Everyone kept telling me this book was the perfect rom-com. Light, fun, easy. And honestly? I almost didn't pick it up because "perfect rom-com" usually means forgettable fluff that I'll mix up with three other books by next month.
I was wrong. So wrong.
The List That Hooked Me
Chloe Brown has a "Get a Life" list after a near-death experience, and look - as someone who makes lists for my lists, I felt seen. But here's what got me: she's chronically ill. Like, actually chronically ill, not "movie sick" where you cough once and look pretty. Talia Hibbert writes chronic pain and fatigue in a way that made me pause my audiobook in the school pickup line and just... sit there for a minute. Chloe has to plan around her body. She has bad days. She pushes through when she shouldn't and pays for it later.
This isn't a sad book though. That's the magic trick. It's genuinely funny - I snort-laughed during nap time and almost woke Sophie, which would have been a disaster - but it doesn't pretend disability is quirky or inspirational. It just... is. And Chloe is still messy and awkward and trying to have meaningless sex with her hot handyman neighbor. As one does.
Adjoa Andoh Made Me a Believer
I'd heard some people found the character voices shrill. And I get it - distinct voices can go either way. But for me? Adjoa Andoh nailed it. Her Chloe is dry and a little bit posh and trying so hard to be casual about everything. Her Red is gruff in this way that's clearly covering up softness. The socio-economic accent differences between them actually add to the story instead of feeling like a gimmick.
The British accents helped too. There's something about hearing "bloody hell" delivered with proper exasperation that just hits different at 7:45 AM while you're sitting in the carpool lane.
I will say - if you're sensitive to explicit scenes, heads up. There are some. I may have had to pause during one particularly steamy moment because a mom I know knocked on my car window to chat. That was... a moment. But the scenes aren't gratuitous. They're actually pretty important for Chloe's character arc and her relationship with her own body. (Yes I'm defending the spicy scenes. No I won't apologize.)
The Slow Burn That Paid Off
This is not a fast book. At almost 11 hours, it takes its time. Red and Chloe circle each other, misunderstand each other, have genuinely awkward conversations that made me cringe in the best way. There's a section in the middle where they're both being stubborn idiots and I wanted to shake them both.
But here's the thing - it survived my 47 pauses. I'd come back after dealing with a toddler meltdown or helping with homework or whatever chaos was happening, and I could slip right back in. The pacing is steady enough that you don't lose the thread, but engaging enough that I actually looked forward to my car time.
The ending is satisfying. Not in a neat-bow-tied way, but in a "these two weirdos figured it out" way. I may have gotten a little misty-eyed. Not full ugly cry, but close. Worth it though.
Who This Is (and Isn't) For
If you want a romance that's actually about something - disability, class differences, learning to accept help, making art - this is it. If you want pure escapism with no feelings, maybe look elsewhere. This one sneaks up on you. Skip it if you need fast pacing or prefer fade-to-black romance.
Perfect for multitasking moms who need something smart but not homework-level difficult. Cutting Season has that same smart-but-accessible vibe—mystery with real emotional weight. My book club would love this (if I ever have time for book club again). I'm already eyeing the next Brown sisters book.
Mom's Carpool Verdict
Car time approved. Highly.
