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

by Meghan Quinn

Eli Hornsby—the pretty boy. Pacey Lawes—the elder of the group. And Silas Taters—the asshole.

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.

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.

Jesus, is that all it takes, Holmes? A pair of pretty eyes and you’re a goner?

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.

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.

“Not everyone can magically fall in love like Pacey,” Hornsby complains. “Love isn’t always perfect all at once. You have to earn it.”

“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.

“Sherman, right?” Silas asks, getting in on it. Oh, look who’s dead to me as well. Posey and Silas, both dead to me.

“And you’ve been friends with Sherman ever since. That’s so sweet.” Yup, not looking like a fucking loser at all. Friends with a goddamn tree. Thank you, Posey.

“No, I don’t want to disturb his peace. He probably has it empty for a reason.” “Does he?” Penny stands and moves around the living room. “Or maybe he needs someone to come into his life to brighten things up because he’d never do it himself.”

Who would have thought such a giant man—six foot four, to be exact—would be such a cinnamon roll.

I just . . . fuck, I just want her to like me. I want her to see me as someone she can rely on and see herself with.

Silas: Consider Eli dead. I don’t think he can stomach the pressure. He’s softened since he’s become a dad. Penny: There is nothing soft about him! Posey: Christ, Silas, don’t anger it. Penny: 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.

Because I’m apparently an absolute pervert, the first thing my eyes go to is his crotch where I catch an obvious bulge. It’s not the kind of bulge where he’s turned on, just his everyday package and . . . wow. It’s there . . . a bulge of all bulges.

The man has chivalry tattooed to his heart.

It’s Blakely. It’s always been Blakely. It will always be Blakely.

“You’re going to take all of me, Blakely, even if it takes hours. Your pussy will take every last fucking inch of me.”

She’s it for me. She’s mine. And I’ll spend every waking hour making sure she knows that.

The man who would barely talk to me, who likes to have his nose stuck in a book, had the dirtiest mouth I’ve ever heard. The things he said to me. The things he did to me. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.

“This is where you belong. Don’t fucking forget it.”

Jobs will come and go, but a man like Halsey? He’s once in a lifetime, and if that means I need to go back to ground zero, give up the dream job, and be here for him, then I will do it. I’ll do anything for this man.