic. She has a rare movement of lady balls and leaves, but she is the one who does all the work to get him to have the eye-opening moment of … ‘oh, shit, I do love you.’ ~
91% is the most f’d up moment I’ve ever read. He can’t discover love for his own unborn child. He can’t discover love for the mother of that child. AFTER MONTHS. But, what he can do is immediately discover love of his ex best friend’s replacement kid for the kid he thinks he’s responsible for killing, and transfer that feeling to discover… aha, I actually do love my own kid and his/her mom. Wtf. No. Seriously. Wtf. This ENTIRE SCENE made me vomit in my mouth.
Cue the HEA to wash the vomit down.
Overall…
A wasted hot cover on a hot mess book. Run… the aliens have landed.