Lynn Painter returns to her signature territory—charming contemporary romance with a dash of nostalgia—in Fake Skating, a sports romance that takes readers to Southview, Minnesota, where hockey isn’t just a sport, it’s a religion. This fourth standalone novel from the author of the wildly popular Better Than the Movies and Nothing Like the Movies attempts to skate the fine line between small-town sports culture and emotional authenticity, with results that are both endearing and occasionally frustrating.
The premise hooks you immediately: Dani Collins returns to her Minnesota hometown after years away, expecting to reconnect with the nerdy, comforting boy she left behind. Instead, she finds Alec Barczewski transformed into Zeus—the town’s golden hockey god, worshipped by locals and drowning in the pressure of carrying Southview’s championship dreams. When circumstances force them into a fake dating arrangement that benefits them both, what starts as strategic theater quickly becomes something neither can control.
The Heart of the Story: More Than Just a Game
Painter demonstrates her signature strength in creating relatable characters whose vulnerabilities feel authentic rather than manufactured. Dani’s anxiety about public speaking, her complicated relationship with her divorced parents, and her desperate need to secure a spot at Harvard through an extracurricular activity give her dimension beyond the typical YA romance protagonist. She’s not just the quirky new girl who catches the popular boy’s eye; she’s someone genuinely struggling with identity, belonging, and the weight of familial expectations.
Alec’s characterization proves equally compelling. Beneath the confident hockey star exterior lies a young man carrying impossible burdens. His father’s devastating truck accident and the family’s resulting financial strain have transformed hockey from passion into lifeline. The pressure to be drafted professionally, to save his family from debt, to finally bring Southview its elusive championship—these aren’t just plot devices but genuine sources of anxiety that Painter handles with surprising nuance. The moments when Alec admits his fear, when he pops ibuprofen and applies lidocaine patches to his deteriorating shoulder while hiding his pain from everyone, reveal a character trapped between what he loves and what he owes.
The fake dating trope receives fresh treatment through Painter’s attention to emotional complexity. Rather than relying solely on manufactured proximity and convenient misunderstandings, the arrangement stems from legitimate needs: Alec requires rehabilitation of his playboy reputation after being photographed with a bong, while Dani needs protection from rumors about being caught in the locker room with him. Their negotiation includes a particularly clever twist—Dani insists she controls when the relationship ends, acknowledging the gendered reality that girls suffer more reputational damage in breakups. This awareness elevates the story beyond simple romantic fantasy.
The Minnesota Hockey Culture: Authenticity on Ice
Painter’s portrayal of Minnesota hockey culture deserves recognition for its specificity and warmth. The Polish National Alliance bar where the community celebrates victories, the Cro (Croatian social hall), the reverence for Mick Boche as a former enforcer, the state tournament at the Xcel Energy Center—these details ground the story in a believable world where hockey isn’t just entertainment but communal identity. The author captures how sports can unite communities while simultaneously creating crushing expectations for young athletes.
The boot hockey scenes, where players run on frozen ponds hitting a ball with sticks, provide delightful comic relief while showcasing Dani’s gradual integration into this hockey-obsessed world. Her grandfather’s patient coaching, her fumbling attempts to understand the sport, and her eventual enthusiasm demonstrate character growth that feels earned rather than rushed. When Dani starts making sandwiches for Alec’s library lunches and wears his hockey jersey, these gestures carry weight because we’ve watched her journey from outsider to insider.
Where the Ice Gets Thin: Structural Issues and Pacing Problems
Despite its considerable strengths, Fake Skating by Lynn Painter stumbles in its execution, particularly in the third act. The breakup orchestrated by Benji Worthington—Alec’s rival who blackmails Dani into ending their relationship to protect Alec’s season—feels both contrived and rushed. While Benji’s villainy is established early, his sudden escalation to threatening Alec’s hockey career over a fabricated violation lacks the psychological foundation to be truly believable. The conflict resolution similarly speeds past emotional complexity; Dani’s panic attack and confession to Grandpa Mick lead too quickly to reconciliation without fully exploring the damage caused by her deception.
The book’s treatment of Alec’s shoulder injury presents another problematic element. Throughout the narrative, we witness him self-medicating, hiding his pain from coaches and teammates, and jeopardizing his long-term health for short-term performance. While this authentically depicts the dangerous culture surrounding youth sports injuries, the story never adequately addresses the ethical implications. Alec’s eventual championship performance, achieved while playing through significant pain, gets celebrated rather than critically examined. This sends a troubling message about sacrifice and athletic culture that undermines the book’s otherwise thoughtful approach to pressure and mental health.
The supporting cast, while charming, occasionally blurs together. Teammates like Kyle, Richie, and Vinny with his “wall of human with ridiculous hair” all serve primarily as comic relief and Greek chorus to the central romance. Cassie, the team manager and Dani’s friend, shows potential as a fully realized character but remains underutilized. More development of these relationships would have enriched the community feeling Painter clearly aims to create.
The Romance: When Fake Becomes Real
Where Painter excels is in crafting those small, intimate moments that transform pretend into genuine connection. Alec and Dani’s library lunches become the emotional core of the story—quiet scenes where they share books, food, and gradually, vulnerabilities. The way Alec watches Dani gnaw her bottom lip while reading, how she remembers he once trusted only her to choose his library books, the progression from tentative conversation to comfortable silence—these details accumulate into a convincing portrait of falling in love.
