I thought the title of this book was interesting and since this was a new to me author, I decided to give it a try. I really enjoyed the story but the title puzzled me until pretty far into the book and then it made sense in a rather poignant and touching way.

Tom’s not big into traditional romantic gestures like flowers and candy. He prefers practical things like changing the oil in his boyfriend’s car. Unfortunately, his ex-boyfriends didn’t feel the same way (which is one reason why they became ex’s).

Alex has anxiety issues, lots of anxiety issues, so he’s pretty much convinced himself that no one will ever be able to tolerate him long enough to have a meaningful relationship with him.

I thought that Tom and Alex really to fit together very well. After Alex became Tom’s temporary houseguest, I think both of them were a bit surprised that Tom didn’t mind some of the quirky things that Alex needed to do to become comfortable.

I’ve never really known anyone with the types of extreme anxiety problems that Alex exhibited but I have known a few with less extreme cases. Sadly, for Alex, the things depicted in the story seemed very realistic to me.

Reviews for Jessie Pinkham

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This is undoubtedly the stupidest thing I’ve ever done to impress a guy. “Go ahead, start it up,” said Tom.

Alex took a deep breath and turned the key. Tom’s truck roared to life. No such luck as a fortuitously-timed engine malfunction. Though he shouldn’t think such things, as Tom was only being nice and wishing expensive repairs on him was hardly fair.

He looked around trepidatiously. The parking lot really was almost deserted, with only a few vehicles parked and those much closer to the doors. He wondered what role those people played in the postal service that required them to work on Sundays, then realized the line of thought was just a mental delay.

“You’re not going to cause any damage,” said Tom. If he was impatient, it didn’t come across in his voice.

“Your brakes are in good order, right?”

“Yes. The truck just passed inspection last month with no problems at all.”

It was a valiant attempt to make Alex feel better, and he appreciated the intent even though it failed.

The brake pedal went down smoothly under his foot. Such a small little piece of metal, and it could be a matter of life or death. Did people who worked at brake factories realize how much trust was being placed in them every single day?

Once he had that all-important device pressed firmly against the floor, he reached for the gear shift. The first notch down put the truck in neutral, the second in drive.

“Now ease up on the brake,” Tom said, remarkably cavalier about putting his safety, not to mention his vehicle, in the hands of a man who couldn’t drive.

Nothing happened when he lightened his touch on the brake as instructed. Maybe it was a sign. Alex had never believed in such things, but he was willing to consider the possibility.

“Wow, you had it stomped all the way down, huh? Okay, let it go. Take your time so you’re comfortable.”

As if that will ever happen.

“How about less terrified? I believe in setting realistic goals.”

“Sure. Whatever works. Just remember, there’s nobody around us, so you can’t do much damage.”

“I could drive into a light pole,” countered Alex, not because he was trying to be ornery, but suddenly concerned about damaging Tom’s truck. Those poles were stuck into cement, a material not known for being kind to vehicles.

“I’m not worried.”

Well, that made one of them. Alex eased up on the brake a bit more, but nothing happened aside from a vague sense of power waiting to be unleashed, though that could have been his imagination.

“Good,” said Tom. “Now give it some gas.”

If I crash into a light pole, he can’t say I didn’t warn him.

Of course he knew the truck was an inanimate object and thus had no feelings. All the same, it seemed as though the massive beast was eager to move, and it lurched forward when he pressed on the gas pedal just the slightest bit. He wasted no time in going back to the nice, safe brake.

“Not bad. Try again, and let it go a little more.”

Alex tried to ignore the churning in his stomach and nervous sweat rolling down the back of his neck, and he depressed the gas pedal again.

This time, the truck moved a good six feet forward before he threw down the brake. The parking lot was beginning to spin around him, something which hadn’t happened in years, and suddenly the truck’s ventilation system seemed entirely insufficient.

“That was good,” said Tom. “A little jerky on the brake, but with practice …”

He was still talking, but Alex didn’t hear a word because he was trying to get his traitorous body to obey him for once. It wasn’t working.

Five years since he’d last had a panic attack, half a decade, and he recognized the oncoming storm as though it had been five days. His heart raced, he struggled to breath, and if he’d eaten recently he’d probably be on the verge of throwing up. Most of all, the whole world raged around him, out of his control while he couldn’t even manage his own physiological response to stress.

Never mind driving, at this point he’d have happily settled for not breaking down in front of Tom, but he knew it was too late for that. Once a panic attack started, there was no cutting it off.

So much for making a good impression.