In this dual timeline contemporary romance, we follow the lives of Luke, the world’s hottest surfer, and Juliet, a beautiful woman ostensibly characterized as a musician. This label feels tenuous at best, as the narrative divulges virtually nothing about her career, her music, or her perception of fame. Juliet’s primary role seems to be that of the romantic heroine, her identity revolving around her love for the hero. (I think this is the current take on hero centric romance: the heroine exists just to bask in the excellence of the object of her love/lust.) Their love story is complicated by an insurmountable barrier related to the death of Danny, Luke’s best friend from college. Which is frustrating because the friendship between Danny and Luke is puzzling: Danny is depicted as a self-absorbed man-child, while Luke is a hyper-masculine figure capable of seeing Juliet’s true self. I couldn’t see the problem.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The story kicks off in the present day, where Juliet and Luke have returned to the small town Juliet and Danny hailed from. They’re collaborating with Danny’s mother to open a home for foster kids, a project funded by all the money Juliet and Luke have earned from their very successful careers. We quickly learn the two haven’t seen each other since Danny’s death seven years prior and, whoa, is there a bunch of unresolved sh*t between them. 

Why? Well, ten years ago, after his first year in college, Danny brought his best bud–again, no clue why they are friends–Luke home for the summer to stay with his very Christian parents, and Juliet, whom they took in after she ran away from her abusive family. Danny’s father, a pastor, is a judgmental figure who tolerates Juliet’s presence but constantly reminds her that she’s there on sufferance. His mother, Donna, is a misguided gem. Danny and Juliet are dating, and Danny, his parents, and all the townsfolk assume that Danny will someday be the pastor, with Juliet his subservient wife.

Juliet is not enthusiastic about this life. She dreams of being a singer-songwriter, a passion she can’t pursue in the constraining environment Danny’s family offers. (But she’s so grateful to them for taking her in that she can’t rebel because it would be hurtful. Sigh.) Plus, she loves Danny or so she thinks she does… until the moment she meets Luke.

Luke, who is big, tall, strong, gorgeous, given to five words sentences and few smiles, makes her lady parts hum and her stomach flip. This makes sense, given that Danny doesn’t believe in any pre-marital hanky panky. He is a virgin. Juliet is not–she was forced into sex with her much older step-brother when she was a teen. This abuse complicates matters; she’s experienced sex as both a pleasurable and painful act. O’Roark writes Juliet’s ambivalence and trauma with nuance and, in doing so, makes Juliet’s often self-destructive behavior understandable but she still drove me crazy.

We know almost nothing about how Luke feels–I mean, obviously he’s been in love with Juliet since day one–because the book is all told from Juliet’s point of view. This isn’t great–she’s a giant martyr and isn’t one to share anything non-Danny or non-Luke related. I still have no idea how successful she is as a musician, what she thinks about her work, or what her favorite song is. I do know that Luke is a world famous surfer who beats up anyone who is or has been a threat to Juliet. He also looks amazing naked.

The narrative oscillates between the present, where Juliet and Luke’s unspoken history brims with tension, and the past, where readers anticipate their inevitable affair. The predictable plot structure becomes frustrating as not much happens. In both timelines, Luke and Juliet are stupid in lust with one another–this book has some serious sexual tension–and most readers will be flipping the pages ready for the two to finally jump each other’s bones. We do know that Juliet feels guilty about Danny’s death and Luke does not. Why that is, the reader must wait until the very end to find out. (It was not worth the wait.) 

Despite these criticisms, I enjoyed reading this book. O’Rourke’s talent for crafting voices and memorable characters shines through. Their circle of friends, Danny’s complex relationship with his parents, and the awful childhoods Luke and Juliet experienced are all believable and compelling. The love scenes are intensely passionate–O’Rourke writes steamy sex fabulously. The angst in the book isn’t super deep but it’s real enough to make The Summer We Fell more than just fun froth.

The book is sexy and fun and O’Rourke’s skill with dialogue and character creation is evident–I get why her work is popular. However, this particular book feels like a missed opportunity, with an underdeveloped heroine and a plot that doesn’t surprise. This makes it a B/B- read.