Roman’s POV
Her lips were still on mine, soft and hungry, trembling with need that mirrored the ache twisting inside me. My fingers curled against the back of her neck, the IV line in my arm pulling slightly, but I didn’t care. Pain didn’t matter when she was this close when her breath mixed with mine and her tears still clung to her cheeks.
God, she was here.
My Ariana.
The one girl I wasn’t supposed to want, wasn’t supposed to touch, and yet here she was, straddling me in a f*****g hospital gown while machines beeped warnings around us.
Her hand pressed against my chest, not to push me away—but to feel me. To remind herself I was alive. I could feel her heartbeat through her palm, fast, erratic… just like mine.
“You scared me,” she whispered against my lips. “You nearly died, Roman
