gloria .☆ﾟ.'s Reviews > November 9

➥ 0 Stars *:･ﾟ✧ dnf @ 20%

“I’ve never wanted to use physical force on a girl before, but I want to push her to the ground and hold her there until the cab drives away.”

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When I tell you this is the worst book I have ever read. And I mean, I cannot fathom how someone could like this book. Did they ignore all the words they were reading or something? How. This book genuinely made me reevaluate my opinions on Colleen Hoover in general because what the fuck. I find it ironic how she wrote It Ends with Us as Ryle being an abuser, yet writes her literal fucking love interests (in this case Ben) as that too. This author is incapable of not only writing healthy relationships, but also writing love interests. It even makes me concerned for her because what men are in your life that make you think this shit is romantic? Put your husband on the phone. Also, considering I dnfd this at 20% (BEFORE THE PLOT TWIST) and hated it even then, because after hearing what the plot twist is (super predictable btw) I cannot believe people like this man.

➥ Ben (H) is actually disgusting. I cannot believe people like him 😭😭. He is a man with a saviour complex, he's objectifying, he's just the epitome of the reason why I'm afraid of and usually dislike men.

➥ Fallon (h) was just kind of bland from what I read, and so fucking insecure, oh my god, enough.

This is how we meet Ben.

He’s already staring at me again. The same smile he shot at me earlier is still affixed to his face, but this time I don’t look away from him. In fact, my eyes don’t leave his as he makes his way to our booth. Before I can react, he’s sliding into the seat with me. Holy shit. What is he doing?

“Sorry I’m late, babe,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He just called me babe. This random dude just put his arm around me and called me babe. What the hell is going on? I glance at my father, thinking he’s in on this somehow, but he’s looking at the stranger next to me with even more confusion than I probably am. I stiffen beneath the guy’s arm when I feel his lips press against the side of my head. “Damn L.A. traffic,” he mutters.

Random Dude just put his lips in my hair. What. Is going. On. The guy reaches across the table for my father’s hand. “I’m Ben,” he says. “Benton James Kessler. Your daughter’s boyfriend.”
Your daughter’s . . . what?

So we can already see his saviour complex here. I bet he thinks he's so slick but this is just creepy and weird. Imagine a man's thought process in deciding to do that? Such entitlement, idgaf.

Anyway, right after that whole fiasco of him defending her in front of her dad (I feel like this is one of those scenarios where dudes talk about liking girls with daddy issues because they can go and be there heroes), he already starts sexualising her. Boom. This girl just got done having a traumatic conversation with her father, this dude pretends to be nice and care about her, and then as soon as we get to his perspective, he sexualises her. All these men care about is sex I'm so serious. I swear in his head I know he just did this because 1: saviour complex and 2: he wants sex in return.

I wish I could say I’m mentally preparing a brilliant apology, but I’m not. I seem to have a one-track mind, and that track leads straight to the two things I shouldn’t even be thinking about right now.
Her boobs.
Both of them.
I know. I’m pathetic. But if we’re just going to sit here and stare at each other, it’d be nice if she were showing a little cleavage, instead of wearing this long-sleeved shirt that leaves everything to the imagination. It’s pushing eighty degrees outside. She should be in something a lot less . . . conventinspired.

So, not only is he sexualising her right off the bat, but he also already feels like she owes him something. In this case, he thinks she owes him cleavage? That he deserves it??

A couple seated a few tables over stands up and begins to walk past us, toward the exit. I notice Fallon tilts her head away from them and lets her hair fall in front of her face like a protective shield. I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it. It seems like such a natural reaction for her to try and cover up what she sees as flaws. That’s probably why she’s wearing the long-sleeved shirt. It shields everyone from seeing what’s beneath it.

And of course, this thought leads me to her breasts again. Are they scarred, too? How much of her body is actually affected?

I begin to mentally undress her, and not in a sexual way. I’m just curious. Really curious, because I can’t stop staring at her, and that’s not like me. My mother raised me with more tact than this, but what my mother failed to teach me is that there would be girls like this one who would test those manners merely by existing.

First of all, he finds a way to sexualise and I'd almost say fetishise her trauma and scars. By questioning whether the harm reached her breasts too?? Disgusting. Then he talks about undressing her but "not in a sexual way" when it's clearly in a sexual way. That's so violating. He's curious because he's been wanting to get into her pants since he saw her. Then he says his mother taught him to be respectful toward women but he just can't help but sexualise her because she's soo different and makes him want to be disrespectful? Cute.

"I've never had a fake boyfriend before," she says.
“I’ve never had a real boyfriend before,” I reply.
Her eyes shift to my hair. “Believe me, that’s obvious. No gay man I know would have left the house looking like you do right now.”

