Play Me

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at the ‘babysitting the bad boy’ premise—until Mollie Stark’s first line. Her delivery of the heroine’s *genuine* irritation (not the performative kind) hooked me instantly. This isn’t a woman who’s *pretending* to hate the hero; she *legitimately* can’t stand him, and Stark makes every eye-roll and muttered insult feel earned. Sebastian York, meanwhile, takes what could’ve been a one-note jerk and layers in charm, vulnerability, and just enough self-awareness to keep him from being insufferable. Their back-and-forth in the early chapters is *electric*—the kind of audiobook you’ll rewind just to hear the timing again. That said, the middle act drags slightly with repetitive will-they-won’t-they beats, and the rugby subplot occasionally feels like it’s checking boxes rather than deepening the stakes. But the narration saves even the weaker moments: York’s smolder during the sex scenes is *ridiculous* in the best way, and Stark’s quiet vulnerability in the emotional climax gives the romance real weight. The production is polished, with seamless transitions between POVs and no distracting audio quirks. If you love enemies-to-lovers but are tired of heroes who are all bark, or heroines who fold too easily, *Play Me* delivers—especially in audio, where the chemistry isn’t just on the page, it’s in your ears.