The Cheat Sheet

What's inside (7 sections)

1. Bree and Nathan before everything goes public
2. The tequila night and the video
3. Three weeks of pretending in public
4. What finally breaks open
5. Who will enjoy it and where it drags
6. Key takeaways
7. FAQ

I did not plan to read a football romance. A friend kept sending TikTok clips of people crying over a dance studio owner and an NFL player who buys her building, and I finally borrowed the book to see what the fuss was about. Sarah Adams first published it in 2021, and the Dell paperback runs 336 pages. I expected a lot of game scenes and locker room talk. What I got instead was a quiet friends to lovers story that spends more time in a dance studio and on a couch than on the field.

The tone surprised me. This is a warm romantic comedy with very little explicit content. People who want high heat will probably find it too tame. People who like pining and small gestures will have a better time. I finished it in two sittings because the chapters are short and the central question is simple: what happens when one best friend has been hiding love for years and the other might have been hiding it too.

Bree and Nathan before everything goes public

Bree Camden used to train as a ballet dancer. A car accident ended that path when she was younger, and she rebuilt her life around teaching. She now owns a small dance studio in Los Angeles. The studio is not fancy. The floors are worn, the rent keeps climbing, and Bree patches gaps with extra classes for kids and weekend workshops. She loves the work in a practical way. She knows the names of her students, she remembers who needs extra time on turns, and she stays late to mop.

Nathan Donelson is her best friend. He plays professional football for a fictional Los Angeles team and lives with a level of fame that Bree mostly observes from the side. On paper they should have drifted apart. He travels for games, his face shows up in commercials, and strangers shout his name in restaurants. In practice he still shows up with takeout, helps move folding chairs before recitals, and falls asleep on her couch during movies.

Adams sets up their history in small pieces rather than one long flashback. They met years ago and stayed close through Bree's injury and recovery and through Nathan's climb in football. Bree has been in love with him for a long time. She has decided, quite firmly, that saying so would ruin the friendship. Nathan gives no clear sign that he sees her as anything other than a friend, so she files the feeling away and dates other people with mixed results.

The rent problem forces the first real fight. Bree learns her landlord plans another increase that could close the studio. She starts running numbers, cutting costs, and looking at smaller spaces. Nathan hears about it and solves it the way a wealthy athlete can: he buys the entire building. He means it as protection. Bree reads it as control. She has worked hard to stand on her own after losing ballet, and having her best friend become her landlord feels humiliating even if the intention was kind. Their argument about it rings true because neither person is fully wrong. He wants to help. She wants to be allowed to fail or succeed without rescue.

The tequila night and the video

The plot turns at a party. Bree does not usually drink much, and on this night she drinks too much tequila after the building fight. She is angry, embarrassed, and tired of pretending she is fine. A reporter from TMZ starts chatting with her, and Bree, who assumes this is just casual party talk, says far too much. She admits she is in love with Nathan, describes how long she has felt that way, and jokes about his body in a way she would never say sober.

Someone films it. The clip spreads fast. By morning, sports blogs and gossip accounts are running the video with captions about Nathan's secret girlfriend. Bree wakes up horrified. She remembers pieces of the night and then sees her own face on a phone screen, talking too loudly and smiling too widely.

I thought this section worked because Adams does not make Bree look foolish for long. The shame feels real for a chapter, then the story moves to consequences. Bree worries about her students seeing it, about parents pulling kids from classes, about looking unprofessional. Nathan worries about her first, which tells you a lot about him. He does not scold her for drinking or for talking to a reporter. He asks if she ate, if she slept, if she wants him to call the studio families.

His publicist sees opportunity where they see disaster. Nathan has a clean image and a big following, and a stable relationship story helps with sponsors. Bree could use money to secure the studio. The publicist proposes a plan: pretend to date for three weeks. Attend a few events together, let photographers see them together, act affectionate in public, then part as friends once interest fades. Bree would be paid for her time, which would solve the rent gap.

Bree hates the idea and then says yes. She hates it because she will have to act in love with a man she actually loves, which sounds painful. She says yes because the studio matters more than her pride, and because Nathan asks her to trust him. Nathan agrees for his own reasons, some professional and some personal that he does not fully explain yet.

Three weeks of pretending in public

The middle of the book follows the fake dating arrangement almost week by week. There are ground rules. No touching in private beyond what is needed to practice, plenty of touching in public for cameras, no telling friends the full truth, no jealous scenes. The rules collapse quickly in small ways.

Public events take up a lot of space. They go to team charity functions, they sit together at games, they hold hands walking into restaurants. Bree learns how to smile while flashbulbs pop. Nathan learns how to stand slightly in front of her without making it obvious, so the crowd parts a little. Adams writes these scenes with attention to logistics. Where do they park so photographers get a clear shot but fans cannot block the door. Who texts the publicist when plans change. What Bree wears when she knows photos will run the next day.

Private moments matter more. Nathan starts coming to the studio early to watch the youngest class practice. He fixes a wobbly barre with tools from his car. He carries cases of water up the stairs without being asked. Bree starts leaving food in his fridge because his schedule leaves him eating gas station snacks after late flights. They practice their couple story on her couch and keep getting distracted by old jokes.

The physical tension builds slowly because both people are trying to be polite. Bree keeps reminding herself this is temporary. She counts down days. Nathan starts finding reasons to extend time together. He invites her to a family barbecue, he asks her to stay for postgame meals with teammates, he calls her after away games when he used to text. At one point Bree teaches him a simple dance combination in the studio after hours, and the scene stays with goofy footwork and laughter instead of turning into a polished romantic set piece. That choice fits the book. Their closeness grows through errands and routines rather than grand speeches.

