Do I like Ted Lasso? Yes. Do I like the Bergman Brothers? Yes. So why the hell wouldn't I like this epic mishmash?

This book is confetti and glitter shot out of a cannon compared to the rest of the series. There's so much angst and banter, rather than the ooey gooey instalove I've come to expect from Chloe Liese. Am I blinded by my love for Roy Kent? Maybe. But I really enjoyed how Oliver was portrayed from the perspective of someone with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and how we get to see some cracks in his sunshine and rainbows attitude. I'm left craving a Viggo book like it's nobody's business, but alas...