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

by Meghan Quinn

Levi Posey, one of my best friends and teammates. The self-appointed bruiser on the team acts like a devil in skates, but off the ice, he’s a cinnamon roll—all ooey and gooey on the inside. He has made it quite clear his first love is bologna, and his second love is hockey.

“Can’t a man ask another man about his shiny loafers without being questioned?”

Jesus Christ. I never should have told these idiots about my crush on Blakely because they haven’t been able to shut up about it. They think in some miraculous fashion, if they talk about it enough, she’ll become single, and I’ll get my chance. Manifestation, they tell me.

“How about some shelves, huh? That might be nice. Look at these stacks and stacks of books. Don’t you think they would want a place to live? What kind of bookworm are you?”

But I don’t stay to hear him say bye because I just flashed Halsey Holmes—and I’m sure his little, innocent heart has been traumatized forever.