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

by Meghan Quinn

Then how come I want to go back out there and have him hold my hand again? Or better yet, have his hands on me—because hell did that feel incredible.

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

“That I didn’t know about your crush, that you had to watch me with someone else. That you had to wait so long.” “You don’t need to apologize. You were worth the wait, Blakely.”

“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.”

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

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. And I like to believe Holden had a big part in making that happen.