While at RT this year, I had a great time talking with other readers and of course, the most prevailing question was, “What do you like to read?” Here at SBTB HQ, we all tend to have our little niches. There’s some overlap, but there is usually a genre or two that each of us really, really loves. For me, I’m a huge fan of contemporary romances with athletes.

Whenever I would answer that inevitable reading question with my love of sports romances, nine times out of ten, the follow-up response would be, “Have you read The Deal?” I had not and reading recommendations seem to be an occupational hazard around here.

So of course, after my eighth recommendation to read this book, I feel like it would be a disservice if I didn’t. And the cover is certainly easy on the eyes.

To preface this review, this book is New Adult, a genre that we’re pretty opinionated about here. We even had a podcast about it, and I’m rather divided on the matter. I haven’t read many NA that I’ve enjoyed, but I think it might be because my college experience tends to differ from the traditional NA college experience. There’s also the common trope of using trauma, rape especially, as a backstory for many NA characters.

And The Deal is no exception to that trope, so TRIGGER WARNING for future discussion.

In short, heroine Hannah Wells was date raped at a party while in high school and it ruined her. That particular storyline is very reminiscent of high school rapes, Stuebenville especially. Things happen at a party where athletes are concerned. Said athletes are protected by the town, and there’s a lot of victim blaming.

Now a junior in college, Hannah is doing well as a music major, though she’s had a string of sexual issues in her adult relationships. She can’t seem to orgasm, and she believes this is tied to her rape. Totally understandable. Hannah also has eyes for football player, Justin Kohl, who also happens to share her Ethics class. Hockey captain, Garrett Graham is currently bombing Ethics. But after seeing that Hannah aced her midterm, he is determined to enlist her help to get his grade up. Failing grades mean no more hockey.

Hannah doesn’t seem to want anything from Garrett, until she realizes that her involvement with him seems to attract Justin’s attention. The ol’ wanting-what-you-can’t-have scenario. So they strike a deal. If Hannah can help Garrett pass the makeup midterm and bring his grade up, he’ll help her bag Justin. By essentially pretending to date.

This was like a mix of a relationship of convenience trope and She’s All That. And if you know me, you know that I love the shit out of She’s All That. In fact, after I finished this book, I found that puppy on Netflix.

Oh, Freddie Prinze, Jr.

Normally, I’m pretty critical of anything having to do with rape and sexual assault in romance, especially as backstory. But I think the way it was handled in The Deal is one of the best things about this book.

The incident happened when Hannah was fifteen and she’s currently twenty in the book. Hannah talks about her former therapy sessions and things she’s learned to help cope. She’s conscious and aware that this is something that happened to her, but it doesn’t have to be a defining moment.

There’s a great scene where she finally tells Garrett about it, and he’s livid. He’s pissed that this happened to her and her rapist didn’t receive anything close to a punishment. It comes up in conversation a couple times and usually, Hannah is the one to have to calm Garrett. She’s had years to deal with this, and there are other victims out there who still struggle in a million ways, shapes, and forms. But I think Hannah is a good example of a character with rape as a backstory, but one whose backstory doesn’t become the focal point of her characterization.

“The rape ?” She smiles wryly. “You can say the word , you know. It’s not contagious.”

“I know .” I swallow. “I just don’t like saying it because it makes it feel… real, I guess. And I can’t stomach the thought that it happened to you.”

“But it did,” she says softly. “You can’t pretend otherwise.”

From a romance perspective, The Deal was all right. I seem to be picking books lately where the couple gets together rather quickly or easily, and most of the conflicts come from outside sources, rather than issues within the relationship.

Admittedly, I was at first put off by Garrett’s persistence. Hannah says no, multiple times, to tutoring him, but he keeps on. Showing up at her work, getting her phone number from a study group sign-up sheet, etc. I don’t understand why he just try to find someone else who passed the midterm. I’m sure he could’ve talked to his teacher and she could’ve suggested some students.

I will give some kudos to some pretty primo sex scenes though. Since Hannah has expressed difficulties with orgasming during sex, Garrett pulls out all the stops to make sure she’s comfortable enough to get off. It’s actually kind of…sweet. Especially when Hannah cries and launches herself into his arms afterward because it’s been years since she had an orgasm with anyone but herself.

For secondary characters, I’m torn. The friends of both Garrett and Hannah were nice and supportive, but there were a lot of unnecessarily shitty people. Like the horribleness of these people was a bit gratuitous.

An abusive, power-hungry father.

A rapist with friends with lied for him under oath.

A fellow student in Hannah’s music program who is hell bent on screwing her over in their duet.

It’s a lot. And both Hannah and Garrett deal with these people in rapid fire during the last quarter of the book. Maybe the climax of these relationships would have been better if they were spaced out in the book, rather than just lumping them in at the end because I’m sure I suffered from emotional whiplash.

But despite the cast of garbage people and the lukewarm romance, The Deal did give me this scene and for that, I am grateful.

I burst into the locker room and—

Penises!

Sweet Jesus.

Penises everywhere.

Horror slams into me as I register what I’m seeing . Oh God. I’ve stumbled onto a penis convention. Big penises and small penises and fat penises and penis-shaped penises. It doesn’t matter which direction I move my head because everywhere I look I see penises.

My mortified gasp draws the attention of every penis— er, guy, in the room. In a heartbeat, towels snap up and hands cover junk and bodies shuffle around, while I stand in the front of the room blushing like a tomato.