Note: We read this book as an advanced review copy (ARC) given to our parent companies, everafterbooks.uk and theubergroup.org.
The coolest thing I noticed in the contemporary romance novel Kiss Me Maybe was how the main character, Angela Gutierrez, used the community she built online to work through the complexities of self-discovery as an ace-spec queer person. This framework made the nuances of the queer spectrum much more accessible to readers outside the community (or queer folks who aren't familiar with asexuality, graysexuality, or demisexuality), while also highlighting how prominent these lesser-known identities truly are.
Mild spoilers follow.
Angela's cousin, Julian, faced a lot of backlash from their family when he came out. Angela herself was bullied by two other cousins when they learned she still hadn't had her first kiss by twelfth grade. Because of this, she struggled with her ace-spec identity for many years. This is something a lot of queer people, myself included, encounter when we experience such deep, personal trauma as we're entering those formative years when one's own sexuality starts to truly blossom. It was refreshing to see Angela's journey portrayed in such a frank, thoughtful way. It was especially refreshing to see ace representation in a contemporary romance.
At twenty-seven years old, Angela—a librarian and avid reader of historical romance—is tired of waiting for love to find her, especially when she isn't sure what love might look like for an ace lesbian. After posting an "accidental thirst trap" on TikTok that goes mega viral, she decides to use her newfound fame to get her first kiss out of the way by making it the prize in an elaborate scavenger hunt. Meanwhile, she's also juggling a massive crush on her favorite bartender, Krystal Ramirez, and grappling with the continued fallout of Julian's rejection by his own father and other members of their extended family.
Angela's evolving understanding of herself and her desires is a central theme of the story, and it's written masterfully, allowing readers unfamiliar with asexuality in particular to understand the gradations and complexities of one of the most misunderstood queer identities. Her confusion and frustration as she navigates the swell of online attention (and, inevitably, trolls and bullying) alongside her growing feelings for Krystal was painful and relatable and beautiful.
While everyone's queer identities are handled with care and thoughtfulness, the rest of the plot falls apart quickly. It relies heavily on convenience and coincidence. In the most glaring example of this, despite the size of San Antonio, everybody seems to know absolutely everybody else: one of Angela's TikTok friends moves to the area without knowing she's there; Julian has dated said TikTok friend in the past; Krystal just so happens to know a friend of the reclusive artist they'd otherwise have no way of contacting; Krystal's ex shows up at Angela's house as her cousin's date right in time to deliver some crushing exposition. If this was a small town romance, I could believe it, but I checked and there are 1.5 million people living in San Antonio.
An enormous amount of focus and importance is placed on Angela getting her first kiss, but she has two (super spicy) sexual encounters with Krystal during which they don't kiss on the mouth because I guess we're just being picky and specific. I read a lot of romance (nature of the business and all), and while Kiss Me Maybe hits all the expected beats at all the expected times, Angela's obsessive dedication to pulling off this TikTok stunt because her followers expect it makes all of her encounters with and feelings for Krystal seem cheap. She purposefully holds back from the love interest of the story because she's worried about fake internet points. Her following is more important to her than Krystal's feelings. While this might have been at least somewhat believable in a YA novel with a protagonist still in high school, it's frustrating and bizarre for a main character scraping thirty. It's impossible to believe this is a couple built to last, which is what most of us pick up a romance novel expecting to find.
At the end of the day, I would heartily recommend this book to other queer people looking for representation of identity groups that are woefully absent from mainstream media, but if you're here for the romance or the overall plot? Pass.