He's Not My Type (The Vancouver Agitators, #4)

by Meghan Quinn

I don’t know who this is or what she’s doing here, but she is easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my tired eyes on.

She turns toward me, her eyes connecting with mine, and fucking hand to heart, I feel this jolt of possession rock through me so fucking hard that I have to catch my breath. I can’t tell you the last time I felt something like this.

But hell, this girl has me all twisted up inside. One look and my palms started sweating, I felt tongue-tied, and my heart raced faster than when I was chasing down a puck against an opponent. With one look, she brought me back to life.

And just like that, I don’t have to be the one to pull my mind from that dark cloud. I don’t have to push it away all on my own. She did it effortlessly with her real, unfiltered response.

Narrator: Unfortunately for Halsey Holmes . . . it wasn’t a one-and-done interaction. In fact, he’s seen her almost every day in the hallway of the arena, which has only enabled his crush to the point that when he runs into her . . . he burns. Poor, poor Halsey.

If only I could tell her that I don’t care about what happened, just that I care about her comfort, spending time with her, and making sure she’s okay.

Even though Perry was a very good boyfriend, I don’t believe he would have given Mr. Gorman the same trouble, nor would he have laid out a set of demands attached to a threat. Not that Halsey is my boyfriend or even romantically involved with me, but the mere fact that this . . . friend—I think that’s what I can call him—is more protective than my boyfriend ever was, surprises me. It’s astonishing how . . . safe I feel. Cared for. Did I not feel that way with Perry?

Then how come I want to go back out there and have him hold my hand again? Or better yet, have his hands on me—because hell did that feel incredible

My eyes stay connected with hers so she knows how serious I am. “Take me to the wedding.” “Wh-why would I do that?” she asks. Yeah, Halsey, why would you do that? Maybe because I’m practically in love with you. Because I can’t get enough of you. Because if I don’t take you to the wedding, you might fall for your ex again, and I don’t think I can handle that. Because I want my goddamn chance at holding you for a night.

I liked the way he protected me. The way he stood up for me. The way he treated me like I was precious. And what does that say about me?

He’s . . . protective. Charming. Attentive. Engaged. Genuine. I don’t feel as though I’m competing with him like I did with Perry. He’s thoughtful. Contained. Generous. Handsome. And sexy. It’s as though he’s got everything I never knew I wanted. Which means he currently checks all my boxes.

He’s put his arm over my shoulder, held my hand, and spoken closely to my ear as if it’s just the two of us in this room. He’s invaded my senses with his touch, his mouthwatering scent, and his whispers. He’s pretended to be madly in love with me. He’s protected me. Paid attention to me. He’s claimed me.

“If you want him back, tell me right now and I’ll step aside. If not . . . then I’m going to make sure I spend the rest of the night showing him exactly who you belong to.”

I slowly raise my eyes to hers and when hers meet mine, indescribable need for this woman hits me so fucking hard that the air is sucked right out of my lungs, leaving me breathless . . . needy . . . erratic. Just from one look, from those eyes, the eyes that captivated me from day fucking one.

No, we didn’t just have sex. We had mind-blowing, life-altering sex. If I wasn’t sure that Blakely was the girl for me before, I sure as fuck can confirm it now. She’s it for me. She’s mine. And I’ll spend every waking hour making sure she knows that.

“You’re not mad?” “How could I be mad?” she asks. “I am speechless. Halsey . . . you have no idea how complimented I feel right now. To think that you’ve had feelings for me for so long . . . that you pursued me so decisively. I don’t think anyone has ever treated me with so much devotion and respect. I’m in awe. If I’m mad about that, then something is wrong with me. I’m just sorry you had to suffer through bad advice.” “Trust me . . . so am I.”

“Dear God, Halsey. I’m not even a big reader and I know that’s sacrilege. You can’t just stick the books up there. There needs to be purpose to it.”

“You are so worth this life, Halsey. You bring so much joy to people. You are such a beacon, a kind, thoughtful, loving soul. Your boys love you more than anything.” She swallows and says, “I love you more than anything.” Her eyes fill with tears as I lift, stunned, but she loops her arm around my neck and pulls me closer. “I love you, Halsey.

can live without the new job, but I can’t fathom walking this life without you by my side.” I stroke her hair, staring at those beautiful eyes that captured me from day one.