Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)

by Meghan Quinn

I learned from a young age that life is short, and you have to fucking enjoy every second of it. So my rule is to say yes. Say yes to as much shit as you can.

I was entranced. I was hooked. I was stolen for the rest of the night. My mind wanted one thing. Her. She had my attention, and no one would steal me away. No one would stop me. Because in all honesty, I’ve had my eye on her for a while, ever since I met her two years before.

This is the story of how I wear the title “Ultimate Fuckup,” because not only did I accidentally get the girl in the hot pink dress pregnant . . . But I broke bro code. Because the girl in the hot pink dress is the sister of my teammate . . . and best friend.

Never hurts a man’s ego to hear the woman he’s been lusting after for two years thinks he’s attractive. Nope, I’m going to keep that little nugget of info very close to my dick.

“Uhh . . . because you’re a fucking goddess and being recognized by you feels really fucking amazing,” I say before I can stop myself.

oh my GOD, Eli Hornsby is causing me to turn all different shades of red.

“Flirting,” he says. “Spending some time together. Some innocent time together.” “This is innocent?” I ask. “Yes, if it wasn’t innocent, trust me, you would know.”

“I don’t want to be the person who walks out, like my dad. I don’t want to be the unreliable person who doesn’t understand the importance of bringing another human life into this world. I grew up without a father, and I’ll be damned if this baby lives that same life.” He shakes his head. “That cycle ends here.” He reaches out to touch my hand. “You will not be walking this journey alone, Penny.”

Are his pecs real? Has she touched them? Has he offered to let her touch them? Can I fucking touch them? Jesus Christ, one mention of big pecs, and I’m losing my goddamn mind.

“How do I look?” Really. Fucking. Good. Lickable. Suckable. Fuckable.

I’m being weird? Me? Uh, last I knew, she was crying and upset, and now, she’s acting as if nothing had happened. Where did she even go? A place that erases memory? Is Men in Black real?

“You said you didn’t want me.” I pin her with my stare. “I never fucking said that. I’d never lie about wanting you. Because I want you, Penny. I wanted you the day I first met you, and I wanted you the night of my birthday. I’ve craved you ever since. Don’t put those words in my mouth.” “Then prove it,”

He smirks down at me. The devil himself could be tainted by that look.

She’s fucking satisfied, you slicked-back, shirt-too-small prick.

“Why the hell not?” Posey asks, offended. “We know things about babies.” “Oh yeah? What do you know?” “Uh . . . that they shit,” Taters says. “They take naps,” Holmes offers. “They suck on boobs,” Posey adds. “Basically, they’re mini versions of us.” “Well put.” Taters gives him a nod. “That’s awkwardly accurate,” Holmes says.

“Okay, well, I can try one if you want.” She nods her head. “Please, and tell me the truth.” I won’t tell her the truth if my life depends on it. No way in fuck am I about to make her feel bad about forgetting the sugar. Even if they are the worst thing I’ve ever tasted, I’ll be eating every single one. For months.