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

by Meghan Quinn

“Hell, tonight is going to be rough without you though. Are you staying to watch?” “No, going to watch from my apartment. I actually asked Blakely to watch with me.” He slowly turns his head and faces me. Whispering, he asks, “Did you tell Posey this?” “No, why?” “He’s going to be so fucking obnoxious that I don’t think I can bear him knowing.” “What do you mean?” I ask. “He’s seemed really chill in the Frozen Fellas group, but he’s been bragging up a storm in a separate text about how he’s the best matchmaker to ever walk the goddamn planet. Of course, Pacey let him have it last night and said he shouldn’t be celebrating while our center is laid up with a bad ankle. We haven’t heard from him since but if he knows you have a date planned⁠—” “It’s not a date.” “Oh, he’ll call it that. Like Jesus, he’s been insufferable. It’s almost as if he’s trying to avoid something in his life so he’s incessantly involving himself in ours.” “That’s probably the case,”