Hot guys, swimmers, and spice...Oh my!
This steamy new adult contemporary romance centers on first loves, college experiences, swim team antics, second chances, and love triangles.
Elizabeth Dixon greets her freshman year of college just as everyone else does: with high expectations and hope for positive new experiences. She’s quickly confronted with new challenges in her social life, school work, and swim team, but her biggest challenge will be dealing with her best friend’s roommate Jason—who’s also her teammate.
Jason Green knows how to push all of Elizabeth’s buttons and never passes the opportunity to let her know that they will never be more than teammates. That is, until one unexpected kiss after practice changes everything. Despite his harsh and secretive exterior, Jason has a softness when it comes to Elizabeth, but will he allow himself to open up enough to keep her by his side?
Their newfound back-and-forth relationship brings more tribulations than Elizabeth is willing to bear, and Jason’s ill-temper might not be strong enough to carry the extra weight. Will their passion for one another be enough to withstand their issues, or will heartbreak be another challenge to break Elizabeth?
Hot guys, swimmers, and spice...Oh my!
This steamy new adult contemporary romance centers on first loves, college experiences, swim team antics, second chances, and love triangles.
Elizabeth Dixon greets her freshman year of college just as everyone else does: with high expectations and hope for positive new experiences. She’s quickly confronted with new challenges in her social life, school work, and swim team, but her biggest challenge will be dealing with her best friend’s roommate Jason—who’s also her teammate.
Jason Green knows how to push all of Elizabeth’s buttons and never passes the opportunity to let her know that they will never be more than teammates. That is, until one unexpected kiss after practice changes everything. Despite his harsh and secretive exterior, Jason has a softness when it comes to Elizabeth, but will he allow himself to open up enough to keep her by his side?
Their newfound back-and-forth relationship brings more tribulations than Elizabeth is willing to bear, and Jason’s ill-temper might not be strong enough to carry the extra weight. Will their passion for one another be enough to withstand their issues, or will heartbreak be another challenge to break Elizabeth?
“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8
Well, I call bullshit on Corinthians. Love is a battlefield, and all is fair in love and war. The truth of the matter is that genuine love is messy. It’s not like it’s written in books or portrayed in movies. Love is hard; so damn hard. It leaves people irrevocably changed in its path. Some people say that if you love someone, to set them free because it makes things so much sweeter if they return. Love should be treated like war: fight until the bitter end and never give up on those who touch your soul. Unfortunately, sometimes it’s all too much, and you break.
I’m starting my college career at Southwestern Connecticut University, nestled in the southwestern part of Connecticut. SWCU has a beautiful sprawling campus and everything I’m looking for. It’s a smaller university, but it has a distinguished faculty with, refreshingly, no one from my former high school. I decided on majoring in history and will be swimming for the school. Swimming has been a major part of my life for as long as I can remember, so it only seemed natural for me to continue. It allows me the freedom to depend on myself and my own performance, but also provides the friendships that come along with belonging to a team. As for my major, I’ve always loved history, and there was nothing else that I could think of that was remotely interesting, so I just kind of fell into it.
In studying history, we often see that people never learn from the past. But, if you really look closely at history, you’ll find that events continually repeat themselves. What I find curious is how people can recognize these patterns and know the saying “if you don’t know your history then you’re doomed to repeat it,” but still somehow don’t apply these lessons to their real life. As judgmental as it sounds, I never understood how people don’t (or won’t) learn from their mistakes. But, then again, instead of just owning the word mistake, people often take and pervert it. They choose to call it an experience instead to make themselves feel better about their situation or maybe it’s just that they’re too blind to accept it. Either way, when it comes to love, I have vowed to not fall blindly. I have seen it happen to too many friends and I won’t let it happen to me.
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“Elizabeth, let’s get going.”
“Alright, Dad. I’m coming,” I say as I give Charlie, our Westie, one last belly rub and kiss.
I swallow down my butterflies and close the door behind me. In front of me stands not only my future but a three-hour car ride in the front-middle seat between both of my parents since the rest of the car is packed with everything I need for my new home away from home. My dad adores his old-school car and refuses to get rid of it. While it’s often mistaken for a blue tank, it’s actually a 1984 Chevy Impala. When I got into a minor accident last summer, I hardly felt it move while the other car’s damage was pretty significant. It may not have been the coolest ride, but it was certainly better than walking.
