It was still night, then. How long had she been sleeping? The pounding grew harder, louder, until she realized it was someone knocking at her door. “Crap.” She got up, still in her little pink robe. Shuffling through the apartment, she paused to flip on a lamp, then unlocked the deadbolt on her door. “I don’t know who this is, but it’s late and I think you’ve got the wrong—” As the door swung back there he was. Roan. Had she ever imagined he’d come after her? And damn it, if she had she might have soaked her post-crying jag eyes in a cool compress or brushed her hair. She was such a girl. Even more so because her heart melted a little seeing him standing there, so damn gorgeous with those incredible green eyes, his dark brows drawn, looking as disheveled as she’d ever seen him in a pair of low-slung sweat pants and a plain white T-shirt.
