Poppy and Alex are best friends who want different things in life. Friends-to-lovers is my absolute favorite romance trope, so I will read any book recommended to me with that swoon-worthy storyline. That said, I could never rank People We Meet on Vacation among comparable novels of this ilk that I’ve read. I don’t know how Emily Henry does it, but this novel manages to draw out the developing, slow-burn romance in such a way that every little touch, every flicker of eye contact, every bravely flirtatious comment, feels like it’s setting the room on fire. By the time Poppy and Alex—who believe they’re incompatible—realize they’re madly in love with each other, it feels so earned, so real, and so special. Do. Not. Miss. This. Book.
“Tell me I’m not the reason you’re not married with kids right now, and everything else you wanted.”
He stares at me, face terse, eyes dark and cloudy.
“Tell me,” I beg, and he just stares at me, the silence of the room adding to the buzz inside my skull.
Finally, he shakes his head. “Of course it’s because of you.”