Jojo’s P.O.V.
The second I stepped through my front door, I locked it. Not that Raven would follow me. No—he’d made it perfectly clear where we stood. I exhaled sharply, leaning against the door for a second before forcing myself to move.
Sweater.
Wine.
Ice cream.
That was the plan.
I tossed my bag onto the couch and made a beeline for my bedroom, stripping off the clothes I had worn to the lakehouse and yanking on my favorite oversized sweater—the one that practically swallowed me whole. Exactly what I needed. A physical barrier between me and the absolute disaster of a night I had just survived.
God.
I rubbed a hand down my face, feeling the sting of unshed tears. I didn’t want to cry over Raven Miller. Not after what he had said. Not after the way he had made me feel. I stor
