We all know I love a fake boyfriend mm romance and this was no exception. Don’t get me wrong there were still things that Brice needed to work on, but I felt this was better written than the first in this series, Icing on the Cake.
In The Power of Love we get the story of Drew, fellow forward to Gerard on the Berkeley Shore University hockey team with an insatiable and non-discriminatory sex drive, and Jackson, quarterback on the football team who at any other school would be king of campus, but thanks to hockey he gets a little less of a star experience. They meet through Gerard and Eli’s relationship, but like them allegedly one or both of them fell madly in love with the other years ago.
I, of course, loved the premise of this novel Jackson and Drew met because Jackson is Eli’s best friend and as Eli started to hang out at the hockey house and get involved with Gerard, he tags along and they spend more and more time with each other becoming friends in their own right. Their story starts Icing on the Cake, but you don’t miss much if you don’t read it. This novel picks up after Eli and Gerard are together and the Ice Queen stirs trouble by writing a post that alleges they’re dating, they deny it but everyone leans in and they’re like let’s just fake date for a while and then break up. But tricks on them, as always, they both already have feelings for each other but don’t just talk about it.
There were things that were better about this book in the series and there were things that were worse. Brice did a good job of trimming down the excess storylines and kept the focus for the most part on Drew and Jackson. I feel like he took things too far when it came to the Ice Queen and one of the scenarios they somehow forced the hockey (and other jocks/frat) teams into.
Now don’t get me wrong, I can suspend reality with the best of them. I mean I love romance novels and so many of the scenarios are ridiculous, but this one was just too much. You expect me to believe that (condoned or not) a bunch of jocks/frat boys would agree to strip down and get in tanks with each other to body paint each other for charity? Maybe it was too much because of how into it Jackson and Drew were and seeing it from their point of view, but it sounds like all of them and the skating rink performances were basically soft core porn and I don’t know it just was a little too much to believe.
The thing about unrequited love? It leaves breadcrumbs everywhere if you know where to look. (442)
But it wasn’t all negative. As I said, Brice trimmed the story down so I felt we got to really spend the time with Drew and Jackson. We got to really understand just how deep in the closet Jackson found himself and Brice did a good job of sharing that history without going too deep into it. Same thing with Drew’s childhood and having to care for his brother, there was just enough there to give him depth and provide reasons for why he sleeps around so much and avoids relationships, but not so much that it distracts from the story.
The sex scenes were well done and overall realistic (ignoring the ridiculous public things the Ice Queen forces) and Brice walked the walk on both characters wanting to switch up positions. Something that I noted about this book that I often notice many female MM romance authors miss is the attention to detail and the focus on underwear.
I can’t tell you how many times in a female written MM romance that characters will be getting hot and heavy and one has briefs on to start but then when they’re coming off they’re all of a sudden boxers or boxer briefs. It’s a tiny detail but it catches me EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. and I get annoyed. Brice, may have taken it a little far, but I appreciated the dedication to underwear and in particular tighty-whities. It just made me laugh and added moments of levity in this book and the next one that showcased his humor and attention to detail really well. The quote below was good because it rode the line between sexy and funny, but the scene when Jackson first tries them on was even funnier (it’s in the additional quotes):
Jackson presses close to my side in nothing but a pair of . . . holy shit.
‘Are those tighty-whities?’ I can’t keep the grin off my face. His face goes red, but he stands his ground.
‘Ryan was right, okay? They’re comfortable once you get used to them. And they’re . . . supportive.’
Supportive. Right. What they are is fucking obscene, the white cotton clinging to every curve and bulge, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. The way they hug his ass threatens to kill me. I want to drop to my knees right here and worship him through that thin fabric, trace the outline of his cock with my tongue until he’s begging. (422)
Finishing this novel got me excited for the next one, Written in the Stars. It was easy to tell that Oliver, the captain of the hockey team was going to get his romance, but I wasn’t sure who the protagonist would be and this one reveals it pretty early in this novel and it’s Jackson’s roommate, Ryan. There’s just so much adorableness and very much jock/nerd, childhood friends, second chance romance. (Spoiler alert, it’s as cute as I wanted it to be and Brice continues to improve with streamlining and paring down.)
Recommendation: Jackson and Drew were adorable and meant for each other and this was the fake boyfriend romance I needed at the moment. Shockingly, I enjoyed this one more than Icing on the Cake, the first in the series. That is so rare when it comes to second books that I was a little caught off guard. Brice did a great job of toning the body humor down significantly and streamlining the stories of his protagonists, while still keeping the plethora of minor characters engaging and intriguing. Can’t wait to read Ryan and Oliver’s story in Written in the Stars.
Opening Line: “Freshman orientation day.”
Closing Line: “It’s going to be written in the stars.” (Whited out to avoid spoilers, highlight to read.)
Additional Quotes from The Power of Love
“‘You good?’ Kyle asks, pulling off his mask. His face is screwed up in a slight expression of concern, which for Kyle is a rarity.
‘Yeah,’ I lie, because what else am I supposed to say? That sometimes I still wake up in a cold sweat, thinking I hear my brother crying? That I check my bank account obsessively, terrified of seeing zero? That every time someone says I’m cocky or arrogant, I want to scream that it’s armor. That underneath, I’m still that scared little kid trying to hold his family together?” (24)
“Ryan studies me with hazel eyes that never stop analyzing. ‘It’s hardly a bonding experience. Jackson needed sustenance after his workout, and I required a change of scenery from our dorm room.’ His voice has a formal quality, as if he had learned English by reading Jane Austen novels.” (30)
“The white briefs have transformed my lower half into something obscene. My package sits front and center, cradled in cotton, making it look approximately three times its normal size. I can see the outline of everything—and I do mean everything. I turn slightly, craning my neck to check out the back view, and my brain short-circuits. My ass. My ass looks incredible. Each cheek is lifted and cupped as though the briefs were custom-designed by some sort of ass architect. The cotton hugs the curve of my glutes, creating this rounded, perky situation that I’ve never seen on my own body before. The waistband sits below the small of my back, framing everything perfectly. If I were a narcissist—which I’m not, I swear—I’d seriously consider fucking my own ass after seeing this.” (51)
“This is why I fuck around. Because wanting someone you can’t have hurts worse than any childhood trauma. At least with random hookups, I control the narrative. I’m the one who leaves. I’m the one who doesn’t get attached. But Jackson? He makes me want impossible things.” (83)
“I choke on nothing. ‘You think my ass looks like ice cream?’
‘Vanilla. Or maybe butter pecan when you’ve gone tanning.’ He says this completely seriously, as though he’s put actual thought into what ice cream flavor my ass resembles.
‘Nathan thinks it’s more like cookie dough, but—’
‘Hold up. You guys discuss my ass?’
‘We discuss everyone’s ass. It’s the Hockey House. Last week, we ranked them by squishability factor.’
‘Jesus Christ.’ I score another goal while processing this information.
‘Where did I rank?’
‘Third. You would’ve been second, but Oliver’s got that thickness that edges you out. Kyle’s is too firm to rank high on squishability, but scores top marks for overall aesthetic appeal.'” (108)
“The way you look at me like I matter. The way you touch me as though I’m fragile. The way you make me forget this isn’t real.” (182)
