The Shots You Take Summary, Characters and Themes

The Shots You Take by Rachel Reid is a mature, emotional exploration of lost love, personal transformation, and healing over time.  Set against the quiet, rugged backdrop of a small town in Nova Scotia, this novel follows the unexpected reunion of Riley Tuck and Adam Sheppard—two former NHL teammates and secret lovers who haven’t spoken in over a decade.

With themes of queerness, forgiveness, grief, and redemption, the novel examines what it means to live honestly after years of denial.  Reid’s writing is restrained yet emotionally potent, offering a slow-burning, character-driven narrative about second chances and rebuilding broken connections.

Summary

The novel opens with Riley Tuck attending the funeral of his beloved father, Harvey Tuck, a central figure in their tight-knit Nova Scotia community.  Riley is emotionally gutted by the loss but attempting to remain composed until the arrival of Adam Sheppard, his estranged former best friend and once-secret lover, shatters that fragile calm.

Adam hasn’t spoken to Riley in twelve years, and his sudden appearance at the funeral brings with it a flood of old memories, pain, and unresolved feelings.  Riley is furious, confused, and still emotionally raw from both his father’s death and the reemergence of someone who once broke his heart.

As Riley tries to navigate his grief, the story slips into a series of flashbacks, revealing the emotional complexity of Riley and Adam’s past.  The two men were teammates in the NHL in the early 2000s, and beneath the public camaraderie was a passionate, clandestine relationship.

Riley, open about his sexuality, fell in love with Adam, who remained closeted and deeply conflicted.  Adam repeatedly insisted that their sexual encounters were meaningless, even as his actions often contradicted his words.

The pivotal moment that ended their connection came when Riley finally admitted he was in love, and Adam laughed.  That rejection devastated Riley.

Not long after, Adam married a woman and built a seemingly traditional family life.  Riley, in contrast, fell into a deep depression, struggled with addiction, and ultimately left professional hockey to return home and rebuild his life.

Back in the present, Adam is newly divorced and has come out as gay.  His marriage ended after he could no longer live a lie.

He’s spent years regretting how he treated Riley and carries a desire to make amends.  But his return isn’t welcomed—Riley is angry and brittle, determined to protect himself from the heartbreak he once experienced.

Adam lingers in town, talking to Riley’s sister Lindsay and ex-wife Maggie as he tries to figure out how to fix something that may be beyond repair.

Despite Riley’s initial hostility, he eventually finds himself unable to resist the emotional pull between them.  Adam shows up at his shop with food and offers to help, but Riley lashes out.

The anger stems not from hatred, but from the depth of feeling Riley still harbors.  In one charged night, Riley confronts Adam at his motel.

Their conversation is raw and full of pain, but it’s also the first time they speak honestly about what happened.  Adam listens, and for once, doesn’t try to minimize Riley’s pain.

Though nothing is resolved, it’s clear that their connection is still alive—tenuous, wounded, but not extinguished.

In the following chapters, they begin a tentative reconnection.  Adam brings coffee, helps around the shop, and quietly reenters Riley’s life.

Riley’s emotional walls remain high, but the shared grief, memories, and unspoken affection start to crack them.  A kiss between them leads to an emotional collapse for Riley, overwhelmed by the weight of the past.

Adam comforts him, and their renewed intimacy is characterized not by lust but by quiet care and emotional transparency.

Flashbacks to their NHL days further reveal the depth of their bond, and how badly closeted fear and external pressure damaged something that might have been sustaining.  In the present, their relationship builds in quiet moments—walking through the farmer’s market, having dinner together, gardening, and showing up for each other in ways that are small but meaningful.

Adam begins meeting Riley’s friends, folding into his life.  Riley is wary but begins to accept that Adam might really be different this time.

Their growing closeness leads to emotional vulnerability.  Adam confesses that he had been in love with Riley all those years ago but was too afraid to face it.

Riley is cautious, unsure of Adam’s sincerity or staying power.  Despite the uncertainty, they fall into a rhythm.

Adam sleeps over platonically, helps around the house, and even meets Riley’s mother.  These moments suggest something stable forming, but both men know they’re not fully healed yet.

Their relationship deepens when Adam expresses a desire to be seen publicly with Riley, to live openly as a gay man for the first time.  This gesture—of choosing Riley in the light, not just in private—signals a significant shift.

They sleep together again, with tenderness and emotional honesty replacing the secrecy of the past.  Adam thanks Riley for the experience, and Riley, afraid of being abandoned again, tries not to get too attached.

Soon after, Adam must return to Toronto.  Riley braces for the worst but is surprised to find himself emotionally grounded.

They stay in frequent contact, texting and calling.  When Riley sees Adam honored on television, it reminds him of the divide between their worlds.

But a simple text from Adam bridges that distance.  The bond holds.

