P.S. I’m Still Yours: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Silver Springs)

I didn’t think this through.

Just one of the things that crossed my mind when I jogged down the stairs and found Kane, Drea, and Scar waiting by the door for their ride to Vince’s party.

Jamie, being tonight’s designated driver, offered to pick me up at the house. Little did I know, she and Drea have been texting, and when Drea found out Jamie was picking me up, she asked her if she had room for three more.

Jamie couldn’t bring herself to say no, and, well, here we all are, squashed like sardines in her fifteen-year-old car.

The apologetic look Jamie gave me through the rearview mirror when I slid into the back seat made it clear that she didn’t mean to trap me in a car with Kane.

In all fairness, I was crazy to think I could avoid him by staying out of the house twenty-four seven.

We have the same friends. We’re going to get invited to the same parties, whether I like it or not.

I might not be able to stay away from him, but that doesn’t mean I plan on getting close to the guy. Although, seeing us now, you might think otherwise…

I barely had time to sit down and buckle up before Kane dropped into the back seat next to me—as in, right next to me.

He could’ve sat in the passenger’s seat or waited for Drea to get in so he could have the window seat, but nope. He just had to sit so close to me I can feel his body heat radiating against my thigh.

He did that shit on purpose.

I know he did.

I just can’t figure out why.

I threw on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top over my bikini, but I’m starting to regret it. I just know Kane saw the goose bumps spreading over my skin when his hand brushed against my thigh earlier. He removed his hand like he didn’t mean to touch me, but his cocky smirk didn’t get past me.

Also… his hands…

They’re resting flat on his spread legs—because we all know guys don’t know how to sit normally—and Jesus. I hate that even his hands are attractive.

They’re big and tanned, and he’s got those long guitarist fingers. Not to mention a few defined veins snake up his wrists, hands, and knuckles, making me feel some type of way.

He’s also got black rings I’m sure cost more than anything I own on his pointer and ring fingers.

Kane Wilder has always been gorgeous, but now?

He’s dripping with sex.

His good looks didn’t affect me in the same way when we were kids.

My mind rarely ever wandered past kissing, but now? I’m thinking about what it would be like to have that hand wrapped around my neck, choking me a little while he—

“Just look at this fucking place.” Scar’s voice snaps me out of it.

I stretch my neck and catch a glimpse of Vince’s driveway through the windshield.

Scar has a point.

The place is gorgeous.

In fact, Vince’s beach house is nicer than ours. Scratch that—their beach house is nicer than all the houses in Golden Cove.

“Are all your friends loaded or something?” Scar glances at Kane from the passenger seat.

Jamie snorts. “Look at the car you’re sitting in right now.”

Scar shuts his mouth, catching her drift. Jamie’s car needs a lot of work. It could use a paint job, new brakes, and a new windshield. She also smashed one of her side mirrors while trying to parallel park two months ago.

I practically race out of the car from the moment she pushes the gear into park. I tense up when Kane climbs out after me, that sexy fucking smirk still dancing on his lips. Why does he look like he’s enjoying seeing me squirm?

“Who’s coming again?” I ask as we tread to the front door. The driveway is empty except for two cars I’m pretty sure belong to Vince and Cal.

I’m not sure why I thought the place would be packed. It sounded like Vince was planning on inviting most of Hillford earlier.

“Just us, Cal and Vince,” Jamie says as we step onto the porch. She rings the doorbell the next second.

Wait, so, it’s just going to be the seven of us?

Not exactly the making of a rager.

“What about Brooke? And Shay? Weren’t they coming?”

“No strangers allowed.” Drea fills in the blanks.

It takes me a second to understand she’s talking about people Kane doesn’t know.

The girls aren’t strangers to us, but they are to him. He’s why this party turned into a small gathering. I’m guessing Mr. Controversy can’t be out partying with people he doesn’t trust when the whole world wants his head on a pike.

“Why don’t you make them sign an NDA?” I ask.

“Not worth it. It’s just one night,” Kane says dryly.

“It doesn’t have to be one night. They could hang out with us for the summer if—”

He cuts me off. “I said, it’s not fucking worth it.”

Well, damn.

“Excuse me for asking. Jeez.”

My response makes him pause, and he inhales a sharp breath, turning to face me. “Sorry… it’s just… I’m on edge. The more people know I’m in town, the more chances the media will find out and hunt my ass down. I’m not risking it, NDA or not.”

As much as I dislike the way he expressed himself, I get why he’s scared right now.

He probably feels like the whole world’s out to get him, and he’s already playing with fire by leaving the house and having a somewhat normal life.

He’s supposed to be lying low, not partying with his friends, and I can’t blame him for having his guard up. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him talk to me like that for the next two months. I’m only giving him a pass because he apologized.

If I’m being honest, I’m surprised Evie even allowed him to come to the party. I’m guessing Drea and Scar tagging along to watch him played a big part in her decision.

The front door opens a heartbeat later, and Rejean, the Parks’ longtime butler, stands on the other side.

I can’t believe Vince turned out the way he did, considering his upbringing. He’s this chill surfer guy with neck tattoos and a taste for adventure, but he grew up in a house with a fucking butler.

“You must be Mr. Park’s guests. He and Mr. Torres are waiting for you in the backyard.” Rejean gestures to come inside.

I don’t know if he’s just pretending not to remember us or if he’s just getting old and officially at that point where he starts to forget his own address.

I could see him faking his amnesia as payback. He always hated us. And with good reason. The guys used to make his job a living hell every time we hung out at Vince’s place as kids.

We’ve just stepped foot inside the house when Kane turns to Drea and gestures to Rejean with a flick of his chin. Drea seems to understand what that means because she nods.

Drea shoves her hand into the beach bag she brought with her, pulls out a stack of paper, and makes her way over to Rejean. “Do you know what an NDA is?”

I bite back a scoff.

Just another day in the life of a superstar.

I was convinced I wouldn’t have fun tonight.

I told myself there was no way I’d be able to truly unwind in Kane’s presence.

Until shot number four, that is.

Shot number four fixed all of my problems—or, at the very least, put them on pause.

The five rounds of flip cup beforehand might’ve also contributed to my newfound I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck attitude.

We’re all pretty much gone by now. Well, except for Kane and Drea. Kane’s been drinking water, while Drea’s sipping on a mocktail she must not like very much, considering she’s been at it for four hours.

It’s clear that she takes her job very seriously, and she’s not here to enjoy herself but to make sure Kane doesn’t do anything stupid. As opposed to Scar, who’s had too many drinks to count. He and the guys hit it off immediately.

I can tell it’s pissing off Kane.

He probably wants nothing more than to say fuck it and join in on the fun. I was worried that we were being insensitive drinking in front of him, but Drea told me she’d warned him several times that tonight might be triggering for him, and he still insisted on coming.

My guilt faded away just as quickly as my sobriety did. The next thing I knew, I was hitting on Cal.

We’ve been flirting all night. I wasn’t sure how I felt about his seductive smiles and glances at first—being friends with his sister and all—but then I remembered Jamie gave me her blessing.

Plus, I promised Maggie I’d put myself out there this summer.

“Do you want to be with me?” Cal’s voice comes out as a rasp.

My eyes widen as he swims toward me, his curls soaked and pasted to his forehead. He stops inches away from me, propping his arm on the structure of the pool.

I glance around the backyard, as if to check if someone other than me is seeing this, and my gaze lands on Scar, Jamie, and Vince. Scar is sitting on a lounger, scrolling on his phone, while Jamie and Vince talk shit in the pool.

I whisk my head toward Kane and Drea, chilling by the firepit. I take that back. Drea is chilling.

Kane is not.

His body is tense, his jaw tight as he stares invisible bullets at something in the distance.

He looks beyond intimidating like this—shirtless, powerful, untouchable. A strand of brown hair falls in front of his green eyes, and his fists are clenched so tight his rings are probably cutting off the blood flow in his hands.

He’s been in a mood all night, sure, but we’re past that now.

Now, he looks furious.

And then it hits me.

He’s glaring at us.

“Hadley?” Cal brings me back.

“Sorry, what?”

He flashes a gorgeous smile. “I said, do you want to be with me? On my team, I mean? The guys want to play floating beer pong.”

I clear my throat. “Oh, um, sure.”

He inches closer, our breaths mingling as he stares at my mouth. “Maybe afterward, we could—”

“Cannonball!” I see Scar running from the corner of my eye but only realize what’s happening when he throws himself into the pool right next to us.

His body meets the water with a loud splash, and Cal and I back away from each other to avoid the worst of the spatter.

Looks like now wasn’t a good time to be gaping at Cal because water gets in my mouth and nose, sending me into a coughing fit.

Cal goes off on Scar as soon as he resurfaces. “Dude, what the fuck? You couldn’t do that shit on the other side of the pool?”

Scar shrugs. “Sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Cal diverts his focus over to me.

I can’t even reply, coughing my lungs out.

He tries to move closer to me, but I step back, gesturing to give me a second. Everyone asks me if I’m okay at least once before I manage to breathe properly again.

Once I’m done choking, I excuse myself, getting out of the pool. I grab my shorts off one of the loungers and beeline toward the house to get myself a glass of water that’s not ninety-eight percent chlorine.

I end up stopping by the bathroom afterward and take the opportunity to dry myself and put my shorts on before I freeze to death.

Damn it, I forgot my shirt in my bag.

I make sure to grab one of the canned peach-lemonade seltzers I brought out of the fridge before I head back outside, but what I see when I turn the corner drills me into place.

