Abby Jimenez has a specific brand: she takes a high-concept, almost goofy premise—in this case, a Reddit-fueled dating curse—and uses it as a Trojan horse for a 400-page exploration of generational trauma. If you’re looking for a breezy read where the biggest conflict is a misunderstood text message, keep walking. Just for the Summer is effectively a therapy session disguised as a beach read.
The bait and switch
The setup feels like a Netflix rom-com pitch. Justin is "cursed" because every woman he dates finds her soulmate the minute they break up. Emma, a traveling nurse, has the same problem. They decide to date and break up with each other to "cancel out" the bad luck. It's a classic trope that usually leads to hijinks and a predictable "oh no, we actually like each other" montage.
But Jimenez doesn't stay in the shallow end. About a third of the way in, the book pivots hard into the reality of toxic parenting and childhood neglect. When Justin suddenly has to take guardianship of his three younger siblings, the story stops being about a quirky curse and starts being about the exhaustion of being the only responsible person in a room full of adults.
Millennial humor and heavy lifting
The book leans heavily into a very specific "millennial" voice. The characters communicate via DMs, reference internet culture, and use the kind of self-aware, slightly anxious banter that dominates modern romance subreddits. While some readers find this dialogue a bit "try-hard," it serves a purpose here. These are characters who use humor as a shield to keep people away from their messy backstories.
The chemistry between Emma and Justin is a slow burn, but it’s built on competence. They aren't just falling for each other's looks; they’re falling for the way the other person handles a crisis. For an adult audience, that’s often sexier than a grand gesture at an airport.
The "not for teens" calculus
It is tempting to see the bright cover and the "GMA Book Club" sticker and think this is safe for a mature 15-year-old. It isn't. Beyond the explicit scenes, the emotional weight of the book is geared toward people who have enough life experience to understand enmeshment and the difficulty of setting boundaries with a parent who refuses to grow up.
The depiction of Emma’s mother is genuinely unsettling. It isn't "movie villain" evil; it’s the kind of subtle, draining manipulation that feels painfully real. Jimenez handles it with sensitivity, but it makes the book a much heavier lift than the "summer fling" title suggests. If you’re handing this to someone, make sure they’re looking for a book that will make them think about their therapist as much as their partner.
With a 4.6-star rating on Amazon, the consensus is clear: it’s a powerhouse of a romance, provided you're ready to do the emotional work alongside the characters.
