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How does a guy who is obviously humble, well-mannered, and uses words like disparaging end up homeless? How does any teenager end up homeless? I need to find out, Ellen. You just wait and see. I grab the throw pillow next to me and shove my face into it, muffling a scream. We can discuss it tomorrow.

My father was diagnosed with cancer three years ago while I was still in college. It completely changed the dynamic of their relationship and I no longer felt obligated to stay in Plethora to make sure she was okay.

Now that my father is gone and I never have to worry about my mother again, I was looking forward to spreading my wings, so to speak. It feels like my wings were just clipped. Where is a marine-grade polymer chair when I need one?! I have to find another outlet. I decide to clean. I place all of my old shoeboxes full of journals and notes in my bedroom closet. Then I organize my entire closet. My jewelry, my shoes, my clothes. She cannot move to Boston. My mother turns and assesses the building, running a finger over the windowsill next to her.

She picks up a layer of dust and wipes it between her fingers. I point at the windows behind her. It has potential. And she makes that sound. I drop my arms in defeat. My mother walks over to a nearby table and pulls out one of the chairs, taking a seat.

But if it fails and you lose your entire inheritance. You majored in business, you know that. I can accept that. I think she feels even lonelier now that I need her less and less.

She got a job at one of the elementary schools, so she did end up moving here. She chose a small suburb on the outskirts of Boston. She bought a cute twobedroom house on a cul-de-sac, with a huge backyard.

I dream of planting a garden there, but that would require daily care. My limit is once-aweek visits. Sometimes twice. I certainly hope this works out in your favor. There are shelves in the way of the door, so I careen my head around them and see a woman walk in. Her eyes briefly scan the room until she sees me.

A disaster waiting to happen in this dust bowl. I shake her hand. I was just out for a walk and saw the sign. Was curious, is all. Her voice is pleasant and her smile seems genuine. I wave my hand around the room. Her purse probably cost more than this building. Her eyes light up. I love flowers! What color are you painting it? Cleaning, decorating, picking out paint colors. All this stuff, really.

And she really is a Pinterest whore. The rest she says her husband can throw out when he has free time. But you do need a vision. I want to take risks. She shrugs. And maybe the color pink. And spring. Instead of pink accents, we use darker colors, like a deep purple or even black. I take a seat at the table again and try to get her on board.

I want to make that our theme. Instead of painting the walls a putrid sweet color, we paint them dark purple with black accents. And instead of only putting out the usual pastel displays of flowers in boring crystal vases that make people think of life, we go edgy. We put out displays of darker flowers wrapped in things like leather or silver chains.

The ideas are endless. But what floral shop caters to all the people who hate flowers? None of them. Allysa starts laughing, too, and she jumps up and hugs me. But my future office is full of old vegetable crates! I try to find something to grab hold of for balance, but the crates knock me off the chair.

When I land on the floor, I can feel my foot bend in the wrong direction. Allysa comes rushing back into the room and has to move two of the crates from on top of me. I shake my head. She begins dialing a number and then looks up at me. She puts the phone on speaker and sets it on the floor as she begins to roll up my pant leg.

I wince, but not so much from the pain. Listen, I need. I think my boss broke her ankle. I need you to bring some ice to. Allysa rolls her eyes. Free beer until. And bring a bag of ice. The brother sounds like he may be a little drunk, too. Allysa puts her phone back in her pocket. Will you be okay here? Wait until they get here, okay? I wait in the back for about ten minutes when I finally hear the front door to the building open. Did I mention he was wearing a onesie?

He steps around Marshall and the first thing I notice are his arms. Holy shit. I know those arms. Those are the arms of a neurosurgeon. Allysa is his sister? The sister that owns the entire top floor, with the husband who works in pajamas and brings in seven figures a year? Ryle touches my ankle and inspects it. I suck in air through my teeth and shake my head.

It hurts. I tilt my head. Or five. He hands it to Ryle, who presses it against my ankle. Ryle presses his palm against the bottom of my foot. He sits cross-legged and pulls my foot onto his lap. He looks around the room and then directs his attention back at me. But his hand on my foot is way more noticeable than the pain in my ankle.

I shrug. It gives it a bit more maturity than the SpongeBob option. He stares at me appreciatively. You make me kind of nervous. His eyes narrow as his hand moves to the underneath of my foot. He slowly traces his fingers from the tops of my toes, down to my heel. Ryle and I both look at the doorway and Allysa is standing there, wide-eyed. Her mouth is open as she points down at Ryle. Ryle pulls his bottom lip in and chews on it for a second. Ryle shrugs. Lots of people want to fuck me.

He and Marshall help me to my feet. Marshall is more or less just standing next to me for support. Maybe even a week or more, depending on how it heals. He carefully begins to wrap my ankle. Allysa is standing behind him, watching him wrap it. Marshall grabs her hand. Hired her a couple of hours ago. Then it hits me that he might think I hired her as a way to get closer to him.

I swear. We want two different things from life, remember? A languid smile stretches across his mouth. He has to stop saying things like that. I press my palms into the table and pull my leg down. His proximity makes it hard to pay attention to words that come out of his mouth. By the time Allysa and Marshall make it to us, Ryle is busy restacking all the crates that fell. Allysa looks down at my ankle.

I push my bottom lip out. I can work and do what I can to clean up while you rest. Not the same. I hop down and test my foot. He seems almost scared to touch me now for some reason. She takes my phone out and begins programming her number into it. Baths help, too. Maybe you should drive her home and take a cab back to the apartment, just to be safe.

Ryle shakes his head and then pats the roof of the car as he turns and walks away. And call me if you need anything. They begin walking down the street and I watch them in my rearview mirror. As they turn the corner, I see Ryle glance over his shoulder and look back in my direction. I close my eyes and exhale. But somehow, him being present made them feel like less of the disasters they were. Chapter Four It takes me half an hour to make it from my car to my apartment.