Riley visits Adam in Toronto to support him through shoulder surgery.  In Adam’s apartment, they live together for a time, enjoying a domestic intimacy neither ever thought possible.

Their bond deepens in quiet gestures—cooking, teasing, resting together.  Riley gifts Adam a silk robe, a symbol of his comfort with himself and their shared queerness.

During this visit, they finally say “I love you” without fear or reservation.

Adam’s kids begin warming to him again, and he starts to plan a memoir and public coming out.  He asks Riley to stay with him through the process.

Riley agrees, promising not just presence but partnership.  Their relationship becomes a sanctuary of emotional support and acceptance.

In the epilogue, five years have passed.  Riley now runs his father’s old sporting goods store and coaches young hockey players.

He’s married to Adam, who is an advocate for inclusivity in sports and a loving father figure.  Their life together is quiet and filled with joy.

On their anniversary, they revisit a beach where they once shared a transformative night.  They make love, reminisce, and affirm the enduring magic of their reunion.

Adam tells Riley he’s been living in the glow of that one summer ever since coming back.  Riley finally believes it.

The Shots You Take ends with a scene of warmth, laughter, and love by the ocean—a fitting close to a story about redemption, growth, and the kind of love that, once nearly destroyed, is finally nurtured into something lasting and true.

Characters

Riley Tuck

Riley Tuck is the emotional backbone of The Shots You Take, a character whose life has been profoundly shaped by both love and loss.  At the start of the novel, he is reeling from the death of his father, Harvey Tuck, a man who was not only a beacon of unconditional love but also one of the few people who fully accepted Riley for who he was.

This grief is compounded by the sudden reappearance of Adam Sheppard, Riley’s former best friend and first love, whose betrayal twelve years earlier had left an indelible scar on his psyche.  Riley is a deeply sensitive and wounded man, someone who has clawed his way back from depression, addiction, and the loss of his professional identity after leaving the NHL.

He finds comfort in quiet domesticity—his sporting goods shop, his garden, his dog Lucky, and his chosen family of friends—yet beneath that peaceful surface simmers a reservoir of unresolved pain.  Riley’s journey in the novel is one of cautious rediscovery: he must learn how to forgive, to believe in second chances, and to accept that healing doesn’t mean forgetting.

His internal conflict—wanting to reconnect with Adam but fearing more heartbreak—gives the novel its emotional intensity.  Riley is a character who carries his wounds openly, and it is his vulnerability, strength, and eventual willingness to love again that makes his arc so profoundly moving.

Adam Sheppard

Adam Sheppard is a man defined by the tension between past mistakes and present transformation.  In his youth, Adam was Riley’s secret lover and teammate, but his fear of being outed and his internalized homophobia led him to reject Riley’s love and eventually marry a woman.

His inability to embrace his truth caused immense damage—not just to Riley, but to himself.  When Adam returns to Nova Scotia after Harvey Tuck’s funeral, he is a changed man: divorced, out of the closet, and seeking redemption.

Yet his transformation doesn’t erase the hurt he inflicted, and he is painfully aware of how much he must earn back Riley’s trust.  Adam’s journey in The Shots You Take is a quietly courageous one.

He takes responsibility for his past without making excuses, offers steady emotional presence, and slowly dismantles the walls Riley has built around his heart.  What makes Adam compelling is not just his regret, but his active commitment to being better.

His gestures—bringing food, helping around the shop, joining Riley in everyday rituals—speak volumes about the man he has become.  Adam’s love is no longer afraid or hidden; it’s mature, open, and deeply intentional.

By the end of the novel, Adam emerges as a man who has finally made peace with who he is and is ready to build a life founded on truth, visibility, and devotion.

Harvey Tuck

Although Harvey Tuck dies before the events of The Shots You Take begin, his presence looms large over the narrative.  As Riley’s father, Harvey represents love without conditions.

He was one of the few constants in Riley’s life, especially during periods of despair and self-destruction.  Harvey’s unwavering support when Riley came out—especially in the hyper-masculine world of hockey—marked him as a man ahead of his time.

His kindness, generosity, and moral clarity made him not only a beloved father but a cornerstone of the Avery River community.  His death acts as a catalyst for the novel’s events, prompting Adam’s return and forcing Riley to confront both his grief and the emotional wreckage left behind by Adam’s betrayal.

Harvey’s memory provides a moral compass for Riley and serves as a standard against which Adam must measure his intentions.  In many ways, Harvey symbolizes the kind of acceptance and compassion both men must strive to embody in order to find peace with each other.

Maggie Sheppard

Maggie Sheppard, Adam’s ex-wife, offers a nuanced view of Adam’s journey from denial to authenticity.  She is not depicted with bitterness or spite but as a woman who, while understandably hurt, has come to terms with Adam’s truth.

