Oh boy, did this story ever pull me in and not let go. Friends-to-lovers and second chance stories are my romance go-to tropes and this one combines both in the best way. Rowan and Circus were high school friends who wanted to be more until things went very wrong and Rowan left town. Now he’s back and wants to apologize to Circus but Circus won’t even talk to him.

Rowan wasn’t out in high school – and still isn’t – and Circus doesn’t think he can handle a relationship with someone so deep in the closet. Rowan is afraid he will lose his family if he comes out to them. I felt so bad for both of these guys; they both have had some really tough things to deal with.

I just love Saxon James writing. This story engaged me right from the start and made me wish I hadn’t started reading it so late in the evening. I’m a serious night-owl but I eventually had to give in to the fact that my tablet kept falling out of my hands and get some sleep. I couldn’t wait to pick it back up and begin reading as soon as I woke up.

All of the descriptions of the pictures they take, of the house where Circus lives, all of it made me want to visit Sunbury one day. I hope there will be many more books in this series.

Reviews for Saxon James

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Only once I dump the drinks on the table and head back for the bar, I’m suddenly rethinking that choice. Because Rowan Harvey is standing there, clearly waiting for me.

He’s leaning his elbows back on the counter, tattooed fingers linked over his stomach, and blue eyes watching me steadily.

My heart does the familiar squeeze it’s so well practiced at, and any other night, I might have been able to ignore his presence but tonight, I’m already too raw.

So I turn on my heel and flee.

I’m out the doors and into the cool spring air before I’m pretty sure anyone has noticed I’ve left. My bike is propped up against the brick wall of the building, exactly where I left it, because in a town like Sunbury, no one is going to steal your shit.

I stagger as I throw a leg over, and then it takes two attempts before my foot finds the pedal. Huh. So apparently I’m a tad bit drunk.

I start to laugh as I push the bike forward and struggle to hold the handlebars straight.

“You didn’t have to run out on my account.”

My head jerks up.

If hearing his name is enough to make my back tense, hearing his voice is enough to put every muscle in my body on guard.

“I haven’t seen you around,” he continues.

“No shit? Well, I’m sure that was really painful for you.” Not as painful as, say, seeing the man who betrayed you five years ago and ran off before you could get the taste of his come out of your mouth.

“Circus, come on, I just want to talk.”

“Sorry, I don’t do that anymore.”

“Talk?”

“Give you my time.” I push off and finally get my bike moving in the forward direction, but when Rowan falls into step beside me, I realize I’m possibly going slower on this thing than if I were walking.

“Can you just hear me out?”

“Hard no.” My bike gives a solid wobble but I correct it in time.

“Is it safe for you to be riding that thing right now?”

“Is it safe for me to be alone with you right now?”

“Circus, I—”

I ring my bell, obnoxiously loud in the quiet street, and cut off his words.

“Circus—”

I ring it again.

Then before I even see him move, Rowan steps into the street, and his hand closes over mine.

I jolt back like I’ve been shocked, and in all fairness, I think that’s what happened. I am in shock. Shock over his closeness, his warmth, his presence.

And oh hell fucking no, motherfucker. My dick has apparently gone batshit crazy because it starts to perk up.

Doesn’t it remember the last time it got all excited over him?

I stumble as I climb off my bike and Rowan’s left standing there holding it.

“All I want is for you to accept my apology,” he begs. “Then I’ll be gone again. I swear it.”

“Aww.” I cock my head in fake sympathy. “I guess you’ll be here a while then.”

I make the mistake of meeting his eyes and all those years we spent together hurl back through my memories. He steps forward. There’s barely room for my bike between us. This close, it’s easy to see all the ways he’s grown up.

And the torn look on his face tells me all the ways he hasn’t.

I’d put money down that his closet door is still locked tight.

“Please, Kelly …”

My real name snaps me out of whatever that was, and sets my anger to red hot. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“But—”

I yank my bike from his grip and this time I get on it first go. The rage is burning through my drunkenness and all I need is to put as much distance as possible between us. “You have no right to that name. You have no right to my forgiveness. Now get the fuck out of my life.” I push off and have enough coordination to get the bike moving a bit faster. “And this time, stay there.”

Never Just Friends Series

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