I slam our front door behind me and she glances up. I use the wall for support as I hop toward the hallway. I was gonna call you back! I swallow two of them and then fall onto my bed and stare up at the ceiling. I grab my phone and text my mother. Sprained my ankle. I think I like her more now that my father has passed away. Even though a lot of that resentment has faded when it comes to my mother, I still have the same feelings when I think of my father.

But dammit, he was awful. To my mother, to me, to Atlas. I hop pathetically to my closet, only tripping once. Luckily, I catch myself on my dresser. Once I have the journal in hand, I hop back to the bed and get comfortable. The vacuuming skit made me piss my pants. Oh, and I recruited a new Ellen follower today in Atlas. Before you start judging me for allowing him inside my house again, let me explain how that came about. But this morning, he sat by me on the bus again.

He seemed a little happier than the day before, because he slid into the seat and actually smiled at me. But the pants fit him a lot better than I thought they were going to. He leaned forward and unzipped his backpack. I finally looked down at the bag and opened it.

It looked like a bunch of old gardening tools. I was kind of in shock. I used to have a trowel, but the plastic broke off the handle and it started giving me blisters. I wanted to give you something. You know. He wrapped his arms around his backpack. Especially seniors. Being as though I have no electricity. We spent the rest of the bus ride talking about you, Ellen. When he made that comment about being bored, I asked him if he ever watched your show.

I told him he could watch your show with me after school. Katie would have a field day with that one, so I just let her stay in my seat. Atlas was at the front of the bus, so he got off before I did. He just kind of awkwardly stood there at the bus stop and waited for me to get off. When I did, he opened his backpack and handed me the bag of tools. He followed me inside and I locked the dead bolt. I asked him if he wanted anything to drink and he said sure.

I made us a snack and brought our drinks to the living room. But I did notice he laughed at all the right times. Every time he laughed at your jokes, it made me feel better about sneaking him into my house. He left right after your show was over. I wanted to ask him if he needed to use our shower again, but that would have cut it real close to time for my parents getting home.

A full week of reruns? I get that you need time off, but let me make a suggestion. Instead of recording one show a day, you should record two. That might seem a little too fan-girl. But honestly, I love it. He keeps my mind off things and I actually look forward to spending time with him after school every day. Dad got home late tonight, which means he went to the bar after work.

I swear, sometimes I get so mad at her for staying with him. That would be better than this. I can hear him yelling at her right now. Maybe I should go try that. As soon as I walked into the living room, I saw him push her down. He muttered something under his breath to her and then walked to their bedroom and slammed the door. I rushed to the kitchen and tried to help her, but she never wants me to see her like this.

When I walked closer to her, wanting to make sure she was okay, she turned her back to me and gripped the counter. Go back to your room. I ran straight out the back door and across the backyard. I was so mad at her for being short with me. I could hear him moving inside, like he accidentally knocked something over. A few seconds later the back door opened and he looked behind me, then to the left and right of me.

I used my shirt to wipe away my tears, and noticed he came outside instead of inviting me in. I sat down on the porch step and he sat down next to me. Sometimes I cry when I get mad. Then he put his arm around me and pulled me to him so that my head was resting on his shoulder. Completely opposite of my father.

We sat like that for a while, until I saw my bedroom light turn on. We could both see my mom standing in my bedroom looking for me. As I walked back home, I tried to think about the entire time Atlas has been in that house.

Reading about the things my dad used to do to my mom kind of puts me in a bad mood. Reading about Atlas kind of puts me in a sad mood. I try to fall asleep and think about Ryle, but the whole situation with him kind of makes me mad and sad. I could use a friendпїЅnot to mention helpпїЅduring these next few months.

Chapter Five Ryle was correct. It only took a few days for my ankle to feel good enough that I could walk on it again. I waited a full week before attempting to leave my apartment, though. The last thing I need is to reinjure it. Of course the first place I went was to my floral shop.

Allysa was there when I arrived today, and to say I was shocked when I walked through the front doors is an understatement. It looked like a totally different building than the one I bought. Everything else had been organized into piles. She even had the area where I plan to put an office cleaned out. It felt good to be back. I walk to the door and check the peephole before opening it. What is he doing here? I open the door and his immediate reaction confuses me.

But now that he mentions itпїЅhow in the hell does he know where I live? Holy hell. So much better than the onesie and way better than the Burberry. 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.

If you tell me what you want. He glances around, wearing his stupid hot scrubs, and puts his hands on his hips as he faces me. I have to be focused. At work, at home. I inhale a calming breath. Are you kidding me right now? I open the door and motion for him to walk out. His eyes fall to my foot. I was able to help Allysa at the store for the first time today. But as soon as he reaches me, he spins toward me and slaps his palms against the door on either side of my head.

I gasp at both his proximity and his persistence. I shake my head, even though my body is starting to trade sides and beg my mind to cave to him. He pushes off the door and stands up straight. He half-turns, heading for the hallway, but then suddenly drops to his knees in front of me.

He wraps his arms around my waist. I promise. Especially when he has this suggestive smile on his face. If you give me a little while to shower first, I might feel sexy enough to have sex with you.

Take all the time you need. He follows me to the bedroom and I tell him to wait on the bed for me. Luckily, I cleaned my bedroom last night.

My bed is even made up, complete with the ugly, quilted throw pillows my grandmother passed down to every person in our family. He takes a seat on my bed and I watch as he scans the room.

I stand in the doorway to my bathroom and try to give him one last out. I refuse to become one of the many girls you use toпїЅhow did you word it that night? Satisfy your needs? We have nothing to worry about. The scrubs are my weakness. It has nothing to do with him. I shaved more parts of me than was probably necessary, and then spent a good twenty minutes having a freak-out, and had to talk myself out of opening the door and telling him to leave.

