Now he knows exactly how much I’m not Tate when I’m near him. I’m only liquid. Conforming. Doing what he asks, doing what I’m told, doing what he wants me to do.
I know a lot of people love Colleen Hoover but I just find her writing so cheesy. I couldn’t get invested in either of her romances in Confess or Ugly Love. They’re just so ridiculous. They lack a realness that I need in romance and remind me more of what a person’s fantasy of the perfect guy or girl might be.
Miles acted way too perfect (if you can call it that), saying all the right things to Tate, but he sounded so fake he just made me roll my eyes.
He shakes his head. “I didn’t fall in love with you, Tate. I flew.”
Maybe some guys say things like that to their girlfriends, but I would never be able to date them because I’d be too busy laughing.
As for Tate, all she could think about was Miles. Her only interest was Miles. After she was away from Miles for two seconds, she wanted to be back with him again. She would probably die without Miles. When Miles ordered her to do something, she happily complied like an eager puppy dog.
“You look pretty, Tate.”
I want to plaster those four words on a billboard and require myself to pass it on my drive to work every day. I would never take another day off work again.
The level of obsession was ridiculous.
I can give you a hundred other books that were hotter than this. A Court of Mist and Fury. The Wrath & the Dawn. Anna and the French Kiss. Heck, the chemistry between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice was a million times hotter than this book.
The only reason this got two stars was because of the addictive pacing. I’ll admit Hoover has the talent to draw you in, but I couldn’t stand the portrayal of an unconvincing, creepy, and possessive romance that was paired with a mildly compelling plot about Miles’s past. Such a bland read.
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