Her interactions with Adam reveal a relationship marked by complexity: a marriage built on a foundation of love and friendship but ultimately eroded by secrecy and identity conflict.  Maggie plays a crucial role in showing that Adam’s coming out was not just a personal reckoning but a transformative event with ripple effects on those around him.

She offers empathy and understanding, even when faced with the emotional aftermath of Adam’s actions.  Through her, the narrative illustrates the human cost of living a lie and the healing that can come with honesty and acceptance.

Maggie’s presence grounds Adam’s storyline in emotional realism, reinforcing that growth often involves confronting the harm done to others.

Lindsay Tuck

Lindsay Tuck, Riley’s sister, serves as a protective yet pragmatic voice in Riley’s life.  She has likely watched him unravel and rebuild more than once, and her reactions to Adam’s return are marked by caution and fierce loyalty.

Lindsay understands the depth of her brother’s wounds and does not trust easily.  However, her willingness to engage with Adam, to listen and even gently push for clarity and peace, signals her emotional intelligence.

Lindsay acts as a mediator between past and present, a person who understands that the path to healing requires discomfort and honesty.  Her presence also highlights the importance of familial love and how it can anchor someone through grief, heartbreak, and uncertainty.

Lindsay’s support is steadfast, and her ability to discern when to step in and when to give space shows her as someone attuned to the emotional currents of those around her.

Darren

Darren, one of Riley’s closest friends and a former hookup, provides both comic relief and grounded support in The Shots You Take.  He represents the queer joy and resilience Riley has managed to find after the collapse of his NHL career and the heartbreak left by Adam.

Darren is emotionally astute, unafraid to call Riley out when necessary, yet always ready with a joke or a moment of levity when things get too heavy.  He’s the kind of friend who knows when to push and when to simply be present.

Darren’s friendship also underscores Riley’s journey toward self-worth—he surrounds himself with people who respect and understand him, which contrasts sharply with the secrecy and shame of his past with Adam.  Darren’s dinner party, which Adam attends, becomes a turning point in Adam and Riley’s slow rekindling, illustrating how friendship can become a bridge to something deeper and more meaningful.

Lucky

While not human, Lucky—Riley’s dog—deserves special mention for the role he plays in the emotional tapestry of the story.  Lucky embodies comfort, routine, and unconditional love, serving as a source of emotional grounding for Riley throughout his grief and his tentative reconciliation with Adam.

In scenes of emotional chaos, Lucky’s presence often calms Riley, reminding him of the peace and security he has built.  The dog also serves as a nonjudgmental witness to Riley’s transformation—a symbol of loyalty and simplicity in a life otherwise defined by emotional complexity.

Through Lucky, the novel quietly suggests that healing often starts in the smallest, most tender relationships.

Themes

Grief and the Complexities of Mourning

The emotional center of The Shots You Take is deeply anchored in the experience of grief, not only as a reaction to loss but as a force that reconfigures identity, memory, and relationships.  Riley Tuck’s mourning over the death of his father, Harvey, is intense and disorienting, yet it’s compounded by more than just the absence of a beloved parent.

Harvey’s passing serves as a catalyst that unlocks dormant feelings—about his own life trajectory, his buried past with Adam Sheppard, and the fragility of the emotional scaffolding he’s built over years of avoidance.  Riley’s grief is portrayed not simply as sorrow, but as a multi-dimensional struggle—one that destabilizes his daily routines, heightens his emotional reactivity, and pulls him into states of both introspection and despair.

What’s compelling is how the narrative shows mourning as a public and private ritual.  Riley must perform composure in front of his community while privately battling the resurgence of unresolved trauma.

The funeral becomes not just a space to honor his father, but a charged emotional arena where Riley’s tightly sealed vulnerabilities begin to rupture.  Grief also takes physical form in the way Riley neglects his health, loses sleep, and uses work as both an escape and an anchor.

Importantly, Harvey’s legacy—his unconditional support and warmth—becomes a mirror against which Riley measures his own capacity for forgiveness, emotional honesty, and love.  The novel treats grief not as an endpoint but as a chaotic, generative force that leads to deeper self-understanding and, eventually, emotional reengagement with the world.

The Long-Term Impact of Closeted Love

At the heart of Riley and Adam’s shared history lies a secretive romance that never had the freedom to mature, and its repressive circumstances left behind profound psychological scars.  Their relationship, forged during their NHL days, was shaped entirely by silence, denial, and the need to perform heteronormativity in a hypermasculine environment.

Adam’s refusal to publicly acknowledge their intimacy wasn’t just a personal failing—it was a survival mechanism in a world that demanded conformity.  Yet that choice carried devastating consequences.

Riley, who had the courage to name his love, was left not only rejected but humiliated, and the betrayal haunted him long after the affair ended.  The damage of that rejection goes beyond heartbreak; it shaped his self-worth, contributed to his depression and substance abuse, and pushed him out of the sport he loved.

