Sloane's POV.
The door clicked shut. It was a heavy, final sound that sounded more like a prison cell locking than a luxury suite closing.
Roman was gone.
I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, my fingers clutching the thick fleece of the black hoodie he’d given me. It was so big it reached mid-thigh, the sleeves hanging past my knuckles. It was warm. It smelled like him...that clean, expensive scent of cedar and some kind of high-end soap that cost more than my rent used to. Every time I breathed, I felt him around me. It was a strange kind of comfort, one I knew I shouldn't want.
My body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The pain in my shoulder was a steady, rhythmic throb that made my vision blur if I moved too fast. I looked down at my hands. They were pale, almost
