Okay, I need to rant about something. Henry Beckett gets dumped by his boyfriend for being overweight, and his solution is to JOIN A GYM. Not eat ice cream in his pajamas for three weeks like a normal person. Not rage-text his ex at 2 AM. He voluntarily walks into a gym. As someone whose primary form of exercise is chasing a toddler who's somehow gotten ahold of a Sharpie, I found this both aspirational and deeply unrelatable. But also? I couldn't stop listening.
I started this one during Sophie's nap on Monday. Finished it by Thursday afternoon sitting in my car in the garage, tears rolling down my face, with a cold cup of coffee I'd forgotten about two hours ago. Seven hours and forty-six minutes. That's practically a weekend read for me.
Henry Beckett Made Me Want to Fight His Ex in a Parking Lot
Here's what N.R. Walker does that gutted me - Henry's internal monologue isn't just "I'm insecure." It's specific and ugly and real. The way he catalogs every bite of food, the way he assumes every laugh in a room is directed at him, the way he genuinely cannot fathom why someone who looks like Reed would even talk to him. I've never struggled with my weight the way Henry has, but that voice? That "I'm not enough" voice? Every woman I know has some version of it. The book doesn't just tell you Henry has low self-esteem. It puts you inside his head until you're sitting there going "HENRY. BABY. YOU ARE WORTHY OF LOVE" at a red light while the person in the next lane stares at you.
And Reed. Oh, Reed. The personal trainer who's sick of dating guys who only care about six-packs and protein macros. He wants someone who makes him laugh, someone who cooks for him, someone who sees HIM. The dynamic between them - Henry bringing Reed homemade meals while Reed tries to get Henry to do one more set of squats - is so genuinely sweet it made my teeth hurt. Not in a saccharine way. In a "these two idiots clearly belong together and everyone can see it except them" way.
Joel Leslie and That Australian Drawl Though
I've listened to Joel Leslie before and liked him fine, but this performance is something else. His Henry is all nervous energy and self-deprecating humor - you can hear the guy mentally spiraling in real time. But when he switches to Reed, he drops into this deep, lazy Australian drawl that is... look. I'm a married woman with three children and a minivan. But that voice made me understand things about myself.
The comedy timing is what really sold it. There's this running bit where Henry describes gym equipment like he's narrating a nature documentary about dangerous predators, and Leslie's delivery is so perfectly deadpan that I actually snort-laughed during school pickup line. Emma asked me what was funny and I said "nothing, mommy's just reading" which is technically not a lie.
What I really appreciated is how Leslie handles the emotional scenes without going melodramatic. Henry's vulnerability could easily tip into whiny or pathetic in the wrong narrator's hands. Leslie keeps him grounded and likable even when Henry is being his own worst enemy. You root for this guy because he sounds like someone you know. That same feeling - rooting hard for a messy, lovable person who can't quite see what everyone else sees - is exactly what kept me up way too late with Delilah Green Doesn't Care, which has that same grounded emotional honesty underneath all the humor.
The Formula That Works Because It's Not Pretending to Be Something Else
Let me be honest. You know where this is going. You know they're going to get together. You know Henry's going to learn to love himself. You know Reed is going to be the one who helps him see what everyone else already sees. Not groundbreaking, but sometimes you don't need groundbreaking. Sometimes you need a book that wraps you in a warm blanket and says "good things happen to good people and love is real."
The body positivity angle is handled well - it's not preachy, it's not an after-school special. It's woven into the love story naturally. Reed doesn't "fix" Henry. Henry doesn't magically become a different person. The gym stuff is almost secondary to the real work, which is Henry learning that his worth isn't measured in pounds.
At under eight hours, this survived 47 pauses and still made sense every single time I picked it back up. The plot is straightforward, the characters are distinct, and the pacing is tight enough that I never felt lost after a toddler interruption.
Who Gets This Recommendation (and Who Doesn't)
If you want dark and angsty, this isn't it. If you need explicit spice on every other page, look elsewhere - the mature content is there but it's not the focus. But if you want a warm, funny, genuinely sweet romance with a narrator who absolutely crushes it? Car time approved. My book club would love this if I ever have time for book club again.
Satisfying ending - exactly what I needed after the week I've had. And I didn't ugly-cry at school pickup. Just a little misty. That's growth.
