Kiss and Don't Tell (The Vancouver Agitators, #1)

by Meghan Quinn

he just made my heart happy. And he has a great smile.”

I feel protected, safe, cared for.

“Curves are hot,” he says.

“She was loving. Adventurous. A storyteller. She loved with her entire heart and always made you feel as though you were more than the person you thought you were. She could identify attributes about a person that they never saw as positives and twist them so they’d appreciate those attributes. Kind of like you.” I tilt my head. “I complain about my thighs, you say they’re sexy. I put myself down in the gym, you lift me up. She was the same way.”

The man you love should always be your champion, Win. Always encouraging. Never settle for less.

From what you’ve said, it sounds as though you’ve been carrying a heavy heart for a long time. Maybe you take this time to just breathe. To take a second for yourself. We all need those breaks. It’s why we come up here, to just step away and recharge.” She nods. “I like that. Recharge.” “Recharge in the place where your mom was born. Reconnect. And who knows?” I smirk. “Maybe you hang out with a hot hockey player while you do it.” “I do enjoy Eli’s company.” She can’t hold back her smile as her eyes meet mine.

for the first time in a week, I don’t feel the same pressing pain at being knocked out of the playoffs. I feel a purpose. Because maybe Winnie Berlin needs someone to help her not only recharge, but move toward her final destination. And maybe that destination will include me.

This is what giddy feels like, this consumption of happiness pulsing through your veins. I’ve met—I’ve kissed—the perfect man. And. He. Kissed. Me. Back.

“It was good, wasn’t it? Felt special.” I smile down at her. “Really fucking special.” Giggling, she presses her hands over her face and scissors her legs under the covers while quietly screaming. God, she’s cute.

“Really?” she asks, surprised. “Yeah, really. I like you, Winnie. Whatever you want, you get.” “Ooh, don’t say things like that because I will take advantage.” “You would never,” I say. “You barely take advantage of being here in this house.”