I can totally have a one-night stand. Not just a lightпїЅoh I just fell asleepпїЅsnore. I drop down onto the bed, not even caring if I wake him. I just spent an entire hour getting ready for him after busting my ass today, and this is how he treats this night?

Plus, my bed is really comfortable. I should have warned him about that. I put the phone on silent and then lie down next to him. His phone is on the pillow next to his head, so I grab it and swipe up the camera option. I hold his phone above us and make sure my cleavage looks good and pushed together. His fingers trail over my shoulder and stop at my collarbone, just before they reach my neck. I have a small tattoo there that I got in college. I can feel his fingers circle around the tattoo, and then he leans forward and presses his lips against it.

I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter. I moan a little, trying to wake up, and then roll onto my back so that I can look up at him. Am I right? He leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead, and I hate that he just did that. You have no idea. Rip the Band-Aid off and let him leave. I wish you all the success in the world. You too, Lily. I listen as he puts his shoes on and then reaches for his phone. I squeeze my eyes shut until I hear the slam of the front door.

My face immediately grows warm, and I refuse to allow myself to mope. I force myself off the bed. I have work to do. Besides, I have my own life goals to worry about now. No time. Busy girl, here. I am a brave and bold businesswoman with zero fucks to give for men in scrubs. I nod, and she flips the sign to Open and we both hug and squeal like little kids.

We rush around the counter and wait for our first customer. I had a dream and I busted my ass to make it come true. Whatever happens after today is just icing on the cake. Besides, Marshall will come in at some point today and my mother will come in after she gets off work. Allysa squeezes my arm when the front door begins to open.

I suddenly grow a little panicked, because what if something goes wrong? And then I do panic, because something just went wrong. Terribly wrong. My very first customer is none other than Ryle Kincaid. He stops when the door closes behind him and he looks around in awe. When he finally does reach us, Allysa runs around the counter and hugs him. She waves her hand in my direction. All of it. I just helped with the dirty work.

Her skills were half of what brought this vision to life. He walks to one of the displays and grabs a vase full of purple lilies. I smile, wondering if he realizes he just picked lilies. Kind of ironic. Hardly ever. I watch his reaction closely. Are you going, Lily? She looks at me and narrows her eyes. Allysa rings up his total and he pays in cash. Of course I know that. He knows I know that. I almost encourage Allysa to give him a refund, but this is business. I have to leave my wounded pride out of it.

Once he has his receipt in hand, he taps his fist on the counter to get my attention. She stares at it for a moment, repeating the phrase. What in the hell does that even mean? I grab the card from her and flip it over. She leans over and reads the back of it with me.

Ryle just bought me flowers. Not just any flower. He bought me a bouquet of lilies. Allysa picks up her phone. He stopped by the floral shop this afternoon and Allysa took to him almost immediately. I smooth my hands over my hair and try to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the elevator walls. Am I that transparent? And he wants to have sex with me really, really bad. Please have sex with me.

I can hear music pouring from down the hallway. Do I need to make this guy jealous? Ryle does make it a point every time he sees me to tell me he hopes he never sees me again. Damn, your life just keeps getting more and more interesting. She sees me staring at the riding crop with a confused look on my face, so she tosses it over her shoulder and grabs my hand.

She continues pulling us through a crowd of people until we reach the other side of the living room. He turns around and smiles at me, then pulls me in for a hug. Maybe I got lucky and he got called in to work tonight. Good to meet you! Wrong guy, but nice effort. I follow Allysa into the kitchen, where she shoves a glass of champagne in my hand.

Marshall had seven bucks and drove a Ford Pinto when I fell in love with him. Devin is cute. I thought I was playing matchmaker when I invited him to the party tonight. She twirls her way out of the kitchen, giggling the whole time. I think I just met The Beggar. I think The Neurosurgeon has a better ring to it. I take another sip of my champagne.

Did he introduce himself? I sigh with relief. But then I let my shoulders drop and I fake cry. The room is even more crowded now. There have to be more than a hundred people here. We walk around and work the room. I stand back while Devin does most of the talking. The whole time I mingle with him, my attention is half on him and half on the room, searching for traces of Ryle.

It looks like a photograph blown up on canvas. I tilt my head to inspect it. I mean. Your sister has good taste. Just trying to make it stop.

He makes the shot, but the glass shatters when it hits the bottom of the empty container. I glance around me, but no one saw what just happened. The picture is blurred, so it was hard to make out at first. But I can recognize that hair from anywhere. This is the picture he took on the rooftop the first night we met. He must have had it blown up and distorted so no one would notice what it was.

Allysa appears at my side. I scratch at my chest. He bought me flowers. It all hits me at once. The anger. If the guy wants to have sex with me so bad. All I want is fresh air. I need fresh air. Luckily, I know just where to find it. Moments later, I burst through the door to the rooftop. There are stragglers from the party up here. Three of them, seated on the patio furniture. I ignore them and walk to the ledge with the good view and lean over it.

I suck in several deep breaths and try to calm myself down. The air is cold, and for some reason, I blame that on Ryle. Everything is his fault tonight. Wars, famine, gun violenceпїЅit all somehow links back to Ryle.

Immediately, all three of them nod and begin to stand up to give us privacy. His footsteps are slow and deliberate as he closes in on me. I turn around and grip the ledge behind me with both hands. His eyes journey down to my cleavage. He laughs and takes another step closer. And every time I get to the point where I start to not give a shit, you show up again out of the blue!

That pisses me off even more. I clench my fists. Do you want me or do you not? Make no mistake about that. Partly out of frustration and partly because everything he says makes me shiver and I hate that I allow him to make me feel like this. I feel too defeated right now to keep yelling at him. And knowing that you only want me for one night makes me really, really sad.

And maybe if this were a few months ago, we could have had sex and it would have been fine. You would have walked away and I could have easily moved on with my life. Stop flirting with me. Stop hanging pictures of me in your apartment. And stop sending me flowers.

It actually kind of hurts. He regards me silently, and I respectfully give him time to make his rebuttal. I walk across the roof and open the door, half expecting him to call out my name or ask me not to leave. I get all the way back to the apartment before I finally lose all hope of that happening. I push through the crowd and make it through three different rooms before I spot Devin.

When he sees the look on my face, he just nods and begins to make his way across the room toward me. So ready. Allysa gives me a hug and walks us to the front door. Devin opens the door, but right before we step into the hallway, I hear someone yell my name. I turn around and Ryle is pushing through the crowd on the other side of the room. My heart is erratic. He finally reaches a break in the crowd and makes eye contact with me again. He holds my gaze as he marches toward me. Allysa has to step out of his way as he walks straight up to me.

He scoops me up into his arms. Ryle starts to turn and walk back toward the living room. I look at Allysa as I pass her.

Her eyes are wide with confusion. Everyone in the entire room is staring now. I immediately start to yell at him and try to push him out of the way of the bedroom door, but he spins me and shoves me against the door, grabbing both of my wrists. His chest is pressing against mine, my back is pressed to the door.

And then his mouth is on mine. Warm pressure against my lips. Despite the strength behind them, his lips are like silk. His tongue slides against mine and he releases my wrists to grab my face.

His kiss grows deeper and I grasp at his hair, pulling him closer, feeling the kiss in my entire body. Both of us become a medley of moans and gasps as the kiss brings us over the edge, our bodies wanting more than our mouths can deliver.

My God, this man can kiss. But what his mouth has failed to do is respond to everything I told him upstairs. I pull my mouth from his and push on his shoulders.

I have to back away and face the other direction to gather my thoughts. Looking at him while I still feel his lips on mine is more than I can deal with right now. I feel his arms go around my waist, and he rests his head on my shoulder.

He turns me around and brings a hand up to my face and brushes his thumb across my cheek. I keep my arms folded across my chest and wait to hear what he has to say before I allow myself to respond to his touch. I went searching for you because no one in the history of my life has ever crawled under my skin and refused to leave like you did.

And the reason I sent you flowers this week is because I am really, really proud of you for following your dream. And yes, Lily. And until tonight. This is all new to me and I want to prove to you that I want you for so much more than just one night. I barely know the guy. My eyes instantly lock with his.

I will not have sex with you, Lily Bloom. He flips off the light, leaving only a lamp on, and then takes off his shirt as he walks toward me. Then at him. He pulls me toward the bed and lifts the covers for me to crawl in. Piece of cake. He reaches his dresser and plugs his phone in to a charger.

I take a moment to skim his bedroom. Three of my bedrooms could fit in here. Wipe her ass with it? And so great. I shuffle through one of the living rooms and try to find my way to the kitchen. Thank you, Jesus. I set it to brew and then go in search for a mug when the kitchen door opens behind me. Her hair is in a messy topknot and mascara is smeared down her cheeks.

She points at the coffeemaker. She pulls herself up on the island and then slouches forward. She barely has the energy to nod. I wave my hand around the kitchen. How in the hell did your entire house become spotless between the party last night and me waking up just now?

Did you stay up and clean? Think of something. We probably have people for it. Like for family members? Everyone in my family receives a gift and a card for every occasion and I never have to lift a finger. How long have you been this rich? Every six months, he creates updates and sells those, too.

It grows quiet for a while as I mix in creamer, waiting for her to say something about me and Ryle. The conversation is inevitable. I sigh, relieved. I hate this. She sets hers down beside her and then grips the countertop.

We just had this sort of flirtation thing going on for a really long time and it finally came to a head last night. I just. And I love him. I really do. Ryle is standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. No shirt. He walks over to me and takes my cup of coffee out of my hands. He leans in and kisses me on the forehead, then takes a drink as he leans against the counter. He begins to pour from the pot. He walks toward Allysa and pours it out in the sink.

She shakes her head and pulls her hands up to her face. But then he tosses his phone aside and leans back into the couch. Ryle pulls away from my mouth and slowly rakes his eyes down my body. Grand opening is on Friday. He starts to lower me to the couch, but then he shoves away from me and says.

I like you too much to make out with you. To my enjoyment, he puts on scrubs. Metropolitan Museum Cleveland Museum of Art. Internet Arcade Console Living Room. Books to Borrow Open Library. Search the Wayback Machine Search icon An illustration of a magnifying glass.

Sign up for free Log in. EMBED for wordpress. Want more? Advanced embedding details, examples, and help! Topics It ends with us - collen hoover Collection opensource. Sometimes it is the one who loves you who hurts you the most. Ryle is assertive, stubborn, maybe even a little arrogant.

As questions about her new relationship overwhelm her, so do thoughts of Atlas Corrigan пїЅ her first love and a link to the past she left behind. He was her kindred spirit, her protector. When Atlas suddenly reappears, everything Lily has built with Ryle is threatened.

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Want more? Advanced embedding details, examples, and help! Sometimes it is the one who loves you who hurts you the most. Lily hasn't always had it easy, but that's never stopped her from working hard for the life she wants. She's come a long way from the small town in Maine where she grew up--she graduated from college, moved to Boston, and started her own business. So when she feels a spark with a gorgeous neurosurgeon named Ryle Kincaid, everything in Lily's life suddenly seems almost too good to be true.

Ryle is assertive, stubborn, maybe even a little arrogant. He's also sensitive, brilliant, and has a total soft spot for Lily. And the way he looks in scrubs certainly doesn't hurt. Lily can't get him out of her head. But Ryle's complete aversion to relationships is disturbing.

