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.

Her smile stretches across her face, twinkling under the fluorescent lights of the hallway. Christ, that smile. Like a goddamn warm hug on a cold day.

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.

When our palms connect, and I look her in the eyes, I feel this powerful, electric force bounce between us, jump-starting my heart from its nearly catatonic state. What the actual fuck? My mouth waters. The back of my neck starts to sweat. And a visceral feeling of life pulses through me, reawakening me in a way I never fucking saw coming.

I lift my eyes to hers, and fuck me . . . she’s so beautiful, it’s impossible not to stare. Those eyes, I’ve never seen anything like them before. So light with barely a blip of color but so lively at the same time. There’s an energy in her irises that has tapped into a part of me I thought was nonexistent.

That’s exactly what this feeling is: a crush. But how could I not? She’s funny. Cute. Fucking adorable. Gorgeous. A breath of fresh air. I need to see more of her. It might be scary as shit, but I can’t end the interaction here. I have to ask her out.

That seems to be my luck in this fucking life. The ounce of hope, of finding my way out of this fog, is so quickly squandered the minute I give in to it.

“Love isn’t always perfect all at once. You have to earn it.”

Will I ever stop getting butterflies whenever I see her? Probably not. I’m doomed.

“What the hell do you do with your money?” he asks with a shake of his head. “Invest. Save. I don’t know. Buy books.”

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. I hate that she’s upset. I hate that she’s holding this guilt. That’s the last fucking thing I want. I want to see that shining smile of hers, those brilliant eyes full of joy. I don’t want to be the source of her pain and discomfort.

Because I want my goddamn chance at holding you for a night.

“Watch what you fucking say to her,” Halsey seethes. “Nothing is wrong with her. She’s perfect, and you’re the douche who didn’t realize it. So leave her the fuck alone, or next time, this isn’t going to end with you only walking away with some broken pride.”

I don’t know how to bridge the gap between us. I don’t know how to apologize. I don’t know how to express my feelings to her—that I’ve liked her for so goddamn long

Just from one look, from those eyes, the eyes that captivated me from day fucking one. And they haven’t stopped. They’ve held my attention. They’ve gripped me by the heart and have held me close. They’ve made me realize that there truly isn’t anyone else on this earth that I want in my arms. It’s Blakely. It’s always been Blakely. It will always be Blakely.

I take a deep breath and scan her beautiful face. Those lips wet and ready, those eyes looking hungry and willing. I’m going to take what I want and face the consequences after because if I don’t, I’ll regret it forever.

“I’m taking what I want,” I say into her ear. “I won’t stop until you tell me.” I release her hands and clasp the zipper of her dress. “I won’t fucking stop until you say, understood?” She nods. “No, I want to hear your verbal agreement. Do you understand that I’m taking what I want, Blakely? I’m taking your mouth, your body, and I’m marking it as mine until you tell me to stop.” “Yes, I understand,” she says, sending euphoria through me. She just gave me the green light. Thank. Fuck.

You stunned me. It was your eyes that captivated me first. And then you smiled, and I was fucking gone. I honestly don’t think I heard one thing the entire time you talked to me. I was so caught up in the fact that I was feeling something for someone. I hadn’t felt anything since my brother died.”

“I was pretty dead inside, Blakely. I shut down after Holden passed, and when I met you, I felt this sudden zap of life inside me. Like this fog had momentarily parted and let me see something, someone outside of my dreary life. You rocked me, and I knew I needed to learn about you.

I just kept thinking, how can I ask this girl out? I was fucking nervous, but I felt this deep need inside me not to part without giving it a shot.

“You need to listen to your heart and follow that, not what people might think. If you like him, then you like him. Plain and simple.

“You don’t need to apologize. You were worth the wait, Blakely.”

“Just been living in a fog until you came around.” I tilt my head to the side. “You can’t say those things to me.” “Why not?” he asks. “Because . . .” I look up at him through my lashes. “Makes me fall harder.” “Good,” he says. “Then I’m doing my job.”

“You’re my dream girl, Blakely. Everything I ever fucking wanted. So never second-guess that.”

“Blakely,” I sigh. “What don’t you understand?” I grip her chin and hold her steady so her eyes are forced to look into mine. “When I said I found what I wanted, I mean it. I’m just waiting for you to catch up to the feelings I have for you. If you want to make that second bedroom an office, I’ll fucking help you pick out wallpaper. If you want to set up a dresser in our bedroom and move your clothes in there, tell me how I can help and what dresser you want. You’re it for me. I’m sold. So whatever you want, you can have it.”

How can I be this lucky? How is this actually happening right now? This woman who has had my heart, my mind, my fucking soul since the moment I met her, how did I possibly get her to fall for me? I’ll never know, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure she will always be mine.

Why can’t we find each other again?

I want to help him, hold him, and nurture him through this.” “Which means no matter what he says or does, you need to hold strong. You said it yourself, you love him deeper than anything or anyone you’ve loved before. Don’t let that feeling be taken away from a hurt man who is drowning. You are the lifeline, so be the lifeline.”

“Fuck . . . I love you, too, Blakely.” Her eyes soften. “I’ve loved you from the very fucking moment I laid eyes on you. I knew you were supposed to be mine, I just didn’t know how I’d make it happen.”

“I love you, and I need you. What matters is you and me.”

“Fuck, baby,” I whisper. “You are everything I’ll ever need. This body, your heart. It’s all I fucking need.”

You are worthy of this life, of this air I share with you, of this love we feel. You are worthy of it all.”

“I know it will take time to sift through everything you’re feeling and this won’t just magically disappear. That’s not how hurt works. But I will be here for you every step of the way. I’ll stand by your side, reminding you just how special you are to this world.”

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. “You chose me.” “And I’ll choose you every single time.”

During the darkest time of my life, when I was walking through every day with no purpose and simply going through the motions, a sliver of light awoke the dead inside me. That light was Blakely. And the more I got to know her, the more I realized she was sent to me and meant to be in my life.

if I’ve learned one thing through such devastating loss, it’s that the sun still rises the next day. And the day after that. Life continues its motion. Waiting for your return. It’s okay to stay in that darkness for a while. It’s okay to grieve your loss. Live the pain. Mourn. But then, when you can, it’s time to climb out. When you can, it’s time to look at every element of your life and see that there is still joy in it. Even in the shape of four crazy-ass hockey players. It’s time to lean on those who’ve walked alongside you.