Friends and family add pressure. Bree's fellow teachers tease her about finally dating Nathan. Parents at the studio ask for photos. Nathan's teammates make jokes that land too close to truth. One teammate in particular watches them with a knowing look that made me laugh. Bree keeps insisting to everyone that the relationship will end on schedule. Each time she says it, she sounds less convinced.

The best part of this stretch is how Adams handles Nathan's point of view. Chapters alternate between Bree and Nathan, so readers see that Nathan is not clueless. He notices Bree's habits, he remembers details about her injury and her teaching schedule, and he gets jealous in a restrained way when other men talk to her at events. He has his own fear, which is that admitting he wants more could cost him the one steady relationship in a life full of trades and headlines. His hesitation reads as caution rather than coldness.

What finally breaks open

Around the end of the three weeks, the pretending stops working. Bree decides she cannot keep acting. Every public kiss reminds her that an end date is printed on the arrangement. She starts pulling back to protect herself, skipping calls and cutting practices short. Nathan senses the distance and responds by planning bigger gestures, which only makes Bree feel more like a client than a partner.

A misunderstanding about the future brings it to a head. Bree overhears or is told something that makes her think Nathan sees the whole thing as damage control. She assumes he never felt anything real and that she misread kindness for interest. She ends the deal early and tries to return to normal, which means teaching classes with red eyes and telling friends she is fine.

Nathan's response is plain and direct. He drops the publicist language and tells Bree what he has avoided saying. He has loved her for a long time, he was afraid to risk the friendship, and he used the fake dating deal partly because it gave him a way to be close without confessing first. The confession does not come with fireworks. It happens in a normal room, with normal clothes, and Bree calls him out on waiting too long. I appreciated that she does not forgive him instantly. She asks questions. She wants to know what changes after this, how they handle fame, what happens if they break up.

The last chapters tie practical threads together. The studio gets breathing room from the money Bree earned, plus a clearer lease arrangement that respects her independence. Bree sets terms about the building so Nathan cannot override her decisions. Nathan talks to his team and his publicist about dating openly, accepting that some attention will follow Bree to work. They agree to tell close friends the truth about how it started. The final scenes show them together without cameras, doing ordinary things like cooking and driving to class. The book ends with commitment rather than a wedding, which suits two people who started as friends.

Readers who need every side plot closed may notice loose ends. The publicist moves on quickly. The reporter who filmed Bree never really returns. A few teammates blur together. Adams keeps focus on the central pair, so the wider cast stays thin.

Who will enjoy it and where it drags

This book will suit readers who like low angst and clear consent. There is no cheating, no cruel ex causing major harm, no sudden betrayal near the end to stretch pages. The conflict comes from fear of loss rather than outside villains. The humor is gentle. Nathan teases Bree about her playlists, Bree teases Nathan about his terrible dancing, and the teasing never turns mean.

The closed door approach deserves a clear note. Love scenes fade out or stay brief. Some readers will find that refreshing after heavier sports romances. Others will find it frustrating, especially during the fake dating weeks when tension runs high and then resolves off page. Blanket claims about spice level float around TikTok, so check expectations: this stays on the sweet side with cursing and some suggestive jokes but no graphic scenes.

Football fans should know the sport stays in the background. Adams includes practices, injury protocols, travel schedules, and charity events, but play by play action is rare. Nathan's job creates scheduling problems and public attention, yet the book rarely explains team strategy or season stakes. I did not mind because the story is really about housing costs, work stress, and a long friendship shifting shape. If you want detailed game writing, look elsewhere.

Pacing sags a little in the middle. Once the rules of fake dating are clear, several events repeat the same beat: pose for cameras, feel something real, panic in private. Two scenes could have been cut without losing meaning. Bree's internal monologue also circles. She reminds herself she is just the best friend, then reminds herself again a page later. The repetition makes sense for someone trying to talk herself out of hope, but it slows chapters that already run long on logistics.

The writing itself is plain in a good way. Dialogue sounds like texts and kitchen talk rather than speeches. Bree's narration includes lists of tasks, grocery needs, class plans. Nathan's narration includes training notes and travel fatigue. That ordinary texture helps the famous athlete premise feel less glossy. Los Angeles reads as apartments and parking lots and studio mirrors rather than beaches and premieres.

I would recommend it to anyone who liked the softer parts of Emily Henry or Abby Jimenez but wants even less angst. It also works as a palate cleanser between heavier books. It asks little, it delivers a steady romance, and it treats dance teaching as real labor instead of a cute hobby. Bree worries about insurance, flooring, enrollment, and rent, and those details get as much care as the romance.

My main complaint is that Nathan can feel too perfect. He buys buildings, remembers anniversaries, defends Bree without prompting, and rarely makes a selfish choice. A flaw or two beyond stubbornness would have made his late confession hit harder. Bree gets more room to be prickly and tired and unfair, which is why her chapters were my favorites. She snaps about the building, she drinks too much and owns it, she sets terms at the end instead of melting. That spine keeps the book from turning sugary.

Taken as a whole, The Cheat Sheet does what it promises. Two friends pretend to date, the pretending exposes what was already there, and both people have to decide if they will risk comfort for something larger. It is not a book about football so much as a book about asking for help without giving up independence. I closed it thinking about the studio more than the stadium, which seems right for Bree's story.

FAQ

Is The Cheat Sheet part of a series?

Yes. It is book 1 in Sarah Adams's The Cheat Sheet series, followed by The Rule Book, which follows another couple connected to Nathan's football world.

When was The Cheat Sheet first published?

It was first published in 2021, with the Dell paperback edition released on April 26, 2022 with 336 pages.

Is The Cheat Sheet spicy?

No, it stays on the sweet side with brief fade out love scenes, cursing, and suggestive jokes. Readers wanting explicit sports romance may find it too tame.