Even as Lily finds herself becoming the exception to his "no dating" rule, she can't help but wonder what made him that way in the first place.

As questions about her new relationship overwhelm her, so do thoughts of Atlas Corrigan--her first love and a link to the past she left behind. He was her kindred spirit, her protector. When Atlas suddenly reappears, everything Lily has built with Ryle is threatened. With this bold and deeply personal novel, Colleen Hoover delivers a heart-wrenching story that breaks exciting new ground for her as a writer. Combining a captivating romance with a cast of all-too-human characters, It Ends With Us is an unforgettable tale of love that comes at the ultimate price"-.

I finished this book in days and I am a slow reader especially when I am not involved in a book. By far the best book I've ever read on earth! Don't forget to read It Starts With Us! It continues after this book! I am so involved with this book it is everything I can't wait until the movie comes out the actor Lily will be played by Blake Lively! Reviewer: Jay J - favorite favorite favorite favorite favorite - June 27, Subject: I loved this book so much It made me laugh and cry at the same time.

Or social status? Anyone can have children. Anyone can get married. But not everyone can be a neurosurgeon. I get a lot of pride out of that. I want to be the best in my field. It does make you sound arrogant. Are parents ever really happy with their children? Will they ever be good enough? A lot of people refuse to admit they might be too selfish to have children. But love has never appealed to me. It would make my life a hell of a lot easier.

I tend to become jaded easily, because no one ever meets my standards. He drags in a long, slow breath, and then rolls onto his back. I match his disappointment. Until now. I think. Is he even propositioning me? He reaches out and grabs the edge of my lounge chair. In one swift movement and with very minimal effort, he drags my chair closer to him until it bumps his. My whole body stiffens. If I were to look at him, his face would be mere inches from mine.

It travels straight to my toes. His fingers begin to crawl toward the hem of my shirt. He begins to slowly inch it upward until a slither of my stomach is showing. Against my better judgment, I face him again and the look in his eyes completely captivates me. He looks hopeful and hungry and completely confident. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as his hand begins to tease its way up my shirt. I know he can feel my heart thrashing around in my chest.

Hell, he can probably hear it. As soon as my eyelids fall shut, the piercing of a ring rips through the air. His phone. He drops his forehead to my shoulder. He fumbles in his pocket for his phone, standing up and walking several feet away from me to take the call. He listens intently, his hand gripping the back of his neck. On my way. When he turns to face me, he looks a little disappointed.

He points to the door that leads to the stairwell. He snaps a picture of me lying in the lounge chair, my arms relaxed above my head. I have no idea what he plans to do with that picture, but I like that he took it.

He stares at the photo on his screen for a few seconds and smiles. The thought of that is a little depressing. I hope you defy the odds of most dreams and actually accomplish yours. I probably never will again.

Misconception confirmed. He looks down at his feet for a moment as he stands in somewhat of an unsure pose. He glances at me one last timeпїЅthis time without so much of a poker face. I can see the disappointment in the set of his mouth before he turns and walks in the other direction. He opens the door and I can hear his footsteps fade as he rushes down the stairwell.

Chapter Two LucyпїЅthe roommate who loves to hear herself singпїЅis rushing around the living room, gathering keys, shoes, a pair of sunglasses. I have bereavement leave until Monday. She grabs her purse as she balances on one foot while sliding her shoe onto the other. Two of the most important qualities in a roommate.

I reach across the couch and grab it. I bring the phone to my ear. She sighs dramatically. Not even the slightest bit. I should have just had your uncle do it. Here she goes again. Of course she did. I just had nothing great to say about the unremarkable man she chose to be my father. Sorry I choked. I need to go, I have to run to the insurance office. Call me tomorrow, okay? I open the shoebox on my lap and pull out the contents.

On the very top is a small wooden, hollow heart. I run my fingers over it and remember the night I was given this heart. As soon as the memory begins to sink in, I set it aside. Nostalgia is a funny thing. Beneath all of it, I find what I was hoping was inside these boxes. My Ellen Diaries. I run my hands over them. I addressed each of my entries to Ellen DeGeneres, because I began watching her show the first day it aired in when I was just a little girl.

I watched it every day after school and was convinced Ellen would love me if she got to know me. I wrote letters to her regularly until I turned sixteen, but I wrote them like one would write entries in a diary. Luckily, I never actually sent any in.

But I still liked addressing all the entries to her, so I continued to do that until I stopped writing in them altogether. I open another shoebox and find more of them. I sort through them until I grab the one from when I was fifteen years old. I flip it open, searching for the day I met Atlas. I lie back on the couch and I begin reading. Maybe the producers can give her a camera and sometimes she can just sneak up on you and film you doing normal things, like watching TV or cooking or gardening.

It was interesting. Carson for looking at her cleavage. You remember a while back when I told you about Mrs. Burleson who lived behind us? It probably would have been more of a burden than anything. The house has been empty since Mrs. Burleson died, which has been about two years. Until last night. I was in bed shuffling cards.

But when my parents get into fights, shuffling cards just calms me down sometimes and gives me something to focus on. Anyway, it was dark outside, so I noticed the light right away. It was way too dark. Then after a little while, the light went out. This morning, when I was getting ready for school, I saw something moving behind that house.

I crouched down at my bedroom window and saw someone sneaking out the back door. It was a guy and he had a backpack. It was the first time he rode my bus. But when he got off the bus at school, I saw him walk into the school, so he must go there. I have no idea why he was sleeping in that house.

He walked down the street like he was going somewhere else, but I ran straight to my room and watched out the window. Sure enough, a few minutes later, I saw him sneaking back inside that empty house. I might wait a couple days before I say something and see if he goes back home. He might just need a break from his parents. Same as I wish I could have sometimes. I asked Katie who he was when she sat next to me on the bus.

She rolled her eyes and told me his name. But instead, I just looked back at him. I might have stared a little too much, because he caught me looking at him. When I got home I went to the backyard to do some gardening. My radishes were ready to be pulled, so I was out there pulling them. The radishes are the only thing left in my garden. I noticed as I was pulling them that some were missing. It looked like they had just been dug up.

I went inside my house and made a couple of sandwiches. I grabbed two sodas out of the fridge and a bag of chips. I put them in a lunch bag and I ran it over to the abandoned house and set it on the back porch by the door. By the time I got to the window to see if he was going to come outside, the bag was already gone. Does that make you nervous? Interviewing people who could potentially run the country? So much has happened to both of us. This morning when I got to the bus stop, Atlas was already there.

I could see the bus coming around the corner and I was wishing it would drive a little faster. His voice gave me chills, Ellen. Oh, wait. He was looking for me. When his eyes met mine, I looked down at my lap real quick.

He sat down next to me and dropped his backpack between his legs. They actually looked a little too small for him, because his ankles were showing. But he was skinny enough that they fit him just fine everywhere else.

I looked at him when he spoke, and he was looking right back at me like he was worried. It was the first time I had actually gotten a good look at him. His eyes were bright, unlike the rest of him. Real blue eyes, like the kind you see on a Siberian husky. I shook my head and looked back out the window. I grabbed my stuff and followed him off the bus. But today he started to walk toward my yard with me. When we got to where I would normally turn to go inside and he would keep walking, we both stopped.

He kicked at the dirt with his foot and looked behind me at my house. It was He looked down at the ground again, and I felt his embarrassment in my own stomach. He just followed me inside my house and never said a word. The whole time he was in the shower, I was panicking.

I had given Atlas a change of clothes, and knew he not only needed to be out of the house when my parents got home, but he needed to be far away from our house. In between looking out the window and checking the clock, I was filling up one of my old backpacks with stuff. I was zipping up the backpack when he emerged from the hallway. I was right. Even wet, I could tell his hair was lighter than it looked earlier. It made his eyes look even bluer. I swallowed and looked back down at the backpack, because I was shocked at how different he looked.

I was scared he might see my thoughts written across my face. I looked out the window one more time and handed him the backpack. I wondered how someone with such a great smile could have such shitty parents. I immediately hated myself for thinking it, because of course parents should love their kids no matter how cute or ugly or skinny or fat or smart or stupid they are. You just have to train it not to go there anymore.

I mean, I was scared to touch him. But not because I thought I was better than him. He just made me so nervous. He pointed past the kitchen, silently asking if that was the way to the back door. I nodded and walked behind him as he made his way down the hall. When he reached the back door, I saw him pause for a second when he saw my bedroom. I was suddenly embarrassed that he was seeing my bedroom. For the first time ever I felt like ripping down my poster of Adam Brody.

How does a guy who is obviously humble, well-mannered, and uses words like disparaging end up homeless? How does any teenager end up homeless? I need to find out, Ellen. You just wait and see. I grab the throw pillow next to me and shove my face into it, muffling a scream.

We can discuss it tomorrow. My father was diagnosed with cancer three years ago while I was still in college. It completely changed the dynamic of their relationship and I no longer felt obligated to stay in Plethora to make sure she was okay. Now that my father is gone and I never have to worry about my mother again, I was looking forward to spreading my wings, so to speak. It feels like my wings were just clipped. Where is a marine-grade polymer chair when I need one?!

I have to find another outlet. I decide to clean. I place all of my old shoeboxes full of journals and notes in my bedroom closet. Then I organize my entire closet. My jewelry, my shoes, my clothes.

She cannot move to Boston. My mother turns and assesses the building, running a finger over the windowsill next to her. She picks up a layer of dust and wipes it between her fingers. I point at the windows behind her. It has potential. And she makes that sound. I drop my arms in defeat. My mother walks over to a nearby table and pulls out one of the chairs, taking a seat. But if it fails and you lose your entire inheritance. You majored in business, you know that.

I can accept that. I think she feels even lonelier now that I need her less and less. She got a job at one of the elementary schools, so she did end up moving here. She chose a small suburb on the outskirts of Boston. She bought a cute twobedroom house on a cul-de-sac, with a huge backyard. I dream of planting a garden there, but that would require daily care. My limit is once-aweek visits.

Sometimes twice. I certainly hope this works out in your favor. There are shelves in the way of the door, so I careen my head around them and see a woman walk in. Her eyes briefly scan the room until she sees me. A disaster waiting to happen in this dust bowl.

I shake her hand. I was just out for a walk and saw the sign. Was curious, is all. Her voice is pleasant and her smile seems genuine. I wave my hand around the room. Her purse probably cost more than this building. Her eyes light up. I love flowers! What color are you painting it? Cleaning, decorating, picking out paint colors. All this stuff, really. And she really is a Pinterest whore. The rest she says her husband can throw out when he has free time. But you do need a vision. I want to take risks.

She shrugs. And maybe the color pink. And spring. Instead of pink accents, we use darker colors, like a deep purple or even black. I take a seat at the table again and try to get her on board.

I want to make that our theme. Instead of painting the walls a putrid sweet color, we paint them dark purple with black accents. And instead of only putting out the usual pastel displays of flowers in boring crystal vases that make people think of life, we go edgy. We put out displays of darker flowers wrapped in things like leather or silver chains. The ideas are endless. But what floral shop caters to all the people who hate flowers?

None of them. Allysa starts laughing, too, and she jumps up and hugs me. But my future office is full of old vegetable crates! I try to find something to grab hold of for balance, but the crates knock me off the chair.

When I land on the floor, I can feel my foot bend in the wrong direction. Allysa comes rushing back into the room and has to move two of the crates from on top of me.

I shake my head. She begins dialing a number and then looks up at me. She puts the phone on speaker and sets it on the floor as she begins to roll up my pant leg. I wince, but not so much from the pain. Listen, I need.

I think my boss broke her ankle. I need you to bring some ice to. Allysa rolls her eyes. Free beer until. And bring a bag of ice. The brother sounds like he may be a little drunk, too. Allysa puts her phone back in her pocket. Will you be okay here? Wait until they get here, okay? I wait in the back for about ten minutes when I finally hear the front door to the building open.

Did I mention he was wearing a onesie? He steps around Marshall and the first thing I notice are his arms. Holy shit. I know those arms. Those are the arms of a neurosurgeon. Allysa is his sister? The sister that owns the entire top floor, with the husband who works in pajamas and brings in seven figures a year?

Ryle touches my ankle and inspects it. I suck in air through my teeth and shake my head. It hurts. I tilt my head. Or five. He hands it to Ryle, who presses it against my ankle. Ryle presses his palm against the bottom of my foot.

He sits cross-legged and pulls my foot onto his lap. He looks around the room and then directs his attention back at me. But his hand on my foot is way more noticeable than the pain in my ankle. I shrug. It gives it a bit more maturity than the SpongeBob option. He stares at me appreciatively. You make me kind of nervous. His eyes narrow as his hand moves to the underneath of my foot. He slowly traces his fingers from the tops of my toes, down to my heel.

Ryle and I both look at the doorway and Allysa is standing there, wide-eyed. Her mouth is open as she points down at Ryle. Ryle pulls his bottom lip in and chews on it for a second.

Ryle shrugs. Lots of people want to fuck me. He and Marshall help me to my feet. Marshall is more or less just standing next to me for support. Maybe even a week or more, depending on how it heals. He carefully begins to wrap my ankle. Allysa is standing behind him, watching him wrap it.

Marshall grabs her hand. Hired her a couple of hours ago. Then it hits me that he might think I hired her as a way to get closer to him. I swear. We want two different things from life, remember? A languid smile stretches across his mouth. He has to stop saying things like that. I press my palms into the table and pull my leg down. His proximity makes it hard to pay attention to words that come out of his mouth.

By the time Allysa and Marshall make it to us, Ryle is busy restacking all the crates that fell. Allysa looks down at my ankle. I push my bottom lip out. I can work and do what I can to clean up while you rest. Not the same. I hop down and test my foot. He seems almost scared to touch me now for some reason. She takes my phone out and begins programming her number into it. Baths help, too. Maybe you should drive her home and take a cab back to the apartment, just to be safe.

Ryle shakes his head and then pats the roof of the car as he turns and walks away. And call me if you need anything. They begin walking down the street and I watch them in my rearview mirror. As they turn the corner, I see Ryle glance over his shoulder and look back in my direction. I close my eyes and exhale. But somehow, him being present made them feel like less of the disasters they were. Chapter Four It takes me half an hour to make it from my car to my apartment.

I slam our front door behind me and she glances up. I use the wall for support as I hop toward the hallway. I was gonna call you back! I swallow two of them and then fall onto my bed and stare up at the ceiling. I grab my phone and text my mother. Sprained my ankle. I think I like her more now that my father has passed away. Even though a lot of that resentment has faded when it comes to my mother, I still have the same feelings when I think of my father. But dammit, he was awful.

To my mother, to me, to Atlas. I hop pathetically to my closet, only tripping once. Luckily, I catch myself on my dresser. Once I have the journal in hand, I hop back to the bed and get comfortable. The vacuuming skit made me piss my pants. Oh, and I recruited a new Ellen follower today in Atlas. Before you start judging me for allowing him inside my house again, let me explain how that came about. But this morning, he sat by me on the bus again. He seemed a little happier than the day before, because he slid into the seat and actually smiled at me.

But the pants fit him a lot better than I thought they were going to. He leaned forward and unzipped his backpack. I finally looked down at the bag and opened it. It looked like a bunch of old gardening tools. I was kind of in shock. I used to have a trowel, but the plastic broke off the handle and it started giving me blisters. I wanted to give you something. You know. He wrapped his arms around his backpack. Especially seniors. Being as though I have no electricity.

We spent the rest of the bus ride talking about you, Ellen. When he made that comment about being bored, I asked him if he ever watched your show. I told him he could watch your show with me after school. Katie would have a field day with that one, so I just let her stay in my seat. Atlas was at the front of the bus, so he got off before I did. He just kind of awkwardly stood there at the bus stop and waited for me to get off. When I did, he opened his backpack and handed me the bag of tools.

He followed me inside and I locked the dead bolt. I asked him if he wanted anything to drink and he said sure. I made us a snack and brought our drinks to the living room. But I did notice he laughed at all the right times. Every time he laughed at your jokes, it made me feel better about sneaking him into my house. He left right after your show was over. I wanted to ask him if he needed to use our shower again, but that would have cut it real close to time for my parents getting home.

A full week of reruns? I get that you need time off, but let me make a suggestion. Instead of recording one show a day, you should record two. That might seem a little too fan-girl. But honestly, I love it. He keeps my mind off things and I actually look forward to spending time with him after school every day.

Dad got home late tonight, which means he went to the bar after work. I swear, sometimes I get so mad at her for staying with him. That would be better than this. I can hear him yelling at her right now. Maybe I should go try that. As soon as I walked into the living room, I saw him push her down. He muttered something under his breath to her and then walked to their bedroom and slammed the door. I rushed to the kitchen and tried to help her, but she never wants me to see her like this.

When I walked closer to her, wanting to make sure she was okay, she turned her back to me and gripped the counter. Go back to your room. I ran straight out the back door and across the backyard. I was so mad at her for being short with me. I could hear him moving inside, like he accidentally knocked something over. A few seconds later the back door opened and he looked behind me, then to the left and right of me.

