-Roxy Delgado:
I woke up to the sound of someone yelling. At first, I thought it was part of my dream — something vague and loud in the background, like a muffled argument behind a wall.
Then I heard Jackson's voice cutting through it, low and annoyed, and my eyes blinked open to the dim room. My body felt heavy, warm, comfortable. For a second, I didn't even register where I was — the soft sheets tangled around my legs, the faint scent of perfume mixed with sweat and skin. Then I turned my head and saw her.
Sloane.
Her hair was a mess, spilling over the pillow like waves of gold and brown, her bare shoulder peeking out from under the blanket. Her face was turned toward the window, still half-asleep, lips parted just slightly. I froze — because for a second, it all came rushing back.
Last night.
