Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)

by Meghan Quinn

The only reason a man would say that is because he’s the one who’s actually bad at sex and is placing the blame on someone else so he doesn’t have to face reality.

You’re all adults, and sometimes you can do everything right, and something still goes wrong.

I thought I’d miss my apartment more than I have, but I’m starting to realize that it’s not the place I go home to, but having someone there when you arrive.

It’s all about the chemistry between the couple that determines how good sex is.

“Love is intimacy, Eli. Love is feeling protected, trusted, secure with yourself. Love is feeling like you’re home. Like there is nowhere else you want to be than in your person’s arms. Love is feeling this unbridled connection with another human, a connection so strong that when they’re not around, you feel . . . empty, incomplete. And love grows with intensity as your relationship grows. It starts small, like this tiny kernel needling at your back, bringing awareness to your brain that something is taking over and that an emotion is growing inside you. And as time passes, that kernel blooms into something bigger, something that eclipses your heart and takes up room in your chest, so when you see your person, all you can do is let out a deep breath of relief because they’re there. With you. For you. And if that person is the right person, if they’re truly the match to your soul, then they will make sure that nothing bad ever happens to you. That no matter what life throws at you—death, joy, heartache—they will be there, by your side, holding your hand, and reminding you that despite what you might be going through, there is always a home in their arms.”

Life is funny. You never really know what you’re missing until you get a taste of something good.