I used my shirt to wipe away my tears, and noticed he came outside instead of inviting me in. I sat down on the porch step and he sat down next to me. Sometimes I cry when I get mad. Then he put his arm around me and pulled me to him so that my head was resting on his shoulder. Completely opposite of my father. We sat like that for a while, until I saw my bedroom light turn on. We could both see my mom standing in my bedroom looking for me.

As I walked back home, I tried to think about the entire time Atlas has been in that house. Reading about the things my dad used to do to my mom kind of puts me in a bad mood. Reading about Atlas kind of puts me in a sad mood. I try to fall asleep and think about Ryle, but the whole situation with him kind of makes me mad and sad.

I could use a friendпїЅnot to mention helpпїЅduring these next few months. Chapter Five Ryle was correct. It only took a few days for my ankle to feel good enough that I could walk on it again. I waited a full week before attempting to leave my apartment, though. The last thing I need is to reinjure it. Of course the first place I went was to my floral shop. Allysa was there when I arrived today, and to say I was shocked when I walked through the front doors is an understatement.

It looked like a totally different building than the one I bought. Everything else had been organized into piles. She even had the area where I plan to put an office cleaned out. It felt good to be back. I walk to the door and check the peephole before opening it. What is he doing here? I open the door and his immediate reaction confuses me. But now that he mentions itпїЅhow in the hell does he know where I live? Holy hell. So much better than the onesie and way better than the Burberry. 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. If you tell me what you want. He glances around, wearing his stupid hot scrubs, and puts his hands on his hips as he faces me. I have to be focused. At work, at home. I inhale a calming breath. Are you kidding me right now? I open the door and motion for him to walk out. His eyes fall to my foot. I was able to help Allysa at the store for the first time today. But as soon as he reaches me, he spins toward me and slaps his palms against the door on either side of my head.

I gasp at both his proximity and his persistence. I shake my head, even though my body is starting to trade sides and beg my mind to cave to him. He pushes off the door and stands up straight. He half-turns, heading for the hallway, but then suddenly drops to his knees in front of me. He wraps his arms around my waist. I promise. Especially when he has this suggestive smile on his face. If you give me a little while to shower first, I might feel sexy enough to have sex with you.

Take all the time you need. He follows me to the bedroom and I tell him to wait on the bed for me. Luckily, I cleaned my bedroom last night. My bed is even made up, complete with the ugly, quilted throw pillows my grandmother passed down to every person in our family.

He takes a seat on my bed and I watch as he scans the room. I stand in the doorway to my bathroom and try to give him one last out. I refuse to become one of the many girls you use toпїЅhow did you word it that night? Satisfy your needs? We have nothing to worry about. The scrubs are my weakness.

It has nothing to do with him. I shaved more parts of me than was probably necessary, and then spent a good twenty minutes having a freak-out, and had to talk myself out of opening the door and telling him to leave. I can totally have a one-night stand. Not just a lightпїЅoh I just fell asleepпїЅsnore. I drop down onto the bed, not even caring if I wake him.

I just spent an entire hour getting ready for him after busting my ass today, and this is how he treats this night? Plus, my bed is really comfortable. I should have warned him about that.

I put the phone on silent and then lie down next to him. His phone is on the pillow next to his head, so I grab it and swipe up the camera option. I hold his phone above us and make sure my cleavage looks good and pushed together. His fingers trail over my shoulder and stop at my collarbone, just before they reach my neck.

I have a small tattoo there that I got in college. I can feel his fingers circle around the tattoo, and then he leans forward and presses his lips against it. I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter. I moan a little, trying to wake up, and then roll onto my back so that I can look up at him.

Am I right? He leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead, and I hate that he just did that. You have no idea. Rip the Band-Aid off and let him leave. I wish you all the success in the world. You too, Lily. I listen as he puts his shoes on and then reaches for his phone. I squeeze my eyes shut until I hear the slam of the front door. My face immediately grows warm, and I refuse to allow myself to mope.

I force myself off the bed. I have work to do. Besides, I have my own life goals to worry about now. No time. Busy girl, here. I am a brave and bold businesswoman with zero fucks to give for men in scrubs. I nod, and she flips the sign to Open and we both hug and squeal like little kids. We rush around the counter and wait for our first customer. I had a dream and I busted my ass to make it come true. Whatever happens after today is just icing on the cake.

Besides, Marshall will come in at some point today and my mother will come in after she gets off work. Allysa squeezes my arm when the front door begins to open.

I suddenly grow a little panicked, because what if something goes wrong? And then I do panic, because something just went wrong. Terribly wrong. My very first customer is none other than Ryle Kincaid. He stops when the door closes behind him and he looks around in awe.

When he finally does reach us, Allysa runs around the counter and hugs him. She waves her hand in my direction. All of it. I just helped with the dirty work. Her skills were half of what brought this vision to life. He walks to one of the displays and grabs a vase full of purple lilies.

I smile, wondering if he realizes he just picked lilies. Kind of ironic. Hardly ever. I watch his reaction closely. Are you going, Lily? She looks at me and narrows her eyes. Allysa rings up his total and he pays in cash. Of course I know that.

He knows I know that. I almost encourage Allysa to give him a refund, but this is business. I have to leave my wounded pride out of it. Once he has his receipt in hand, he taps his fist on the counter to get my attention. She stares at it for a moment, repeating the phrase. What in the hell does that even mean? I grab the card from her and flip it over.

She leans over and reads the back of it with me. Ryle just bought me flowers. Not just any flower. He bought me a bouquet of lilies.

Allysa picks up her phone. He stopped by the floral shop this afternoon and Allysa took to him almost immediately. I smooth my hands over my hair and try to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the elevator walls. Am I that transparent?