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

by Meghan Quinn

but then my boyfriend went on a tirade about how perfect you are—he has a huge man crush on you—and he convinced me to marry you.”

“You have to ask her out,” Posey says, approaching us now. “Want me to formulate a plan?” “Yes, a plan. That’s what we need,” Hornsby says. “We could do a flash mob,” Posey suggests.

Some might say the author of his story could have cut out the last fifteen percent, and everyone would have still been pleased with the outcome.”

Blakely then looks at Posey and says, “What happened to you? We were talking with Camper over in marketing, and you just took off in the middle of a sentence.” Jesus Christ, Posey. He nervously smiles and says, “Bathroom emergency.”

“Holmes isn’t happy, and he doesn’t have a lot of sex,” Posey says out of fucking nowhere.

“Are you his landlord?” Blakely teases. “More like his hairy godmother.” Posey makes himself laugh . . . and only himself.

My phone chimes with a text, and when I lift a brow at him, he winces. “Shit, was that to the group chat with you in it?” I pull my phone out of my pocket and read his text. Posey: You guys, we’re at DEFCON 1 over here. Holmes is about to wee himself from nerves. We need help. Taters, please grab a juniper bonsai tree and have it here in twenty minutes. Pacey, we need a vacuum cleaner like ten minutes ago. Get it here. Hornsby, we need two nightstands, preferably a white oak or black iron. You also have twenty minutes. I glance up at him. “I’m not going to wee myself.” “Say that to your quivering legs.”

I’m slightly horrified that I nearly slapped you in the face with my crotch . . . Ugh, that word . . . so . . . yeah.”

keep it simple, nothing like sweet dreams, my little ball of angel glitter.”

Posey: Penny is part of the Frozen Fellas now. Silas: Trust me, don’t fight it. She has raw nipples.

Posey: Listen to her. Silas: Please . . . please, Holmes, just do it. OC: Penny is the best, everything she says is correct and awesome, and she’s so smart. Pacey: LOLOLOLOL Penny: Good boys . . . very good boys.

OC: Clearly, Penny knows all so we should just listen to her. Yay, you rolled your ankle!

OC: I’m still thinking about how you used the word penetrate. I keep thinking about your penis. I think there is something wrong with me. Halsey: You’ve lost a lot of my respect. OC: I accept this.

Because I’m apparently an absolute pervert, the first thing my eyes go to is his crotch

Penny: Umm . . . piercings, let’s talk about that some more. Halsey, what are your thoughts on piercing your penis? Halsey: Not good. Posey: I think this is a drastic move we might have to make.

That’s how bland of a man I consider him.

Bitch

Abort. Abort. This is not going well. I fucking touched her tit! I violated her very being.

OC: Even though I read that as a nice thank you, I think this is a situation where we’re not supposed to say you’re welcome.

She’s . . . she’s fucking kissing me back.

Can I ask why I’m your favorite?” “Because as Daddy says, you leave those sons of bitches in the dust.” “Annabelle,” the father scolds, looking mortified.

How could I not have seen this before? The way he looks at me when I walk into a room. The subtle bounce of his Adam’s apple. The shift in his posture or the soft acknowledgement in his voice.

“Yes,” I say before Penny can say anything. “Clap for us, Eli.” He lifts his hands above the table, hesitant, only for Penny to swat his hands down. “Don’t clap for them, that would make this weird.”