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He opens it almost instantly, like he was already standing there.

“You move fast,” he says, leaning against the frame with that lazy grin. “Should I clear out a drawer too?”

“Don’t tempt me,” I shoot back. “I color-code.”

I push past him and into the apartment, taking a slow, sweeping look around.

It’s clean. Shockingly so. Like he either lives like a minimalist hockey robot… or just shoved everything he owns into a closet.

“Okay, it’s giving ‘hockey cave with potential,’” I declare, setting the lamp down on the kitchen table. “This lighting situation is tragic.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You need a specific vibe to memorize case law?”

“Absolutely. Ambience is half the battle. So, which room is the official study cave?"

Nate gestures toward a door down the hall. "Second one on the left. It doesn’t get used for much. There’s just a desk, a chair, maybe some ghosts."

I shoot him a look. “If I find one, I’m making it quiz me on tort reform.”

I grab my lamp, make my way to the room and flip on the overhead light.

It’s simple, but not bad. There’s a sturdy desk along one wall, a rolling chair that definitely looks like it’s seen a few late-night strategy sessions, and a low bookcase with a random mix of hockey gear and a few trophies. A futon sits beneath the window, folded neatly, with a gray blanket draped over the arm. No frills. No clutter. It just screams bachelor.

I smile to myself, set the lamp down on the desk and plug it in. The yellow glow immediately softens the space, making it feel less like a spare room and more like mine, at least temporarily. Then I unpack my mug, a stack of notebooks, and a highlighter pouch so aggressive it could signal aircraft.

Nate watches from the doorway like I’m installing IKEA furniture.

“Is this part of some nesting ritual I should be worried about?”

“You’re just lucky I didn’t bring throw pillows.”

He watches me with a curious smile. “You’re really doing it. Taking over.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave the testosterone unbothered. But this…” I wave at the study nook I’ve unofficially claimed, “this is mine now.”

“Noted.”

I sit, open a notebook, and pretend I’m going to study. Instead, I glance around again. The apartment’s quiet in a good way. Comfortable. Like him.

There’s a knock at the door. Nate shoots me a look. “Expecting backup?”

“Nope.”

We both go to the door. Kira breezes in like she’s been here a dozen times already, carrying a canvas tote overloaded with snacks, a candle, and a mini cactus in a pink ceramic pot.

“Ladies!” she sings. “Study session upgrade. You’re welcome.”

She drops into a chair and looks around. “Okay, this is… surprisingly not gross.”

Nate folds his arms. “I’ll take that as a glowing review.”

Kira grins. “You should. Mandy’s usually allergic to man caves.”

“I cleaned,” he deadpans.

She hops off the couch. “Where’s the new digs?”

“Over here. C’mon, I’ll show you.”