Because I'm doing things chronologically, this was the next thing that upset me. It always feels gross to me when straight people mention gay people in general because it's always either used for a stereotype or a joke. Not only does CoHo also write a really bad gay stereotype in It Ends with Us, but here it's also upholding another stereotype, even if it's one that's not as bad. They talk about gay people like they're these different things and it just pisses me off. And she did make a joke out of it, of course. Lovely. If you're going to write harmful lgbtq+ representation, don't write any at all please.

I wasn’t expecting this today of all days. To be sitting across from this girl, watching her lick ice cream off her lips and having to swallow air just to make sure I’m still breathing.

I absolutely despised when eating is sexualised. As if women aren't sexualised doing everything; eating ice cream, eating bananas etc. I just know CoHo was itching to write "I was imagining it was my cock."

She sighs. Again. I don’t think I’ve ever made a girl sigh this much in such a short amount of time. And they aren’t the kind of sighs that make a guy feel good about his skills. They’re the kind of sighs that make him wonder what the hell he’s doing wrong.

What even is this sentence.

I lean forward to toss my container into the trash can behind her. It’s the closest I’ve come to her since we were sitting in the booth together. Her entire body stiffens with my proximity. Rather than pull back right away, I look her directly in the eye before focusing on her mouth. “That’s what boyfriends are for,” I say as I slowly back away from her.

Again, she literally just admitted her trauma and recent struggles and all he can think about it how he can serve as his girlfriend or lover? Gross.

Now I’m the one releasing a heavy sigh. “You want to know what I thought when I saw you for the first time?”

She tilts her head. “When you saw me for the first time? You mean as in one whole hour ago?”

I ignore her cynicism and continue. “The first time you walked past me— before I interrupted your lunch date with your father—I stared at your ass the whole time you were stomping away. And I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of panties you had on. That’s all I thought about the entire time you were in the restroom. Were you a thong girl? Were you going commando? Because I didn’t see an outline in your jeans that hinted you were wearing normal panties.

“Before you returned from the bathroom, I started to get this panicked feeling in my stomach, because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see your face. I had been listening in on your conversation and already knew I was drawn to your personality. But what about your face? People say not to judge a book by its cover, but what if you somehow read the inside of the book without
seeing the cover first? And what if you really liked what was inside that book? Of course when you go to close the book and are about to see the cover for the first time, you hope it’s something you’ll find attractive. Because who wants an incredibly written book sitting on their bookshelf if
they have to stare at a shitty cover?”

Read that again 😀. How does one sit down and write that shit fr? Let's break this down. First of all, he vocally admits that the first thing he did when he saw he was sexualise her. And fantasise about her underwear? Man, that is fucking disgusting. Incel. Then, he thinks he likes her personality because he heard her have one conversation, with her dad. Ok. Then, he says that he was worried about being ugly because even if she had a good personality, who would want to see someone ugly every day? Can you imagine???? What is this logic. Who is reading this and liking it?? But you're not even ready for this next part.

“You were almost to my booth at this point and that’s when my eyes fell to your cheek. To your neck. I saw the scars for the first time, and just as I noticed them, you darted your eyes to the floor and let your hair cover most of your face. And you know what I thought in that moment, Fallon?”

Her eyes flick up to meet mine and I can tell she doesn’t really want me to say it. She thinks she knows exactly what I thought in that moment, but she has no idea.

“I was so relieved,” I tell her. “Because I could tell with that one simple movement that you were really insecure. And I realized—since you obviously had no idea how fucking beautiful you were—that I just might actually have a chance with you. And so I smiled. Because I was hoping if I played my cards right—I might get to find out exactly what kind of panties you were wearing under those jeans.”

😀😀😀 *crickets*. I'm mortified. Again, let's process this. He sees she has scars, so he think = insecure. And he's like "OMG GREAT!! Thank goodness she's insecure so now I have a chance with her!!" and he brings up the underwear comment again. Again, showing how he's sexualised her from the beginning and revealing his hidden motives 😀. The crazy thing to me is that he admits this out loud? To a girl? Thinking that it's flattering or some shit?? Well, Fallon certainly thought so😐 this book is fucked up. Of course the only thing she processes from his whole speech was that he thinks she's "fucking beautiful".

“We’ll be in my room,” I say casually. Ben gives them a quick wave and then removes his arm from around my shoulders, sliding his fingers through mine. “Nice to meet you both.” He points down the hall. “I’m gonna follow Fallon to her room now so I can see what kind of panties she has on.”

So, then she asks him to help her pack and this is what he says to her roommates once she meets them. I truly cannot think of another word that isn't disgusting now, because it perfectly encapsulates my feelings towards this fucker.

“You’re a reader?” he asks.
I look over my shoulder and he’s fingering the books on my shelves. “I love to read. You should hurry up and write a book, because it’s already on my TBR pile.”
“Your TBR pile?”
“To be read pile,” I clarify.

Even references like this are so cringy. It's like CoHo tried to write a self-insert narrative for her readers and it's gross.