The physical chemistry receives equal attention. Painter writes kissing scenes with specificity—apple juice and flowers become Dani’s signature scent in Alec’s mind, while his intensity and size create a physicality that Dani finds both overwhelming and addictive. The scene where Dani applies lidocaine patches to Alec’s bare shoulder crackles with tension precisely because it isn’t meant to be romantic; the fumbling awareness, the professional distance attempted and failed, makes it more charged than any planned intimate moment.
Their first kiss, initiated as kids in a shed over a dare, establishes a pattern that repeats throughout: these two have always affected each other deeply, even when circumstances force separation. The revelation that Alec wrote Dani letters during his father’s accident—letters she never received—adds a layer of miscommunication that explains years of hurt without feeling like mere authorial manipulation.
The Writing Style: Accessible with Flashes of Depth
Painter’s prose remains accessible and fast-paced, perfect for her target young adult audience. She employs dual perspectives that alternate between Dani and Alec, giving readers insight into both characters’ internal struggles. The narrative voice captures authentic teenage thought patterns—the self-doubt, the overthinking, the way small interactions become momentous in adolescent minds—without condescending or caricaturing.
Moments of genuine literary craft appear throughout. Alec’s observation that “Dani Collins—that was my type. Period” demonstrates how Painter can express deep emotional truth through simple declarative sentences. Her descriptions of pressure—”it was like my heart was in my throat”—effectively convey anxiety without purple prose. The recurring motif of forgetting versus remembering, particularly around the childhood friendship, gives the story thematic coherence.
However, the dialogue occasionally skews too contemporary, with characters deploying internet slang and phrases that may date the novel quickly. The references to specific songs and social media platforms ground the story in a particular moment but sacrifice some timelessness. These are minor quibbles in what is ultimately a highly readable narrative.
Themes Worth Examining
Beyond the romance, Fake Skating by Lynn Painter grapples with several meaningful themes. The pressure on young athletes to sacrifice their bodies and futures for institutional glory receives substantial attention. Alec’s situation—where an entire town’s championship drought rests on his injured shoulders—illustrates how communities can inadvertently exploit the young people they claim to celebrate. The book asks important questions about the cost of glory, even if it doesn’t always provide satisfying answers.
Family obligation versus personal desire runs throughout both protagonists’ arcs. Dani must choose between her father’s expectations and her mother’s home, between duty and belonging. Alec carries the weight of being his family’s potential financial salvation while pretending the pressure doesn’t exist. These are genuine dilemmas without easy solutions, and Painter deserves credit for not pretending otherwise.
The nature of hometown identity—whether we can return to places we’ve left and who we become when we do—provides thematic richness. Dani’s transformation from anxious outsider to confident community member tracks a journey many readers will recognize. The question of whether we can reclaim childhood connections or whether time makes such reclamation impossible adds emotional stakes to the romance beyond simple attraction.
Final Assessment: A Solid Addition to the Sports Romance Genre
Fake Skating succeeds more often than it stumbles, delivering exactly what Lynn Painter fans expect: charming characters, witty banter, and a romance that feels both inevitable and hard-won. The Minnesota hockey setting provides specificity that elevates the familiar fake dating premise, while the dual pressure facing both protagonists adds genuine stakes to their relationship.
It’s not a perfect novel—the third act rushes crucial emotional beats, the treatment of sports injury culture troubles, and some supporting characters need more development. Yet these flaws don’t overshadow what works: the authentic portrayal of first love rekindled, the sweet library romance subplot, the way Painter captures both the magic and madness of small-town sports obsession.
Readers who loved Better Than the Movies will find similar DNA here—the nostalgic first love, the witty heroine finding her confidence, the seemingly unattainable boy who’s been waiting all along. Those seeking something grittier or more innovative may find the formula predictable. But sometimes predictable isn’t a flaw when the execution brings such warmth and heart to familiar elements.
Who Should Read This Book
Fake Skating by Lynn Painter will particularly appeal to readers who enjoy:
- Contemporary YA romance with emotional depth beyond pure fluff
- Sports romance that balances game action with character development
- Fake dating tropes executed with self-awareness and charm
- Small-town settings with strong community atmosphere
- Dual perspective narratives with equally compelling protagonists
- Stories about second chances and childhood connections rekindled
Similar Reading Recommendations
If Fake Skating by Lynn Painter resonates with you, consider these comparable titles:
From Lynn Painter’s Own Catalog:
- Better Than the Movies – For the nostalgic romance and witty banter
- Nothing Like the Movies – The sequel that continues exploring young love
- The Do-Over – Another Painter novel featuring second-chance romance
Other Hockey Romances:
- Icebreaker by Hannah Grace – College hockey romance with LGBTQ+ representation
- The Gravity of Us by Phil Stamper – Not hockey-focused but captures similar pressure on young people
Fake Dating Done Well:
- The Dating Plan by Sara Desai – Adult contemporary with similar trope
- For The Record by Emma Lord – YA romance with business competition and secret identities
Small-Town Sports Culture:
- Friday Night Lights by H.G. Bissinger – Nonfiction that examines football culture similar to the hockey obsession here
- Catching Jordan by Miranda Kenneally – Female athlete navigating sports and romance
Lynn Painter continues to demonstrate why she’s become a reliable name in contemporary YA romance. Fake Skating by Lynn Painter may not revolutionize the genre, but it delivers a satisfying, emotionally resonant story about finding yourself while falling in love. In a world that often feels overwhelming, sometimes that’s exactly what readers need—a warm, funny, occasionally heartbreaking reminder that home and happiness can be found in the most unexpected places, even on frozen Minnesota ice.