I sit among the spectators at the Atlanta Underground

Seriously, book, WHAT IS THIS?  I don’t get it.  I don’t know what she’s talking about.  There has not been enough context for me to tell what’s going on with this ‘underground’ business.  It reads like something the author misunderstood, and so she’s presenting it as something the reader should ‘already know’ instead of explaining it as something completely made up.  But when the book’s information and my information don’t connect, because the book’s information is completely off-base, then I literally cannot fill in the blanks with real-world context. 

The closest I can come up with is that there is a semi-professional or amateur boxing league named ‘Underground’ and…they have a series of very uncreatively named clubs?  Actually, that might work, because even though it’s been heavily hinted that all this is illegal, it’s never been outright stated, and the only comments about Remy being ‘banned’ are just that, they don’t say what he was banned from.  It’s all still very unclear, and you should never make a reader work this hard to figure out what’s going on, but for the sake of sanity let’s pretend that’s what this is.  Remy is independently wealthy and fighting in a semi-professional league with a very boring name.  And cash flow issues.  And very lax insurance policies.

Also I’d rather wonder about the logistics of this league than read several more pages of Brooke’s inner lust being described in overexacting detail.

Seriously, we’ve had three whole chapters of this so far, can we not be trusted to understand that Remy is hot and Brooke wants to boink him?  Because I picked up on that a while ago, I don’t need to be reminded again.

The center. Of my. World.

…what’s with the weird periods there, sentence?

Try to say that out loud without laughing.  I dare you.

He knocks him out quickly, and because he keeps winning, he fights a line of new opponents, one after the other.

Are we just in an alternate world where the rules of physics are different, maybe?  And also lawsuits don’t exist?  Because this should be killing fighters, which means insurance shouldn’t cover it, which means it shouldn’t be legal, which means someone ought to be getting arrested.

Seriously, guys, don’t forget about insurance liability when you write.  It’s a major concern over here in the real world, and it affects a lot of what businesses and sports will allow.

it will all come down to a big fight at the end of the tour, in New York, where only the top two men will engage in a long 16-round fight

You know what?

We’re on Asgard.

These guys are literal gods and can get smashed through walls without dying.

I’m just gonna go with that.

Because, actually, a story about immortal beings going bare-knuckle brawling for fun because they know they can’t get seriously injured from it would be rather interesting.

Remy’s next fight involves him taking a few punches instead of winning flawlessly in a few seconds, and the book decides to paint this as being some horrible, tense moment of drama.  Um…that happens a lot in boxing, book, calm down.  I mean, I’ve been saying this should be hurting him more, but Remy isn’t actually getting hurt.  He gets punched, and then bounces right back from it, all while Brooke flails around in angst and wailing inside her own head.

He ends up winning the fight and afterwards Brooke and Remy end up alone in his hotel room.

I’m so close I think I just inhaled the same air he exhaled, and without warning his scent is inside me.

My head is spinning inside my cranium.

I think we found the root of Brooke’s issues. 

She has another head inside her head.

That’s got to fuck a person up.

Pete comes in and Brooke goes out, then she overhears Pete accuse Remy of getting hit just so Brooke will have to ‘work on’ him. 

Guys get hit in boxing.  It’s part of the sport.  He didn’t even get very hurt.  From the description of the fight, it was all pretty mild.  I mean, not for a normal person, but for a boxing match at least.  Why is everyone losing their shit?

Smirking, he grabs a gallon of organic milk on the counter and starts downing it until it’s almost all in his stomach, then he slams it down and wipes his lips with the back of his arm, saying, “Thanks for dinner.”

O.O

Is this book trying to impress me with Remy passing the milk challenge, or does it not realize that chugging a gallon of milk will make you throw up?

AND THEN RIGHT AFTER THAT HE WANTS TO GO RUNNING.

Book…upchucking ain’t sexy.  I don’t even know what you’re doing.

there’s something insanely intimate about the way his blue eyes watch me lick the juice off an electrolyte packet that had belonged to him.

If you know what I mean.

my nipples harden like diamonds

Even Lady GaGa would call that tacky.

They chat for a bit about his getting hit, which Remy pointing out that…really, people get hit in boxing, it’s kind of the point, and then they head home.  Miraculously, he doesn’t throw up after going through two fights, chugging a gallon of milk, and then running five miles.  I guess this is a thing anyone can do on Asgard.

They part ways after several more reminders that they’re both horny for each other and Brooke goes to bed to muse about how fucking horny she is.

And I just need to touch him. I know I can’t kiss him full on that sexy mouth, but I can at least stretch him.

Why the fuck can’t you just fuck him?  Really, she’s been carrying on for the whole book about how much she wants to jump his bones, and he ain’t exactly been subtle about sniffing her once a chapter, so WHY CAN’T YOU TWO JUST BUMP UGLIES AND GET IT OVER WITH WHERE IS THIS COMING FROM?

I wouldn’t even mind at this point, because you both are clearly willing and eager.

She goes to his room only to find out that Riley and Pete have brought back some hookers for Remy, because EVERYONE IN THIS BOOK IS SHIT, THAT’S WHY.  Thus we set up our first Standard Romance Misunderstanding. \~/

I think the worst thing about this is that the sex industry is just being used for that shitty trope and given not a second thought.

The next day, Brooke is pissed off and offers to spar with Remy, and it just turns into him giving her a lesson.  Because, you know, we haven’t had multiple reminders that she’s been in “so many” self defense classes, so she needs to learn how to throw a punch without breaking her wrist.

My aim is to strike his Achilles’ tendon with the ball of my foot

Gonna be real hard to do while you’re standing in front of him, Brooke.

Instead, Remy is such a hardass ankle that she injures herself instead of him.  I’m still not even sure what she was doing, though.  Maybe she got injured trying to twist around his body with her leg to reach a target on the other side of him.

They make much ado over poor, injured Brooke and then get horny again because of course.

our fingers brush. Lightning shoots up my veins.

Because of course.

\~/

I know it’s crazy, and that it’s never going to happen, that it can never happen, but I just can’t help it.

TELL ME WHY IT CAN’T HAPPEN, YOU HAVE CONSISTENTLY FAILED TO TELL ME WHY YOU CAN’T JUST FUCK THE GUY AND HAVE DONE WITH IT.

They make such a ruckous over Brooke’s ankle, and I’m still not sure what’s wrong with it.  All she did was kick his shoe instead of his leg.  How badly can you actually get hurt over that?  Well, I guess the book is more concerned with ‘big manly dude needs to touch her tenderly and carry her around’ than actually making sense.  Is anyone here surprised?

Then it’s just several drawn-out pages of a footrub.  No.  Really.  Complete with Brooke flailing about in throes of sexual whateverness.  But then she remembers him having hookers over and cools off.

Diane enters. “There you are. I must feed you now so you can recharge for tomorrow!”

Who even talks like that?  “I must feed you”? All I can think of now is: