It Ends with Us by Colleen Hoover (z-lib.org).epub

matter what his clothes look like or that he used to smell before he started using my
shower.
I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and then rested my head on his
shoulder.
“You know what?” I said to him.
He slid his fingers through mine and squeezed my hand. “What?”
“You’re my favorite person.”
I felt him laugh a little and it made me smile.
“Out of how many people?” he asked.
“All of them.”
He kissed the top of my head and said, “You’re my favorite person, too, Lily. By a
long shot.”
When the bus came to a stop on my street, he didn’t let go of my hand when we
started to walk off. He was in front of me in the aisle and I was walking behind
him, so he didn’t see it when I turned around and flipped off Katie.
I probably shouldn’t have done it, but the look on her face made it worth it.
When we got to my house, he took the house key out of my hand and unlocked my
front door. It was weird, seeing how comfortable he is at my house now. He walked
in and locked the door behind us. That’s when we noticed the electricity in the house
wasn’t working. I looked out the window and saw a utility truck down the street
working on the power lines, so that meant we couldn’t watch your show. I wasn’t too
upset because it meant we would probably just make out for an hour and a half.
“Does your oven run off gas or electricity?” he asked.
“Gas,” I said, a little confused that he was asking about our oven.
He kicked off his shoes (which were really just a pair of my father’s old shoes) and
he started walking toward the kitchen. “I’m going to make you something,” he said.
“You know how to cook?”
He opened the refrigerator and started moving things around. “Yep. I probably
love to cook as much as you love to grow things.” He took a few things out of the
refrigerator and preheated the oven. I leaned against the counter and watched him.
He wasn’t even looking at a recipe. He was just pouring things into bowls and
mixing them without even using a measuring cup.
I had never seen my father lift a finger in the kitchen. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t
even know how to preheat our oven. I kind of thought most men were like that, but
watching Atlas work his way around my kitchen proved me wrong.
“What are you making?” I asked him. I pushed my hands on the island and
hoisted myself onto it.