In the Likely Event by Rebecca Yarros

Wondered Pages book review graphic for “In the Likely Event” by Rebecca Yarros, showing the cover with an airplane wing at sunset and callouts for tropes: plane crash, fated lovers, military, second chance, slow burn, plus a 5 of 5 rating and Book Club badge.

I picked up In the Likely Event for the Book Hangout book club. I wanted a big-feelings, high-stakes romance that would leave me rooting for two people who cannot seem to let go of each other. I was in a reflective mood and wanted a book that balanced adrenaline with heart. From page one, I got exactly that. The opening is cinematic and sets the tone for a story that lives in the tense space between duty and desire. I expected a tear-jerker with complicated choices, and I got one. The chemistry between Nate and Izzy landed immediately, and the plane scene hooked me. By the time I reached the Afghanistan timeline, I was fully invested.

After surviving a devastating plane crash together, Izzy Astor and Nate Phelan form a bond that keeps pulling them back to each other as their lives diverge. Years later, Izzy is working in politics and Nate is serving in the military. Their paths cross again during the chaotic Afghanistan withdrawal, and they must face both danger and the truth about what they mean to each other.

Rebecca Yarros has a direct, emotionally transparent prose style that makes big moments feel intimate and small moments feel meaningful. The pacing moves between breathless action and thoughtful quiet, which worked well for my ADHD brain. The flashbacks and present-day timeline shifts create a rhythm that mirrors the push and pull of Nate and Izzy’s relationship. I could see their world clearly. The settings felt grounded, from frozen riverbanks to dust-choked airfields.

I also appreciate the clarity in the way Yarros writes tension. The yearning is not just told; it is felt in the pauses, the glances, and the unsent messages. The intimacy scenes are hot without feeling gratuitous. There are only two explicit scenes, but when they hit, they hit. This is a story that treats intimacy as a conversation between equals, not a checklist.

A note on craft: the chapters often end on emotional or situational cliffhangers that propel you forward. For me, that structure worked. If jumping across time or context tends to throw you, you might need a beat between chapters, but I found the switches energizing rather than disorienting.

  • Fate versus choice. The story keeps asking whether some people are meant for us or whether we choose them over and over again. Nate and Izzy test the idea that destiny shows up as endurance, not convenience.
  • Love alongside service. This is not a romance that exists in a vacuum. Duty to country, to community, and to personal mission complicates everything, as it does in real life. The tension here is not one person stopping the other from greatness, but two people trying to be great in different places at the same time.
  • Survival and meaning. From the crash to Kabul, survival is not just staying alive; it is deciding what kind of person you will be on the other side. Nate’s grief and Izzy’s moral compass evolve as they face impossible trade-offs.
  • Hope in chaos. The Afghanistan evacuation sequences portray urgency, scarcity, and heartbreak. The book does not pretend that bureaucracy or policy disappears when people are desperate. Instead, it shows how small acts of courage can still matter.

Two quotes from the publisher’s description captures the arc well, “Their connection is undeniable.” and later, “He’ll do anything to keep her safe. And everything to win her heart.” These promises drive the core of the narrative, and the novel follows through.

Nate Phelan is the rare romance hero who balances competence with vulnerability. He is decisive in the field and honest about his trauma at home. His decision to start therapy after hallucinations of a friend lost during Delta training made me like him even more. Men who take their mental health seriously are hot.

Izzy Astor is sharp, stubborn, and deeply principled. She believes public policy should help real people, and she is willing to get her hands dirty to make progress. I appreciated that her ambition was never treated as the obstacle to love. She and Nate do not want each other to shrink. They want each other to choose. That difference matters.

Together, Nate and Izzy are electric. Their fights crackle with frustration and longing. Their reunions feel like coming up for air. I absolutely adored them. I wanted their forever so much my chest hurt. The two explicit sex scenes are scorching and release pressure at exactly the right moments, which also makes their separations ache.