When I was younger, I used to love sitting in the center seat, but now wasn’t the time for nostalgic reminiscing on how riding on the armrest used to be the coolest thing. My thoughts were occupied by rolling up to college scrunched up between my parents. I don’t think it could get more embarrassing than that.
Thank God my dad had the forethought of having the car run with the air conditioner blasting to negate the humid August weather. Rolling my eyes at the long journey ahead, I climb into the middle seat and try to prepare myself for what will undoubtedly be an obnoxious ride. Even still, I find myself so excited that I can hardly contain it. I can’t wait to get out of this town and see what’s out there. As we back out of the driveway, I close my eyes and hope to take a nap to pass the time while stuck in this torturous position. Within minutes of leaving the house, I doze off, only to be awoken by the sound of my mom’s voice.
“Lizzy, do you have everything you need?”
“I think so, Mom. I know I’ll need some food and water for my room, but we can go shopping after we unload the car.” She nods and gives my knee a reassuring pat.
The rest of the car ride is uneventful, and after three long, leg-cramping hours, we pull off the highway and make our way through town. As we get closer to the campus, my anticipation grows alongside the butterflies in my stomach. I look out my window to see the entire campus decorated with booths for different clubs and organizations for new students to join. I’m assuming this is a part of the freshman orientation week festivities. Hopefully, it will give me time to make some new friends, learn where my classes are, try to get some swim practice in, and get to know my new roommate, Kayla.
Kayla and I have talked on the phone, texted, and FaceTimed to get to know each other, and it seems like we have a lot in common. Since Kayla lives close to school, she was going to be moving into our room earlier in the day and would already be settled in by the time I got to campus. As we made our way through the different dorm buildings, a broad smile appeared on my face as we approached Newport Hall—my new home for the next year.
Newport Hall is one of the newer buildings on the back end of the campus and looks out over the football field. On a spring visit, I noted they had refinished the dorm with new carpets, fresh paint, and upgraded air conditioning. I really hoped that I would live here and felt so lucky when I got my room assignment. Being an athlete helped with priority classes and priority housing. All my classes have to be finished before practice starts, so the registrar was able to override my classes (which was a nicely added perk).
“You look so happy and excited to be here, honey,” Mom says.
“I am, but I’m more excited to get out of this car,” I groan.
“Me too, my legs are so stiff!”
“Please! I’m the one stuck in the middle of you and dad. How do you think I feel?” I laugh.
As the car slows to a stop, I can hardly contain my excitement getting out of the car. My legs are incredibly stiff and sweaty from sitting in between my parents for three hours. After my mom gets out, I somehow roll myself out of the middle seat without falling straight onto the pavement. As I stand up out of the car, I look around at all the other cars lined up and think about all the fun to come.
“Lizzy,” Mom calls, “let’s unload the car.”
I grab a bag and head for the door of my new home. As soon as I walk in, my senses are instantly bombarded by the smell of fresh paint, sweat, Axe body spray, and men’s cologne. Talk about an olfactory overload. We’re greeted by the Resident Director, and I quickly realize that this is a coed dorm.
“I thought this was an all-girls’ dorm?” my mother asked the RD.
“No, not this year. The second and third floors are for the freshmen girls, and the first floor is for sophomore boys,” the RA explains.
“What? How were we not made aware of this before?” my dad exclaims with a knowing look on his face.
“They’re separated by floor, but the bathrooms are same-sex bathrooms,” the RD informs us, and my mother’s jaw practically falls on the floor.
“You guys, it’ll be fine. Let’s just go find my room,” I say.
As we make our way up the stairs, we pass a boy in the hallway who seemed to be eyeing me up and down. As I passed by, with a deep, low voice, he seductively growled at me calling me fresh meat—whatever that’s supposed to mean. I simply ignore it and keep walking, trying not to draw attention to it.
I can feel the heat rise from deep inside as my face flushed, praying my parents didn’t hear his crude remark. My dad would go absolutely ballistic if he heard anything like that. Who thought putting freshmen girls in the same dorm as sophomore boys was a good idea?
Marching forward, we finally reach my room, number 203. My mother instantly points out to my dad that I’m right next to our floor’s Resident Advisor, which means I won’t be able to get into any trouble. I roll my eyes at her comment and open the door to my room. While I totally don’t want to be next to the RA, the devious side of me thinks it might not always be a bad thing—I’ll be able to tell people I can’t have any parties in my room because the RA is next door, which leaves me with no party to clean up.
