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328 pages, Paperback
First published March 8, 2016
Sarina Bowen is the 24-time USA Today bestselling and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary fiction, including: The Five Year Lie, the True North series, and the Brooklyn Hockey series. She's the co-author of Him/Us and the WAGs series with Elle Kennedy. And more!
I chose happiness over other people’s skewed opinions and cruel judgments. I chose Wes.There was a little bit of drama and conflict in this book, but I never once doubted the love that my boys had for each other. I love the two of them and their relationship. I love the emotion, the steam, and the way they are friends first.
But now I have to hide that choice. I have to pretend that Ryan Wesley isn’t my soulmate.
It’s us.
And it’s perfect.





⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱*I still want more*⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱
I have never felt as raw as I feel right now. I’ve just discovered that falling in love has a dark side. When you’re mad at the love of your life, it’s impossible to feel joy.



Love is friendship set in fire.

“There's an old quote my mother once painted on a ceramic platter. Love is friendship set on fire. I get it now.”I loved the continuation of Wes and Jamie's story as much as the first book. We get to see them learning how to be a couple in this one and though you feel the love, their relationship is not always hearts and flowers.

It’s my biggest fear. That the success I’ve been having in my first season with Toronto will be overshadowed — or worse, forgotten — because being a gay professional athlete is the far juicier story.


I feel like all I’ve done these past couple months is lose. Lose patience, lose the ability to talk to my boyfriend, lose that indescribable ease that always existed between me and Wes.
I don’t know how to explain what’s wrong. I’ve been really unhappy, but I don’t want him to think it’s his fault.

Wes has surely left for his morning skate, and I’m relieved at the timing. Then I’m guilty for feeling relieved. And angry for feeling guilty. And annoyed for feeling angry.

My heart is pounding in my ears. Do I yell at him now? Is that the right thing to do? I don’t know what Jamie needs. If I knew, I’d give it to him.

My torture isn’t quite done, though. I crane my neck forward, smash my face against his groin and nip his pubes. I swear he’s practically grinding his dick against my neck now, so turned on he’d fuck any surface of my body. A desperate Wes is a fun Wes. I love forcing him to let go of some of that iron-clad control. One sportswriter called him: “Impenetrable. Unshakeable. With nerves of steel.”
I know better.

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Love is like friendship set on fire.



It’s us. And it’s perfect.
He slept for another hour after that, while I held his hand. Maybe it sounds dumb, but I’d never felt more useful to anyone in my life. If he woke up confused, I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone.
Then I’m guilty for feeling relieved. And angry for feeling guilty. And annoyed for feeling angry. My emotions don’t like me today.
“Fucking hell, Canning, I fucking love you so fucking much.” He sounds like he’s struggling to breathe, and when half his vocabulary is reduced to F-bombs, that means Wes is barely hanging on to his control.
He holds out a hand that I grab to stand up, and he pulls me into a hug. If I’ve ever doubted his love for me, I’m an idiot.
“Stop fucking teasing me and start fucking fucking me,” I rasp.
“Fucking fucking you? Did you really need two fuckings?”
“One’s an adverb and one’s a verb.” My voice is as tight as every muscle in my body. I’m about to go up in flames if he doesn’t make me come.
His laughter warms my thigh. “I love the English language, dude. It’s so creative.”
Slowly, subtly, Wes and I turn to catch each other’s eyes. We have the same awkward question in mind, I just know it. Did he open the wrong...
“Probably shouldna opened all those drawers,” Blake carries on, rubbing his chin. “Ya can’t unsee some of those toys. But everybody has to have his own kinda fun.”
I spent the holidays with Jamie’s family in California, and when Jamie’s mom Cindy suggested we invite my parents to fly out, I responded with five minutes of hysterical laughter, until Cindy finally chided me into stopping. Then she gave me a big hug and told me she loved me, because that’s the kind of mom she is.
Love is friendship set on fire.
