Jojo’s P.O.V.
The night was still, the only sound the distant hum of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Raven and I sat curled up on the back porch, his arms wrapped securely around me as if he thought I might float away if he let go. Which, honestly, was a real concern given the way his hands had been wandering like they had a personal vendetta against my personal space.
“Raven,” I murmured, squirming just a little as his fingers traced lazy circles on my hip.
“Are you trying to tickle me to death?”
He exhaled a quiet chuckle against my hair, his breath warm.
“I still need to apologize to you. Let me work up to it.”
I huffed but settled back against his chest. For all my grumbling, I wasn’t exactly about to push him away. Not when he smelled like that—like