Side characters do their jobs. Friends, colleagues, and family who complicate choices and reflect back who Nate and Izzy are becoming. I did have one lingering question about Tybee, Izzy’s Maine Coon in NYC. What happened to that cat by the end, especially when retirement to Maine comes up? My cat-lover brain needs closure.

The vibes are high-stakes tenderness, slow-burn longing, found-again love, danger-kissed intimacy, and competence porn.

The setting starts at the Missouri River crash site, New York’s political orbit, and the heat and dust of Afghanistan during the withdrawal.

Tropes include fated seatmates, second-chance over time, military protector, forced proximity under fire, annual almosts, and right person wrong time.

This story gave me shades of Dear John in its emotional architecture, but it is very much its own thing. The evacuation sequences feel immediate and grounded. The romance glows in the dark.

“There hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought of you, missed you, wanted you, loved you.”

“He was a reader? This guy just kept getting hotter.”

“It was impossible to give away a heart I’d never gotten back in the first place.”

  • The plane crash hook. Ninety seconds after takeoff, everything changes. The stakes are real and the bond forged there never feels contrived.
  • The chemistry. Nate and Izzy’s attraction is visceral, but it is their respect for each other that made me root for them.
  • Competent people doing meaningful work. Izzy’s politics and Nate’s service matter to them beyond the romance, which made the love story feel bigger.
  • Therapy on the page. Nate initiating therapy after years of hallucinations gave the character depth and modeled healthy choice-making.
  • The evacuation scenes. The urgency, the crowd control, the bottlenecks, the heartbreaking choices. These chapters caught in my throat.
  • The fight scenes between Nate and Izzy. Passionate, messy, full of desire and principle. They argue like two people who actually want to understand each other.
  • The writing. Clean, vivid, and emotionally precise. I could see the dust motes and feel the grit under my nails.
  • The spice. Limited in number, but absolutely worth the wait. When it’s on, it’s on.
  • The arcs. Both Nate and Izzy end up aligned with their deepest callings. Nonprofit law and teaching felt like true norths, not compromises.
  • The yearning. Annual near-misses are my kryptonite. The tension and payoff cycles worked for me.
  • Military and policy lingo without a guide. Terms like C-130, Hercules, cadre, and references to specific Afghanistan cities may lose readers who do not have that background. I found myself texting someone who served to translate. A simple glossary or a map with a timeline of the city-by-city collapse would have helped hugely. This is a usability critique more than a story critique.
  • Length and repetition. At 338 pages, a bit of mid-book fluff could have been trimmed without losing emotional impact. Some beats replay with slight variations.
  • Timeline whiplash. I personally liked the flashback-present weave, but it can feel jarring if you prefer linear narratives.
  • A couple of discourse complaints I saw elsewhere did not land for me, but I want to address them. Some readers argued that intimacy during crisis felt inappropriate. My take is that war compresses time and heightens emotion. The scenes read as human, not celebratory. Others said the book romanticizes the Afghanistan withdrawal. I did not read it that way. The chaos and desperation are on the page, along with the limits of what individuals can accomplish inside a failing system.
  • Tybee the cat. Justice for Tybee. I am still wondering where that fluffy king ended up.

I closed this book with a full heart and a lump in my throat. In the Likely Event is a military-adjacent, politically aware second-chance romance that respects its characters’ missions as much as their love story. I would recommend it to readers who enjoy slow-burn intensity, competence in crisis, and relationships that stretch across time and distance.

If you loved the aching devotion in Dear John or crave romances where both people are allowed to be ambitious, this will hit. My rating: 5 stars. Spice rating: 2 out of 5 for two explicit but memorable scenes. I will absolutely read more Rebecca Yarros romances after this. And yes, I am still looking for my own Nate.

If you survived a life-altering moment with a stranger and felt that electric click, would you chase it years later or let it live as a perfect memory? Also, where do you land on intimacy during high-stress situations in fiction? Does it feel honest or distracting? Tell me everything.

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