This is book three in the Chesterford Coyotes series and you can probably read it as a standalone. However, I think you’ll enjoy it more if you read the series in order. Note that one of the characters suffers with an eating disorder so proceed with caution if that might be a trigger for you.

All of the books in this series have been so good with little angst and lots of sweet first love and sweet kisses. Shaun and Kenji were close friends when they were younger and then Shaun’s father forced him to break off their friendship. His father is pretty awful, spouting homophobic slurs and putting lots of pressure on Shaun to excel at hockey and achieve things that he wasn’t able to achieve himself. Kenji’s figure skating coach is an abusive a-hole but Kenji doesn’t really realize what the man is doing to him by constantly berating him and forcing him to get weighed every day.

As is the norm with books by this writing duo, it touched on all of my emotions and brought on a few tears which is just the kind of book I love to read. I’m a little sad that this trilogy has come to an end but I know that RJ and V.L. have more great books coming and I can’t wait to read them all.

Reviews for RJ Scott

Reviews for V.L. Locey

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There was a heated exchange of words, Kenji skating backward and away, almost at center ice. All I needed to do was to push forward on one skate, and glide there, and we could say hello. We’d been best friends once, and if I apologized—if I was honest with him about how I’d messed up—maybe we could go back to being friends. As the argument escalated between my dad and Kenji’s coach, I felt a knot form in my stomach and I was paralyzed by my own insecurities. I watched Kenji and cursed myself for not having the courage to reach out to him.

Dad was becoming more animated, Kenji’s coach just as loud, gesticulating wildly.

I didn’t have the balls to skate to the center ice.

And Kenji didn’t turn to look at me.

Dad returned, as scarlet as me, but where my reaction was shame and confusion, his was temper and hatred.

“You’re sharing the ice,” he snapped.

He was so angry, and I didn’t know how to feel. He’d sacrificed everything for me; worked three jobs to keep me in hockey gear, drove me to every practice and game, and even volunteered as a coach for the team. The thought of letting him down filled me with guilt.

I owed him.

He’d poured his heart and soul into my hockey career, and it all centered on us practicing six days out of seven on this ice, and today we didn’t have the ice.

I should feel territorial, right? It was what Dad wanted me to feel, I was sure. Instead I felt… weird. Then something hit me. Why was I sharing the ice that was for the school? I was somewhere for the Academy teams to practice and play, and it wasn’t open to the public, courtesy of a shit ton of funding from very rich benefactors at our very wealthy campus. Why was someone from outside Chesterford Academy on our ice?

“They’ll let anyone join this damn school, freaking twirly shit getting in our way. Fucking girls out here on our ice.”

“He’s—”

“No!”

I wanted to defend Kenji, to explain that figure skaters were as valid as hockey players, same as I’d done when Kenji had left hockey for the figure skating and begged to be allowed to be friends with him still. But my dad’s hatred had spilled over and scared me.

“Shut your mouth and listen up,” Dad snapped. His reaction stung, his threats left me feeling powerless and defeated, and small.

So small.

“Figure skaters are boys as well,” I word-vomited, thankful the boards were between me and him when Dad stiffened and sent me a stare that would kill other people. Dad had never touched me, apart from fixing my hockey hold, or straightening my back, but his expression was murderous, and that meant the curses would fly and he’d take out his impotent rage on me with words. He leaned over the barrier, and my heart skipped, my chest tightened. I held my position and tilted my chin as he lowered his voice, hate dripping from every word.

Chesterford Coyotes Series

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