Sienna’s POV

I lie flat on the bed, sheets clinging haphazardly to my legs, my heart galloping as if I just ran a marathon. My gaze is fixed on the ceiling, but my mind replays a vivid dream that refuses to loosen its grip. I can almost taste the lingering sweetness of hot chocolate and feel the phantom heat of Jonah’s fingertips brushing against my skin—my throat still tingles from the memory.

Why him? Why now? Just as I’ve rebuilt my life, one brick at a ...