“I like the idea of saving to buy a place of my own or having some extra in the bank for an adventure once I figure out what kind of adventure I want to have. I see all these choices unrolling in front of me – career, travel, friends, geography – and despite things being insane and hard and messy, I don’t think I’ve ever liked myself more than I do now. It’s the strangest feeling to be proud simply because I’m taking care of me and mine. Is this what it’s like to grow up?”
This book was a ton of fun. I am generally new to the whole romance genre, because they so often seem cringey and shallow to me, but damn it I was in the mood for a rom-com! (Yay for expanding our reading tastes and getting out of our comfort zones!!) I had been interested in trying out a Christina Lauren book for a while and I am really glad I did! I gave this one 3.5 stars.
“What do you think, Samantha?” Fosco asks me. That it’s a piece of pretentious shit. That it says nothing, gives nothing. That I don’t understand it, that probably no one does and no one ever will. That not being understood is a privilege I can’t afford. That I can’t believe this woman got paid to come here. That I think she should apologize to trees. Spend a whole day on her knees in the forest, looking up at the trembling aspens and oaks and whatever other trees paper is made of with tears in her languid eyes and say, I’m fucking sorry. I’m sorry that I think I’m so goddamned interesting when it is clear that I am not interesting. Here’s what I am: I’m a boring tree murderess. But I look at Vignette, at Creepy Doll, at Cupcake, the Duchess. All of them staring at me now with shy smiles. “I think I’d like to see more of the soup too,” I hear myself say.”
This book was very odd. I went into it knowing that and looking forward to that. Based on reviews I had heard and my own high expectations, I really thought I’d love it. And yeah, I loved parts of it, but overall, I was left feeling disappointed. 3.5 stars.