“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-of-factly. “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. All I can think about is how crazy it feels when I’m near you, and I need you to make it stop, Lily.” He stops pacing and faces me. “Please make it stop. Just once—that’s all it’ll take. I swear.”

My fingers are digging into the skin of my arms as I watch him. He’s still panting a little, and his eyes are still frantic, but he’s looking at me pleadingly.

“When is the last time you’ve had sleep?” I ask him.

He rolls his eyes like he’s frustrated that I’m not getting it. “I just got off a forty-eight-hour shift,” he says dismissively. “Focus, Lily.”

I nod and replay his words in my head. If I didn’t know better . . . I’d almost think he was . . .

I inhale a calming breath. “Ryle,” I say carefully. “Did you seriously just knock on twenty-nine doors so you could tell me that the thought of me is making your life hell and I should have sex with you so that you’ll never have to think of me again? Are you kidding me right now?”

He folds his lips together and, after about five seconds of thought, he slowly nods his head. “Well . . . yeah, but . . . it sounds way worse when you say it.”

I release an exasperated laugh. “That’s because it’s ridiculous, Ryle.”

He bites his bottom lip and looks around the room, like he suddenly wants to escape. I open the door and motion for him to walk out. He doesn’t. His eyes fall to my foot. “Your ankle looks good,” he says. “How does it feel?”