“I don’t think I could have a single feeling about you that’s wasted.”
Can you hear me swooning already?
We Could Be So Good was one of my favourite reads of last year so I told myself before going into this book that I should adjust my expectations. I knew I was going to have a great time (it’s a Cat Sebastian novel, after all) but I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment.
Tell me why, then, Eddie and Mark somehow made me question whether I loved their story more than We Could Be So Good? What is this sorcery? Like, I can’t even be mad about it because You Should Be So Lucky only enhanced my love for We Could Be So Good.
But let’s get into it the plot first.
In the 1960s, we meet Eddie O’Leary, the star shortstop struggling with a batting slump, who finds himself reluctantly paired with Mark Bailey, a grieving reporter, for a series of interviews. Neither of them is thrilled about the arrangement—Eddie’s battling his own demons on the field, while Mark is reeling from personal loss. As they navigate the pressures of their respective worlds, Eddie and Mark can’t stay away from each other and instead find solace and connection in each other’s company, despite the challenges of secrecy and societal expectations. But with Eddie’s career on the line and Mark determined not to hide anymore, they must confront their fears and decide if their budding relationship is worth risking everything for.
How to describe Eddie and Mark’s romance in one word? Soft. Honestly, the entirety of You Should Be so Lucky feels like a warm hug on a chilly day from your favourite person in the whole world. Mark’s (for a good reason) a bit of a grump yet unapologetically himself while Eddie is truly the golden retriever cinnamon roll you can’t help but immediately want to cuddle. Both of them aren’t at their best when they meet, yet their broken parts somehow fit together so perfectly. From the beginning, you can tell that the attraction and chemistry isn’t one-sided and their careful tip-toeing around each other had me putting down the book multiple times so I could either 1) kick my feet in the air, giggling or 2) groan “kiss already, you dorks”—which to me, is the sign of an unforgettably good romance. But what I think I loved most about their romance was just how perfectly matched they were. Sure, it’s an opposites attract romance, but boy, are these two perceptive of each other’s needs and desires. Eddie sees so many small things and makes Mark’s day by doing so while Mark really comes to understand so much of Eddie without him ever telling him with mere words. Their love for each other made my heart feel so full.
As it’s the mid-century, being out and proud isn’t really a choice for either Mark or Eddie since they have very prominent jobs that they would for sure lose if the truth came out—not to mention that it’s still illegal. The careful discussions around this, especially with Mark not wanting to be hidden away due to his experiences in the past and how it affected his self-confidence, hurt in the best way possible. Sebastian combines this tough topic with heartfelt revelations about identity, safety and what it takes to be happy and how to make your own place in a world that doesn’t want to give you an inch. Mark and Eddie’s struggle feels so visceral, yet there’s always an underlying tone of hope as they find their way to a happy life together.
Beyond excellent relationship development, you also have so much personal growth. Both men are grieving in different ways for different things, yet their connection with each other is what helps them both heal the broken parts of their pasts. Mark, especially, spoke to me as he faced hiding his grief while also not wanting to be stuck in the past forever. What I think I love most is that he had this small network of queer friends that helped him to the best of their abilities yet he also found allies in the most unexpected of places. It really solidifies the notion that found family can sometimes be all you need to succeed. Eddie’s personal growth is closely related to his time on the baseball field—but less to numbers or homeruns (I have no clue about baseball, excuse me) and more to self-confidence, believing in yourself and believing in your right to the place you have stubbornly earned. Really, the personal character growth of these two made the novel stand out even more.
One note also needs to be said about Sebastian’s atmospheric writing. Now, I have a notoriously hard time picturing things in my mind while reading, yet Sebastian always manages to create such an intricate world, be it through small mentions of details that fit the decade the characters are living in, or dropping in hints about events that were happening around that timespan that influenced how everyone saw and experienced the world. To me, worldbuilding is at its best when it feels effortless (which means there was probably a whole lot of effort put into making it feel so easy).
Lastly, if you’ve read We Could Be So Good, you’ll also see a few familiar faces as we bump into them and since Mark does work with some of them (and if you haven’t read it, that’s fine, too, every connection is explained). For me, that was just the little cherry on top to get to see new characters connect with ones I’ve already come to love.
Immersive, mesmerising and altogether wholesome, You Should Be So Lucky invites you to fall in love with the best grumpy/sunshine pairing of the mid-century. Prepare for a home run of a slow-burn romance and an emotional reading experience like no other.
You Should Be So Lucky is available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other good book retailers, like your local bookstore, as of May 7th 2024.
Will you be picking up You Should Be So Lucky? Tell us in the comments below!
Synopsis | Goodreads
An emotional, slow-burn, grumpy/sunshine, queer mid-century romance for fans of Evvie Drake Starts Over, about grief and found family, between the new star shortstop stuck in a batting slump and the reporter assigned to (reluctantly) cover his first season—set in the same universe as We Could Be So Good.
The 1960 baseball season is shaping up to be the worst year of Eddie O’Leary’s life. He can’t manage to hit the ball, his new teammates hate him, he’s living out of a suitcase, and he’s homesick. When the team’s owner orders him to give a bunch of interviews to some snobby reporter, he’s ready to call it quits. He can barely manage to behave himself for the length of a game, let alone an entire season. But he’s already on thin ice, so he has no choice but to agree.
Mark Bailey is not a sports reporter. He writes for the arts page, and these days he’s barely even managing to do that much. He’s had a rough year and just wants to be left alone in his too-empty apartment, mourning a partner he’d never been able to be public about. The last thing he needs is to spend a season writing about New York’s obnoxious new shortstop in a stunt to get the struggling newspaper more readers.
Isolated together within the crush of an anonymous city, these two lonely souls orbit each other as they slowly give in to the inevitable gravity of their attraction. But Mark has vowed that he’ll never be someone’s secret ever again, and Eddie can’t be out as a professional athlete. It’s just them against the world, and they’ll both have to decide if that’s enough.
