Four boxes.

One duffle bag.

Two suitcases.

My entire life's possession sits neatly packed by the front door waiting to be picked up. None of the furniture is mine, not even the glasses or plates in the cupboards, just a bit of clothes and odds and ends.

A firm knock on the door makes me jump but I quickly open it seeing Jonathan on the other side. He looks identical to last night wearing a fine black suit looking like he's straight out of an executive meeting.

His chestnut hair is swept back neatly, and russet short cropped beard perfectly trimmed, accentuating his strong jaw but it's his eyes that catch my attention. Warm chocolate brown with a strong kindness to them.

I had a plan.

I was going back to my grandmas, but I just couldn't say no to him. Anne had offered me a job, but I know she was just doing it because of what happened. I'm sure she's behind his job offer but it takes care of all my problems at once, a steady job and a place to stay... if I can keep it together.

"Izabella," he greets with a smile. "Are you all set?"

"Yes Sir," I reply instantly. My eyes go wide as fear sweeps me that I've messed up so soon. "Sorry!" My eyes hit the floor trying not to upset him further.

I really need this job.

"Izabella," he says softly closing the gap. "Look at me." His voice is firm and commanding but there's not a hint of anger or malice.

Nervously I lift my gaze to his, fully expecting irritation, but instead his eyes are soft and gentle as they search mine.

"I'm sorry... I don't know why-"

"Shhh," he coos, cutting me off. "Izzy, can I call you Izzy?"

"Yes," I whisper, shifting nervously.

"Izzy, I want you to feel comfortable with me. I'm not your Dominant, so you don't have to call me Sir, but if you prefer that, I don't mind. Otherwise Jonathan is fine too," he offers, instantly relaxing me a bit.

"It's not you... it's me," I mumble, dropping my gaze once more.

"Relax Izzy, I'm not mad and you've done nothing wrong," he says softly. "It'll just take a bit of time for both of us to adjust."

I look up through my dark lashes and see nothing but kindness. He's not mad at me for slipping up, nor irritated because I'm nervous. A sigh of relief slips past my lips as I reel in my emotions once more.

"Now where's the rest of your stuff?" He asks, scanning my apartment.

"This is it," I reply, feeling my cheeks burn.

Jonathan eyes the small pile and raises a brow, clearly having expected more. "The furniture?" I shake my head.

"I guess I won't need the movers or a storage unit," he laughs rubbing his neck.

He slips off his jacket and sets it on the back of the couch before grabbing the first box. I try to stop him but he flashes me a look that stops me in my tracks.

I may not know much about him yet but just the way he moves and his energy lets you know who he is... a Dom. Not someone trying to force his will over someone else, but a natural...The way he talks, never having to raise his voice to get his point across... all radiate power and control.

Jonathan takes the first box and heads down the stairs so I grab one and follow suit. It's light but bulky making it awkward to maneuver down the tight hallway. He however makes it look easy though his over six foot frame probably has a lot to do with it.

Effortlessly he one arms the box and opens the back hatch of his SUV before slipping his box in and taking mine. After a quick text he leads the way back up for the remainder.

"I've got the boxes, why don't you just grab the suitcases," he suggests in a way that leaves no room for contention.

On my final trip up to take a quick look around to make sure I didn't forget anything I'm struck by how little of an impact I made here. I had no pictures on the wall, heck I didn't even paint them, just lived with the sickly commercial beige they were when I moved in.

"You good?" Jonathan asks, folding his jacket over his arm.

"Yeah, just doing a once over... I'm ready when you are," I say, tucking my hair behind my ear. He nods and motions for me to head out.

"Hey Izzy," my neighbour Max calls. His curly brown hair is slick with sweat and he looks to be back from a run.

"Hi Max," I say with a wave. "Listen I just wanted to say thanks again for everything, I've really appreciated having you as a neighbour."

"You know I'm always here for you," he says, taking a step closer. "What's with all this heavy talk?"

"I'm moving," I mumble, not wanting to prolong this. He's always been a nice enough guy, but sometimes I think his intentions may be more than just neighborly.

"Whoa, Izzy, why didn't you say something? I could have gotten you in at my work or fronted you-"

"Everything okay out here?" Jonathan asks, closing the door behind him. The tight hallway suddenly feels stifling with both men staring each other down.

"Everything's fine," I dismiss. "I was just saying bye to Max." Jonathan softens slightly and holds out his hand to shake.

"Jonathan Fletcher," he states, pausing for Max's response.

"Max," he replies with an guarded expression as he reluctantly accepts the hand shake. "Helluva a grip you've got there," he grits out when Jonathan releases him.

"Is there anyone else you need to see before we head out?" Jonathan asks me, completely ignoring Max.

"Nope, just need to drop the keys off in the mail slot," I say with a small smile.

"After you," Jonathan replies, slipping a firm hand on my lower back and encouraging me to go. He gives Max one final sharp nod and escorts me down the steps.

Dropping off my keys is bittersweet after calling this home for the last 5 years. Jonathan walks briskly to the SUV and opens the door for me, waiting for me to buckle in before closing it and making his way to the drivers side.

As he pulls out I can't help but notice a tension that wasn't there before. The way he grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles pale and how he ticks his jaw.

Did I do something wrong?

"So where do you live?" I ask, trying to break the tension. Jonathan takes in a deep breath and sighs, releasing some of his tension.

"How do you feel about shopping?" He counters, sparing me a sideways glance.

"Pardon?" I gape, earning a crooked grin.