He smiles at me from his position on the bed, and the sight of him sitting there makes my cheeks feel all hot and bothered. I suddenly want to beg him to roll around on my sheets so I can smell him when I fall asleep tonight. But then I remember I won’t be sleeping on them tonight because I’ll be on a flight to New York. I turn around and face my closet again so he doesn’t see the flushed look on my face.
He laughs quietly. “You were just thinking dirty thoughts.”
“Was not,” I quip.
“Fallon, we’ve been dating for two hours now. I can read you like a book, and right now I do believe that book is full of erotica.”

Someone come over to my house and cry with me, that was so bad. So, so bad. Anyway, after that, he actually doesn't help her pack at all (I'm serious) and she hears him book a table for two at a restaurant without asking her if it's ok. Cool.

He grins and then peeks over my shoulder at the drawer I’m rifling through.

“Is that your panty drawer?” He reaches around and grabs a pair. I pull them out of his hand and toss them toward my suitcase.

“Hands off,” I tell him.

He walks around me and leans his elbow against the dresser. “If you’re packing underwear, that means you don’t go commando. So by process of elimination, I’ve figured out that you’re currently wearing a thong. Now I just have to find out what color it is.”

I toss the contents of my drawer toward my suitcase. “It takes a lot more than smooth talk to get me down to my panties, Ben the Writer.”

He grins. “Oh yeah? Like what? A fancy dinner?” He pushes off the dresser and stands up straight, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Because it just so happens I have reservations at the Chateau Marmont tonight at seven.”

His obsession with her underwear is so gross. And he just makes it a joke that he's doing everything step by step just so he can get into her pants??

I shake my head and grab the dress from him, hanging it back in its spot. I grab one of the few long-sleeved dresses I own and I pull it off the hanger. “I like this one.”

His eyes fall to the dress he initially picked out and he pulls it off the hanger and shoves it at me. “But I want you to wear this one.”

I shove the dress back at him. “I don’t want to wear that, I want to wear this.”

“No,” he says. “I’m paying for dinner, so I get to choose what to stare at while we eat.”

Excuse me???? Again, he thinks he's entitled to getting her to do what he wants. In this case because he's getting her dinner (that she didn't ask for), and he's specifically picking a dress that's more revealing. It makes me want to puke.

"Please don’t ask me again to wear that dress, because I’m much more relaxed in clothes that don’t show too much skin. I don’t like making people uncomfortable, and if I wore something like that, they would feel weird looking at me.”

Ben’s jaw tenses and he looks away from me, down at the dress in his hands. “Okay,” he says simply, dropping the dress to the floor. Finally. “But it’s your own fault people feel uncomfortable looking at you.”

I don’t even hide my gasp. It’s the first thing he’s said to me all day that’s made me feel like I was being spoken to by my father. I’m not gonna lie. It hurts. My throat feels like it’s swelling shut, so I clear it.

“That wasn’t very nice,” I say quietly.

Ben takes a step closer to me. My closet is small enough as it is. I certainly don’t need him standing even closer. Especially after saying something as hurtful as he just did.

“It’s the truth,” he says.

Maybe I agree that she shouldn't have to accommodate for other people's opinions and comfort, but someone outright blaming her for not wanting unnecessary, negative attention is just fucking awful. And he says this without a care in the world!!!!

“And your lips. Men stare at them because they want to know what they taste like, and women stare at them out of jealousy because if they had lips the color of yours, they’d never have to buy lipstick again.”

Again, we're pitting girls against each other? Bullshit.

This is going too far.
Too far, too far, too far, but all I can do is suck in a wild breath and let his fingers pop open the button on my jeans, because as much as I wish he would stop, I get the feeling he’s not undressing me for pleasure. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but I’m too immobile to ask.

This is borderline sexual assault, and there's no use of consent. She clearly wants him to stop, but puts his desires (whether sexual or not - they are though) before hers. Then she proceeds to cry while he undresses her, and he continues, unphased. Cute, right? Yeah.

“Fucking beautiful,” he says with a slow grin. “And red.”
Red?
I look down at the dress, but it’s definitely black.
“Your panties,” he says as clarification. “They’re red.”

So first, he spews bullshit saying that he's not doing it for his pleasure, but then he basically just coerced her into letting him find out the colour of her underwear???? Repulsive.

“That’s a record,” Ben says, pulling me away from his chest so he can look down at me. “Made my girlfriend cry less than three hours into our relationship.”

That's not funny or cute.

He shuts the door, but I can still hear what he says to Amber and Glenn as
soon as he walks into the living room. “They’re red! Her panties are red!”

Disgusting. I cannot believe this book was published. I cannot believe people like it. If you did like it, I want you to use some critical thinking skills because this is such bullshit. I agree that sometimes romance books are nice because they don't require that much brain power, but if your brain didn't catch how absolutely terrible this book is...no comment. Again, this was all in the first 2 chapters in the book. I can't how many more terrible things I could have found had I kept on reading. And that plot twist is ass and unforgivable imo.

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