Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)

by Meghan Quinn

“If you don’t, then I’m going to go to the owner of the Agitators and tell him about the article.” Her face falls, and her arms drop to her sides. “You wouldn’t.” “You don’t want to test me.”

We probably look like the picture-perfect couple. But at the moment, nothing but annoyance, frustration, and a pinch of hate flows between us.

“Jealous? Over you?” She laughs. “You and I both know I could do better.”

I bite the side of my mouth. “I was impressed you held it together.” “Do you think you’ll be able to hold it together?” he asks as his hand moves south to the waistband of my thong. I suck in a sharp breath as his finger runs along the elastic.

Unsure of what’s going on, I do as he says, and I swallow.

His eyes turn murderous as he says, “I told her to get the fuck away from me. What part of that don’t you understand?”

And that trust he has, it’s very thin, and he’s willing to take it away without blinking an eye. Which just means Sarah must have done the same thing.

“I know what I can offer, what you need, and they don’t match up. That’s why this works, this

arrangement. We both get what we need without complicating anything.”

My brain, my heart, they’re not ready for the truth.

Silas: It got messy the day you kissed me in that bar.

“Ollie, please, for the love of God, don’t get the man thrown in jail. It won’t look good for him.”

“I’ll pray for his safety tonight.”

All intelligent thoughts dissolve, and I’m left with pure animalistic behavior.

My conscience is causing my head to spin and my body to be at war with my mind.

“Well, as much as I would like to be helpful, I really don’t think I’m the one to talk to. I’m not good with secrets, and if you tell me any more than you already have, I know I’ll end up blabbing. So best we keep this at what it is, an unfortunate slip of the tongue.”

Posey shakes his head. “No, I won’t get wrapped up in everyone’s issues. I’m one man. I can’t handle it all.”

“Stealing this nightmare from you so you don’t embarrass yourself even more.”

Hornsby: I gave it an hour, but I can’t fucking take it any longer

Holmes: I can usually handle these text chains, but sorry, I’m out.

“It was my texting, wasn’t it?” He puffs his chest and cracks his fingers. “I’ve still got it.”

My plan was to marry Sarah. To have kids. To buy a house and win some more goddamn championships. But for the past two years, it’s felt as though nothing fits. As though I’ve been drifting.

What’s going to be more fulfilling? Navigating through a new relationship together? Or suffering apart?”

Well, now I feel like an even bigger ass because it would have been better in person.

“That’s different. Sports are different. That’s physical. What Sarah did to you, that’s emotional, and being emotionally vulnerable is harder than shooting a puck past a goalie.” I wet my lips. “But I’m so glad you shared with me, Silas. It means more to me than anything, and I promise, this stays between us.”

“To get hurt, you have to lose the fight. I don’t lose.”

This. This is what I’ve missed. Coming home to someone. Someone eager to see me.

“Just because things are going right, doesn’t mean they’re going to go wrong.”

With Ollie, there’s this obsession. An obsession to make her happy, to make her feel fulfilled. An obsession to be near her, to hold her, to possess her.

“You should know anything said out loud is public information, Miss Owens. Or have you not learned that in your years studying to be a journalist?”

Someone who would derail a person’s future with zero regard for how adversely it will change their life.

“I’m not looking for nice things. I’m looking for the truth.”

“I thrive for moments like this. I’m in.”

“He told me you didn’t do it on purpose, that it was a slip-up. I believe him. I believe you.”