Jojo’s P.O.V.
I stood on Raven’s front porch, shifting my weight from foot to foot as I adjusted the sleeve of my oversized sweater. My cute little dress from last night had been traded in for a pair of soft black leggings and a thick, cozy sweater that swallowed most of my frame. Not that I didn’t want to look good for Raven—oh, trust me, I did. But I also knew I was in for a full day of babysitting Lucy with Raven not even being present, which meant running, crawling, probably even some piggyback rides, and possibly some emergency arts and crafts. It was better to be prepared than to be restricted by a too-tight dress and uncomfortable high-heeled shoes.
Still, as I stood there waiting, my mind kept betraying me, drifting back to last night. To Raven. To his hands. His lips. The way he