As I open the door, I see my roommate has already set up her things. She’s a beautiful blonde girl with a bubbly attitude.
“Hi! I’m Kayla, obviously. It’s so good to meet you in person!” she exclaims. “I took this side of the room already, so all of this is yours.”
I nod and smile, beyond relieved to have such a normal roommate. I’ve heard so many horror stories from other people about their roommates and instantly felt lucky that we had gotten to know each other over the past few weeks, so there would be no weird surprises.
After what seems like endless trips to the car to get everything, I find myself more tired, hotter, and sweatier than I was earlier. It’s definitely not an attractive look, and I’m in desperate need of a shower. While my dad and I finish bringing up everything from the car, my mom, the typical dutiful wife and mother, is busy setting up my bed one last time.
There’s something comforting about your mother making your bed for you rather than when you do it yourself. She knows how to get the corners of the sheets perfectly tucked under and the top sheet turned down to perfection. I can guarantee that my bed will never look this good again—that is until they visit and she makes it for me again. I smile at the thought as I watch her finish. It’s like she’s doing a dance, gliding across the floor, spinning and stacking each pillow with the grace of a ballerina. The woman really is a marvel to watch and can put anyone to shame with her attitude, grace, and sheer outlook on life. I really wish I could be a little more like her, but I’m just too competitive, and my pride usually gets in the way.
After chatting with Kayla and setting up my things, I’m completely exhausted. All I can think about is taking a shower, but I really need some food for my room first. I ask Kayla if she needs anything from the store before we head out. I noticed that she already has a bunch of food on the top of her closet, but I figure it’s still nice to ask. She reassures me she’s all set, so my parents and I head out to the store.
I catch a couple of tears pricking my mom’s eyes as we peruse the snack aisle. I ignore it for the moment since she cries over everything. I need to conserve my energy for the waterworks that are going to ensue when we get ready to say our goodbyes later.
As we continue through the store, I grab some basic dorm snacks—granola bars, macaroni and cheese, oatmeal, popcorn, animal crackers, bottled water—considering that I only have a microwave and a small refrigerator in my room. While I’m on a meal plan, there may be days that I don’t feel like going to the cafeteria for food or days that I come back from practice still hungry, so I figure it’s best to stock up on easily accessible meals.
“This should be enough to hold me over in between the meals at the cafeteria,” I say, looking over at my parents.
My mom smiles at me and nods, tears welling in her eyes once again.
We get back to my dorm with my survival groceries in hand, and my dad turns to my mom and suggests that it’s time for them to head back home. We walk through the hallways to the main lobby door, and I can feel the tears swell in my eyes. I bite my cheek to hold back the tears, not wanting to cry in front of all the people walking in and out of the dorm. Even though I know other people are crying, I stay stoic so I don’t set my mom off. I choke out a goodbye as I hug my parents. My mom holds back her tears as well as they walk out the door. I stand there a moment, watching them walk to the car as I gather my thoughts. I’m on my own now. I pull myself together and wave as they get into their car before turning back to my dorm room, ready to see what my new life will bring.
Challenge Me: Breaking by Victoria Maurer is - unashamed and unapologetically - smut. And this reviewer loved it.
The story unfolds when freshman in college, Elizabeth, moves from home for the first time into her college dorm. She is a collegiate level athlete for her school's swim team. (A big appeal for this reviewer, as I was also a swimmer throughout my childhood and teenage years. I appreciated the swim references and it brought up a lot of fond memories!) There, Elizabeth is hoping to focus on her grades and her sport, but ends up meeting Jason.
Jason is the stubborn, beautiful, and challenging sophomore on the swim team. He is mysterious and commanding. Obviously Elizabeth can't resist. What unfolds is a love story between two swimmers that is steamy, steamy, steamy.
I personally read this book really quickly. I was just drawn in so fast, and the way Maurer wrote the explicit scenes felt a lot more realistic than other romance novels. I did find myself eager to read the sequel, so whenever that is released, I'm going to need it ASAP.
The only thing I disliked about this book is that the communication between Elizabeth and Jason was so bad. I'm noticing this is a common trope in romance - it helps create tension and conflict, so I understand it. But gosh, it really bugs me. I don't hold it against the author, but that part was a struggle to me. All of the issues experienced in their relationship could have easily been solved with communication and honest discussion.
This book is a great read for those who love erotic romance novels where no details are held back. I highly suggest it for the melodrama, the blush inducing scenes, and the love story.