I blink at her and then laugh. It’s that or cry. “Seems everyone is getting tropical vacations these days.”

“I highly recommend it,” Maeve says and then gets an elbow to the stomach from Maggie. “What?”

“Anyway, I just wanted to save Keegan’s reputation. He’s not sleeping with me. He’s taking the couch, which I’ve told him repeatedly he doesn’t have to do. I would probably fit there better than he does.”

“I thought there was an air mattress up here,” Maggie says. “I’m so sorry, Izzy. You can come stay with me. I actually have an extra bedroom with a bathroom. It’s just sitting there unused.”

I frown and glance up at Keegan, who still hasn’t said anything. “But would you be okay here by yourself?”

His lips turn up in humor as Maeve laughs her butt off.

“He’s going to be just fine,” Maeve insists.

“You don’t have to go if you’d rather not,” Keegan says. “I’m not kicking you out. But, yes, I’ll be fine if you decide to go and stay with Maggie. I’ll still see you when you come to work.”

I nod, thinking it over. It would be nice to have a little more space, and Keegan would get his bed back.

“I think it’s kind of a no-brainer. You need your bed, Keegan.”

He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s up to you.”

“Are you sure? I can start paying you rent next month,” I say to Maggie.

“Oh, we’ll figure it out. And, yes, I’m sure. We can move you over this morning.”

I smile, starting to get excited at the thought of sharing a place with Maggie. I’ve come to think of the other woman as a good friend.

“Thank you so much.”

“Oh, and these arrived for you,” Keegan says, pointing at two brown boxes. “I’ll make you some coffee.”

“Thanks.” I stare at the boxes and then sigh. “Does someone have a knife?”

“Here.” Keegan returns with a pocketknife, slices open the tape on the boxes, and then goes back to brewing the coffee.

The man is handy to have around.

I open the first box and find my laptop, some papers, my phone charger, makeup, and hair supplies all thrown inside.

Nothing is wrapped.

At first glance, I’d wager that my laptop is ruined.

“Dude, that’s a big mess,” Maeve says.

“Your poor computer,” Maggie agrees.

“I guess he was a little bitter,” I reply with a sigh and set the box aside, then reach for the other, bigger box. “This should be clothes.”

I’m not wrong. He tossed my clothes into the box, along with a couple of pairs of shoes. One of the flats doesn’t have its match. And then I scowl at a pair of pink, lace panties.

“These aren’t mine.”