“But we never got to the heavier role-play I wanted. And now we never will, and I have to start over completely with someone else, and it just makes me so mad.” Her face had gone from sad to stormy, her body rigid with outrage. “Like, sugar in his gas tank mad.”

“That’s pretty mad,” he allowed. “Don’t do that, by the way.”

“I won’t. But I have to go back over there to get the rest of my stuff, and I’m afraid if I see him, I’m going to set something on fire. Like his pubic hair.”

He fought to keep the smile off his face. “Don’t do that, either. Do you still have your key?”

“Yes.”

“Can you make me a list of everything in the apartment that’s yours?”

“I made one already. Why?”

“Because you’re going to give me the key, and I’ll go get your stuff today.”

She blinked. “Today? No. I mean, I don’t have a place to stay yet, and there are a couple of heavy things—”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll call one of the guys for help. Jack, since you don’t want any of the girls in your face just yet.”

“Cade, it’s really nice of you to offer, but—”

“How much do you have?”

She paused to think, fingertips drumming on the counter. “A dozen boxes worth of small stuff, probably, and three larger pieces. But it can all wait.”

“A bed? Couch?”

She shook her head. “I sold those when I moved in with Kyle. There’s just a dresser, a small console table, and my reading chair.”

“Where’s your list?”

“In my purse, but it’s in shorthand.”

He rose from his stool and circled the island. He opened a drawer, took out a pad of paper and a pen, and slid them across the countertop. “Write it down in whole words, and I’ll go get it. Sounds like I can fit everything in the truck, but I’ll have Jack bring his, too, just in case.”

She picked up the pen, toying with it as she studied him. “I need to find an apartment first, Cade. It doesn’t make sense to move everything twice.”

“It makes less sense to leave it at Kyle’s. I’ve got plenty of space in the basement, so storage isn’t a problem. And you’ll feel better with your things here.”

She tapped the pen on the pad of paper and chewed on her lower lip the way she did when she was uncertain. He did his best to ignore it, but he was grateful for the island between them that hid his inevitable reaction.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“Consider this a consensual non-consent scene,” he told her, and she snorted.