Red Card is one of those books that is easy to breeze through, does not demand much of you, and delivers the usual mix of romance, sports, and spice. Red Card is one of those books that is easy to breeze through, does not demand much of you, and delivers the usual mix of romance, sports, and spice. While it did exactly what it set out to do, which was entertain me for a few hours, it also confirmed that I probably need to step away from contemporary romances for a while because too many of them are starting to feel the same in a way that is not comforting anymore but just repetitive.
The setup was pretty fun with strong She’s the Man and She’s All That vibes. Cillian, a British rugby player with a bad attitude, gets a second chance at a US college team, while Rory, the coach’s daughter who knows the sport inside and out but somehow always ends up in the friend zone, asks him to teach her how to get the guy she wants. Their banter worked, the tension was there, the dynamic felt promising, and for the first half I thought I would be in for a good slow-burn payoff.
But once they kissed, the pacing just fell apart. The relationship moved so quickly that the emotional development never caught up. The chemistry was strong but had no time to build into anything layered, and it felt like we skipped the part where they actually connected on a deeper level, going straight to the physical in a way that made the rest of the romance feel rushed and a bit hollow.
There were moments where the book seemed to gesture toward deeper themes like grief and losing a parent, but they stayed in the background instead of becoming a meaningful part of the characters’ journeys. This was frustrating because they had the potential to add weight and nuance but instead felt like background props. Rory’s “one of the guys” persona, which is central to the plot, often read like a newer version of the old “I’m not like other girls” trope, which I have never loved, and her character did not develop much beyond that tomboy framing which wore thin the longer I read.
My favourite part by far was the friendship between Rory and Cillian before they got together. It had charm, banter, and that will-they-won’t-they tension I love. But once the romance kicked in, the balance shifted so heavily toward spice that it lost the emotional pull that made the first half work for me. I like spice in romance but I need it to be built on something more substantial, and with Maren Moore’s books I have noticed she tends to favour spice over substance, which works for a lot of readers but just does not scratch the itch I have for emotional stakes and genuine character growth.
That said, there were still fun touches. The team dynamics, the side characters, and the easy lived-in world of the book all kept it from feeling flat. But overall Red Card was quick, light, and fine, the kind of read I might reach for when I want something low-stakes and undemanding but not one I will think about once I have put it down.