For Adam, the years he spent closeted—married to a woman, raising children, denying his own identity—were marked by emotional detachment and personal confusion.  When he finally comes out, it’s not a triumphal act, but a belated attempt to reclaim the parts of himself he lost.

The novel doesn’t treat their past as something to be romantically idealized; instead, it emphasizes how secrecy can corrupt even the most intense affection.  The weight of their former dynamic lingers in every present-day interaction, coloring their efforts to rebuild trust and intimacy.

By showing how the cost of silence ripples outward through years of their lives, the narrative underscores the immense toll closeted love can exact—on both the person hiding and the one they hurt.

Redemption and the Possibility of Emotional Repair

Despite its painful past, The Shots You Take is ultimately invested in the potential for redemption—not as a dramatic transformation, but as a patient, often clumsy journey toward emotional accountability and relational healing.  Adam’s return to Nova Scotia is not framed as a heroic gesture; it is marked by uncertainty, fear, and the recognition that forgiveness is neither owed nor guaranteed.

What redeems Adam isn’t grand declarations, but his quiet persistence—his willingness to listen without defensiveness, to own his past choices without excuse, and to stay even when he is pushed away.  Riley, too, has to engage in an emotional recalibration.

Though he initially responds with bitterness and sarcasm, his ultimate decision to let Adam back into his home signals a fragile but genuine openness to repair.  The process of reconciliation is slow and uneven.

It involves reliving past pain, revisiting moments of emotional collapse, and navigating the awkwardness of learning how to care for each other again.  The story rejects the idea of neat emotional closure.

Instead, it presents redemption as contingent on effort, honesty, and emotional labor.  The dinner Adam cooks, the flowers he brings, the beds they share in silence—these acts are more than gestures; they are emotional offerings in a relationship that once existed only in the shadows.

What makes the repair believable is its grounding in vulnerability.  Neither man is the same person they once were, but both recognize that the bond they shared—and the pain they caused—is worth confronting.

The novel makes clear that redemption, while never simple, is possible when it is rooted in accountability and sustained care.

Queer Love and Visibility

One of the most significant arcs in the novel is the transition from secrecy to visibility—especially in how Adam and Riley begin to inhabit their love in the open.  For most of their past, queerness was something they practiced in the margins: behind closed doors, in whispered confessions, and through acts that were never acknowledged aloud.

Riley came out earlier and paid a price for it—leaving the NHL, facing internalized shame, and living with the ache of never having been chosen publicly by the man he loved.  Adam, on the other hand, spent decades performing heterosexuality, marrying, parenting, and only later embracing his identity.

When they begin to build something new, the difference is not only in how they feel but in how they live.  Their trip to the farmer’s market, Adam’s willingness to hold Riley’s hand in public, and the eventual discussions about labels and pride—all mark a profound shift in their relationship.

Visibility becomes not just a political act, but a deeply personal one.  It’s about being seen, yes—but more importantly, about choosing each other in ways that feel real and unambiguous.

The story never simplifies the challenges of this transition.  There are moments of awkwardness, doubt, and fear of rejection—not just from others, but from each other.

But as they move toward a life shared openly—meeting friends, becoming family, and embracing community—their love becomes a site of joy rather than shame.  The narrative honors queer love not just as a private emotion, but as something that deserves space, celebration, and stability in the world.

Healing Through Domesticity and Shared Space

The slow-building intimacy between Adam and Riley is anchored in their mutual acts of care, most of which take place in domestic and everyday spaces rather than dramatic emotional revelations.  After years of separation, what begins to restore their connection isn’t passion or nostalgia, but the rhythm of shared life: meals cooked, beds shared, gardens tended, and quiet mornings spent together.

Riley’s house becomes a central symbol in this process—a space he painstakingly renovated, both as a retreat from the chaos of his past and as a manifestation of the peace he longed for.  When Adam enters that space, he doesn’t disrupt it; instead, he learns how to fit into it.

Their reconnection is shown not through fireworks, but through moments of ordinariness imbued with affection.  Adam brings bread and coffee, joins Riley on errands, and learns to respect the silences as much as the conversations.

The significance of domestic rituals—like gardening, gift-giving, and meal preparation—is emphasized as a way of building trust and demonstrating emotional commitment.  These shared acts reframe their love story from one built on secrecy and urgency to one rooted in stability, choice, and daily care.

The mundane becomes sacred, a testament to their growth and readiness to love each other not in fleeting, stolen moments but in enduring, repeatable acts of presence.  The novel presents domesticity not as a retreat from passion, but as its fullest expression—a space where healing happens not through dramatic gestures but through constancy, patience, and the courage to build something ordinary and beautiful together.