Ambiguous is only the second book I’ve read by Leslie McAdam and I loved it. I’m not always that big of a fan of rock star stories but this one really grabbed me and didn’t let go. The chemistry between Sam and Julian was palpable.

Sam is such a sweet guy but he’s so busy working and trying to be what his family expects that he doesn’t take time for himself…until he meets Julian.

Julian is a world-famous rock star who might just be the nicest celebrity ever. He really cares about his fans and bends over backwards to give them what they want. The one thing he won’t do, though, is talk about his sexuality; that is nobody’s business except his own.

This is a really great slow-burn, fairly low-angst book. Sam has to standup to his family so that he can have what he wants and not what they want. Julian has to decide whether or not to reveal his true self and come out so that he can be in a relationship with Sam and not have to hide.

I loved everything about this story and I’m looking forward to reading more in the series.

Reviews for Leslie McAdam

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Julian takes my breath away. While I’ve met plenty of celebrities, with him I feel this hit to my solar plexus. I freeze, because he’s so hot it’s too much to process.

Dark, perfectly mussed hair. Dark brown eyes. Tan skin.

His black pants are painted on, highlighting his lanky form. He’s wearing heeled black boots with chains on them and a loose, lacy, unbuttoned blouse and piles of long pearl necklaces. Rings on every finger click as he fidgets. His Adam’s apple moves as he drinks from a bottle of water.

He started with a boy band a decade ago. And, while I listen to plenty of pop music, I’ve intentionally ignored him just to piss Emily off. I’m mature like that sometimes. I’m not sure why I even started that—she and I love a lot of the same music and go to concerts together whenever we can, but at some point I decided he was just too cheesy, and then it became a thing. Julian is now on his own, the only one from his original group to have a successful solo career.

Of course I’ve heard his music. I’m generally aware of him, because I live in a condo in America and not under a rock cut off from communication with the outside world.

I’ve just never put his songs on voluntarily. Now I wish I knew more about him.

The table’s been set up for the meeting with bottles of fancy water and carafes of coffee. Readying himself for introductions, Julian sets down his water and stands up.

I walk over to shake his hand, and it’s like it happens in slow motion. One second I’m standing, and the next my toe hooks on a chair leg and I go flying. My flailing wrist manages to knock his open bottle of water from the table, and I take him down to the floor in one fell swoop, splashing water all over him as I go.

He lands on the industrial carpet with an “Oomph,” and I end up sprawled on top of him.

Heat singes my cheeks. Oh shit, oh shit. I won’t blame him if he pulls a diva fit after I ruined his clothes. They’re next season’s Gucci.

I start mentally updating my résumé.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, fumbling up to the table to grab a stack of paper napkins from the coffee service while struggling to get off of him as fast as I can.

Julian frowns, and then he jackknifes up to a sitting position, forcing a laugh. His now-wet shirt leaves little to the imagination, revealing the shapes of tattoos scattered all over his chiseled torso. I kneel at his feet and start wiping his pants, only to realize that, yeah, I’m trying to dry off the crotch of a Grammy-nominated recording artist.

“Oh my god,” I repeat. “I’m so sorry.”

I can’t stop dabbing at his crotch.

With a white napkin.

That’s leaving shreds of wet lint.

On his dark designer pants.

I’m making it so much worse—and my reaction to him is getting worse, too. Partly because there’s a bulge underneath that zipper, and it’s not small. Like, not at all small. Partly because he smells amazing—like maybe rum and vanilla—which makes my body hum and my cock wake up.

Even though I don’t live my life as a train wreck, apparently it can get derailed in one second flat.

IOU Series

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