Wyatt

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at the ‘hockey star with a heart of gold’ premise—until Wyatt Marshall proceeded to spend the first three chapters being a spectacular jerk. That’s when I knew *Wyatt* was something special. Warren doesn’t let her hero off easy, and Rubart’s narration leans into that discomfort, his voice tightening with frustration during Wyatt’s self-pitying rants and softening almost imperceptibly when Coco’s name comes up. It’s a subtle performance, but that’s what makes it brilliant. You believe this is a man who’s spent his life performing, even when he’s alone. The romantic suspense here isn’t about a stalker or a mystery—it’s about the suspense of *emotional honesty*. Will Wyatt tell Coco about his injury? Will she call him out for treating her like a project instead of a partner? The pacing drags slightly in the middle during the Montana ranch scenes (even Rubart’s folksy secondary-character voices can’t salvage some overly long introspection), but the payoff—a third-act confrontation that’s equal parts devastating and cathartic—is worth it. My only real critique? The ending wraps up *just* a little too neatly for a story that otherwise thrives on messiness. Still, if you’ve ever loved someone who’s better at protecting goals than their own heart, this audiobook will gut you. Bring tissues. And maybe a hockey stick, for good measure.