Chapter 73

**Ronan**

I wake to the sound of fabric and quiet cursing. Sloane is half out of bed, one knee hooked over the edge like she’s trying to rappel off my mattress with nothing but stubbornness and willpower.

“Don’t even think about it,” I say, catching her waist before she can slip free.

“I’m not thinking. I’m doing,” she mutters, prying at my hand. “I’ve rested.”

“You were unconscious,” I counter. “