Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
~Synopsis~
It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel wrong. It just...feels.
Then, one night leads to sex—sex between friends—which leads to an agreement. It all seems so simple—but nothing ever is.
Many layers build a person’s facade.
Look into the depths for what’s hidden within.
It’s more than water. It’s a story—a living and breathing substance beyond the reflective surface.
~Book Review~
5 Stars
Evelyn
Jane “EJ” Cunning is a senior Art History major who really wants to be an
artist but her rich socialite parents don’t exactly “support” the arts. EJ is a
bit of a free-spirit (with the exception of the suppression she suffers from
her uptight mother), speaks without filters, and changes her hair color with
the seasons. Foster “Fozzie” Blake is a senior Chemical Engineering major
completely focused on his studies. To the point he doesn’t date! He sports
comic book t-shirts and glasses, enjoys the occasional periodic table drinking
game, and dirty talks in chemical elements. (Yes, you read that right.) If it
weren’t for their shared library work study job, they’d probably never have met
since their interests are in far different fields.
But
after one drunk night at the bar (a very cute page-turning scene, btw) the
seemingly nothing-in-common pair hook up and to their surprise they’re more compatible
than they think. (Forget the Bunsen burners, this is where things start to heat
up!)
“‛That’s quite an impressive beaker you have…’” –EJ
“‛You were checking out my instrument?’” –Foster
Told
via EJ’s first person point of view, she is such a refreshing female character with
healthy self-esteem and who isn’t timid or intimidated easily.
“I’m adopting a new rule until morning. If I feels good, it is good.”
Foster
is…ah Foster. I’m completely in love with nerds after
reading this book! As a contemporary
romance hero he’s quite original with a whole new spin on the studious science
guy stereotype. He’s smart; he’s witty; he’s attentive. Foster is the all-round
good guy who knows his way around the bedroom just as well as the chemistry
lab.
“He’s making me hot and bothered. That’s what he’s doing. My wet panties are accumulating the evidence.”
EJ
and her Fozzie have some serious chemistry together (no pun intended), and they
have plenty of cute banter both as friends and friends with (exclusive) benefits.
The
author does a great job of incorporating details of each of their majors into
the story and the romance. Art and chemistry comes together in an intriguing
way that unfolds (along with the title) through the course of the story. This is a fun, light-hearted new adult steamy
romance about following your heart and standing up for your dreams.
There
is no insta-love here as the characters’ relationship develops naturally and
time wise realistically. And while they agree on a no-strings-attached
arrangement I adored how they only had eyes for each other.
When
I closed the last page I wasn’t quite ready to stop reading about EJ and Foster.
I really enjoyed them both, and I highly recommend them! Science has never been
so sexy J Heck, I might have even
tolerated chem in college if I’d have had a Fozzie of my own ;-)
~EXCERPT~
“Ow. Fuck,” I cry out in protest.
“Sorry.” His sinful mouth drops to my neck, distracting me from the recent injury. “Do you want me to get some ice?”
“Only if you’re going to get kinky with me.”
“Are you into that sort of thing?”
“Not ice. That shit’s cold.”
Foster drops us to the bed, half-falling on top of me with a mistimed and misjudged thump.
“No ice,” he confirms, righting himself a bit. “Got it.”
He removes his black frames, and I grab them from his hand before he has a chance to stash them away. I settle them over my face. The prescription on the lenses is so minor that my already drunken vision is barely distorted.
“Do I look smarter?” I ask, playfully pointing my index finger to my cheek.
“Definitely.”
Ducking his head, Foster connects his lips to the skin on my neck and then the space under my chin while slipping his hand under my blouse and over my bra-covered breast. I fumble with the hem of his shirt tucked into his pants. Then, I pull his clothing upward, and like a total amateur, I manage to get it stuck around his neck. He lets out a half-gagging, half-choking sound before rescuing me from my sloppy seductive efforts by removing the layer of fabric himself.
My hands are like magnets being drawn to his firm chest, and they connect with his comforting skin.
Skin. Skin. Skin.
Warm skin.
Toned.
Fucking sexy-as-hell and all-over-me skin.
I-want-to-feel-more-of-it skin.
My mouth runs along his collarbone.
He tastes good, too—a combination of man and mint.
Foster lifts my top over my head before dropping it to the bed, and then he reaches behind my back. I sit up to assist him in the effort of de-clothing me. He tugs at the hooks on my bra a few times.
“Fucking girl clothes,” he says, flustered, yanking at the force field of intimate apparel. “These damn hooks.”
“You can formulate a hydrogen bomb, but you can’t undo a bra?”
“The university doesn’t offer classes on this shit.”
“I’ll complain to the dean.”
Most winters, Renee can be found on the slopes of the White Mountains skiing with her family. During the summer months, she likes to spend every spare minute at the beach soaking up the sea air. All those moments in between, she is talking to imaginary characters and caring for her children.
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