Ariana’s POV
The rain was relentless.
It slammed against the windowpane like it was trying to crawl in, flooding the room with soft thunder and a cold breeze that crept through the cracked glass.
But I wasn’t cold.
Not even close.
I was burning.
I lay there on my bed, curled up under the sheets, Roman’s hoodie clinging to my skin like a second heartbeat. His scent was still trapped in the fabric dark, warm, addictive. And no matter how many times I tried to push him out of my head, he always crept back in.
His voice.
His hands.
His mouth.
The way he used to look at me like he couldn’t breathe without me.
I closed my eyes.
And I was there again.
Pressed up against the wall. His lips dragging down my neck. His fingers bruising my thighs. The low growl in his throat when I whispe
