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

I open the door and his immediate reaction confuses me.
“Jesus Christ,” he says, dropping his head against my door frame. He’s
panting like he’s been working out, and that’s when I notice that he
doesn’t look to be any more rested or clean than I am. He’s got a couple
of days’ worth of stubble on his face—something I’ve never seen on him
before—and his hair isn’t styled like it usually is. It’s a little erratic, like the
look in his eye. “Do you have any idea how many doors I’ve knocked on to
find you?”
I shake my head, because I don’t. But now that he mentions it—how in
the hell does he know where I live?
“Twenty-nine,” he says. Then he holds up his hands and repeats the
numbers with his fingers while he whispers, “Two . . . nine.”
I let my gaze drop down to his clothes. He’s in scrubs, and I absolutely
hate that he’s in scrubs right now. Holy hell. So much better than the onesie
and way better than the Burberry.
“Why did you knock on twenty-nine doors?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
“You never told me which apartment was yours,” he says, matter-offactly.
“You said you lived in this building, but I couldn’t remember if you
even said which floor. And for the record, I almost started with the third
floor. I would have been here an hour ago if I went with my gut instinct.”
“Why are you here?”
He runs his hands down his face and then points over my shoulder.
“Can I come in?”
I glance over my shoulder and then open the door farther. “I guess. If
you tell me what you want.”
He walks inside and I close the door behind us. He glances around,
wearing his stupid hot scrubs, and puts his hands on his hips as he faces
me. He looks a little disappointed, but I’m not sure if it’s in me or himself.
“There’s a really big naked truth coming, okay?” he says. “Brace
yourself.”
I fold my arms over my chest and watch as he inhales a breath,
preparing to speak.
“These next couple of months are the most important months in my
entire career. I have to be focused. I’m closing in on the end of my
residency, and then I’ll have to sit for my exams.” He’s pacing my living
room, talking frantically with his hands. “But for the past week, I haven’t
been able to get you out of my head. I don’t know why. At work, at home.