P.S. I Hate You by Winter Renshaw
Published by Self-published on March 28th 2018
Genres: Contemporary Romance
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Eight months ago, you were just a soldier about to be deployed and I was just a waitress, sneaking you free pancakes and hoping you wouldn’t notice that my gaze was lingering a little too long.
But you did notice.
We spent a “week of Saturdays” together before you left, and we said goodbye on day eight, exchanging addresses at the last minute.
I saved every letter you ever sent, your words quickly becoming my religion.
But you went radio silent on me months ago, and then you had the audacity to walk into my diner yesterday and act like you’d never seen me in your life.
To think … I almost loved you and your beautifully complicated soul.
Whatever your reason is—I hope it’s a good one.
Maritza the Waitress
PS – I hate you, and this time … I mean it.
I voluntarily reviewed a complimentary copy of this book.
I really liked the premise of P.S. I Hate You where there were letters exchanged between a girl and a hot guy in the military. I’m kind of a sucker for this type of story.
Maritza is working as a waitress in a pancake restaurant in LA while figuring out what to do with her life, and Isaiah is a very PIA customer. A very hot PIA, but a total jerk nonetheless. Good thing she’ll probably never have to see him again.
When their worlds collide again, quite literally, it results in them spending time together. Even though neither seems to actually like the other, their attraction is very powerful, and they decide to hang out unromantically for the week that Isaiah has before deploying again.
Needless to say, their chemistry soon outweighs their mutual “dislike” and they end up forging a pseudo-relationship/friendship where they’ll exchange letters. Until the letters stop coming and everything goes to shit.
I have to confess that I wasn’t expecting this to have such a strong NA feel to it. If I’m being honest I felt both, but Maritza especially, acted immaturely in many ways. I understand nowadays we see 60-year-old adolescents… I just don’t really enjoy reading about them.
Maritza had a sunny personality, she was spontaneous and surprisingly not vain given her background. She had sass, even if sometimes totally out of place, and was funny.
Isaiah was 97% jerk unless he was with his mom. Once we learn of his past (and let me tell you, that whole thing maxed out my ridiculous meter) I could kinda see why he was that way. After he gets over himself, he was super sweet.
“I don’t know how else to describe you other than you’re everything I never knew I wanted, everything I never knew was possible to have.”
The fact that both main characters acted childishly in my eyes, took some of the enjoyment out of the reading experience. Let’s just say my eyeballs got a very high-intensity workout with all the rolling they did. That said, I liked the overall story and how they bugged each other plus the fact that they were really hot together didn’t hurt at all. Still, I would have liked more for them to act a bit more like grown-ups.
P.S. I Hate You was a great concept. A sweet story that wasn’t “done” totally to my personal taste, but if you never try new authors you never know what you’re missing. All in all, it was a pleasant read.
Rating: 3 Stars
There’s no denying something’s there, something that makes my heart trot when he looks at me, something that makes me slick on an extra coat of lip balm or an extra spritz of perfume before dashing out the door to meet him.
And while I’m the one who made the rules—no romance and only honesty at all times—I’m the one who can’t stop thinking about what would happen if we broke one of them.
Only problem is, I have zero idea if he’s thinking what I’m thinking. He’s so even-keeled and emotionally guarded, but they say actions speak louder than words and the fact that he’s here, spending time with me doing stupid shit has to count for something … right?
“Why are you staring like that?” Isaiah asks when he turns around.
My cheeks warm. I’d been spacing off. “No reason.”
“Bullshit. You can’t lie, remember? Tell me what you were thinking about.” His lips draw into a playful smirk, and I can’t decide if I like his mysterious side or his spirited side best. It’s like trying to choose between white chocolate and milk chocolate, which are both delicious in their own ways.
“You don’t want to know.”
And I’m serious. He doesn’t want to know that I’m thinking about him in a way that I was determined not to. Besides, he’s leaving in a few days. There’s no point in ruining the rest of our time together by making this situation unnecessarily complicated.
“Try me,” he says, his stare boring into me. Something tells me he’s not going to let this go.
Giving myself a moment, I gather my thoughts and nibble on my lower lip. “I was just thinking about connections.”
“Connections?” His hands rest on his hips, his shoulders parallel with mine. I have his full, undivided attention.
“I was just thinking about how I hardly know you, but I feel connected to you,” I say, cringing on the inside but fully embracing the discomfiture of this conversation.
He says nothing, which doesn’t make this moment any less awkward for the both of us.
“You asked!” I remind him, throwing my hands up.
Another moment passes, the two of us lingering next to some hairy elephant-looking creature with a long-as-hell scientific name as a group of children runs past us.
“Now I want to know what you’re thinking about.” I nudge his arm. “It’s only fair.”
He smirks, then it fades, and he gazes into the distance. It’s like there’s something on the tip of his tongue, but if I push or prod too much, he’ll never share it.
“Nothing, Maritza. I was thinking about nothing.”
I don’t buy it, but I don’t press any further. I want to burn this awkward moment into a pile of ash and move on.
“Are you going to remember me after this week?” I ask after a bout of silence.
His golden irises glint as his eyes narrow in my direction. “What kind of question is that?”
“A legit one,” I say. “Will you remember me? Or am I always just going to be that waitress girl that you hung out with for a week?”
“Don’t think I could forget you if I tried.” He speaks in such a way that I’m not sure if what he’s saying is a good thing or a bad thing. “Can I be honest right now?”
“You must. It’s a requirement.”
Isaiah’s tongue grazes his full lips for a quick second and he holds my gaze for what feels like forever. “I don’t want to make this any more confusing for either of us, but I feel like kissing you right now.”
I fight a smile. I don’t want to smile. I want to scoff at him and tell him to stop being such a hypocrite.
But that’s only half of me.
The other half of me wants him to kiss me, wants his hands in my hair and his taste on my tongue just one more time because we’ll never have this moment again and once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.
Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.
And if you’d like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here —> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j
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