Kane and Scar are talking by the foyer, the loud music emanating from the backyard making the walls shake.

Then Kane slips Scar some money.

He tried to be subtle about it, too. Tried to pass it off as a handshake, but I know better than to fall for that shit.

Why is he paying him?

“Now, what do we say?” Scar taunts him.

“Fuck off.”

“You know how much I hate getting my hair wet. Least you can do is thank me.”

Wait…

Did Kane ask Scar to jump in the pool?

Kane snorts. “You’ll live.”

Don’t overreact. Don’t overreact. Don’t overre—

“What the hell?”

Kane and Scar spot me instantly, and I curse the universe for making Kane’s poker-face game so strong. He doesn’t even flinch when he sees me. He doesn’t look shocked or embarrassed that I caught them in the middle of a sketchy transaction.

Scar, on the other hand…

Guilt is written all over his face.

“Did you fucking pay him to cockblock me and Cal?” I slur.

The choking incident sobered me up for a bit, but not permanently. I still had way too much, and it’s starting to catch up to me.

Scar looks so guilty he’s already given himself away. “Hadley, hey. We were just—”

“Get out,” Kane tells his drummer, his face an unsolvable enigma.

Scar doesn’t argue, walking out into the backyard.

“I asked you a question,” I press as soon as we’re alone.

In response, Kane dips a hand into his jeans and pulls out something. A lighter. I drink him in. He’s wearing a black T-shirt now, his muscular body filling it out perfectly.

“What the fuck is the matter with you? Why would you ask your friend to do something like that? Why would you…” My voice trails off when he sets off toward the front door. “Hey, dickface, I’m talking to you!”

He doesn’t care, though, because the next thing I know, he’s swinging the door open and walking out onto the front porch. I stand there for a few seconds, trying—and failing—to process what just happened.

I eventually snap out of it and follow after him. I find him leaned back against one of the house pillars, smoking a joint like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

His indifference is aggravating. The breeze runs across my damp body, and I shiver. It’s getting chilly out, and I’m only wearing a bikini top with my shorts.

I park myself in front of him. “Did you pay Scar to cockblock us, yes or no?”

I already know the answer, but I want him to admit it.

He pulls the joint from his lips, exhales a thick cloud of smoke, and throws his head back against the pillar before saying, “Damn right I paid him.”

His bluntness knocks the breath out of me.

“What? Why?”

Still as unaffected as it can get, he shrugs. “Because Cal’s not the guy for you.”

I grind my teeth at his response. “Excuse me? You have got some nerve getting involved in my life when you—”

“When I what? Kissed the shit out of you the day before I left town?”

My jaw drops.

I hate that he’s acting like he didn’t do anything wrong. It makes me want to clock him in the head with the can I’m holding. I glance down at the unopened seltzer in my hand and realize…

Maybe it’s not that I’m too drunk.

Maybe it’s that I’m not drunk enough.

Under Kane’s scrutiny, I open the can and guide it to my lips. I start slow at first, but before I know it, I’m downing the alcohol inside. I can tell Kane doesn’t approve by the way he frowns, but I don’t give two shits what he thinks.

I’m almost done with the drink when he groans. “That’s enough.”

“You’re not answering the question,” I stop my chugging to say. His eyes are still packed with disapproval, but he’s staring at my chest now. I look down and realize a few drops of booze escaped my lips and are coursing down my breasts.

He brings his gaze back to mine. “Gray would’ve wanted me to keep an eye on you.”

“You’re not seriously pulling the Gray card right now. You ignored him for years, Kane. Years. He had to get shot in the fucking head for you to remember he existed!”

Kane’s poker face slips off for a second, and beneath it?

There’s pain.

Maybe even guilt.

He slaps his emotionless façade back on. “That’s beside the point.”

This is useless. We’re just going around in circles.

“Want to know what I think?” I move closer. “I think you did it because you know I used to have a crush on you, and your fragile little ego couldn’t handle the fact that I don’t anymore.”

He fake gasps. “Wait, you had a crush on me?”

Dick.

“You’re such a narcissist, you know that?” I drive my index finger into his chest, poking him.

He raises an eyebrow. “A narcissist, huh? Is that what you’ve been telling yourself to sleep at night?”

My confidence shrinks.

“It is, isn’t it? You cling to that bullshit story because it’s easier to tell yourself that I left because I don’t care about anyone than to accept I just didn’t care about you.”

Okay, that hurt.

“Fuck you,” I spit, turning to walk away and almost tripping. I manage to steady myself just in time, but right when I’m about to open the door, Kane snatches my wrist and pulls.

He spins me around, his tone authoritative and demanding as he says, “We’re going home.”

“Are you crazy? I’m not going anywhere with you.” I try to take my wrist back, but he doesn’t allow it.

He swipes the seltzer from my hand. “I’m taking that, too.”

“Hey!” I protest, but he’s already crushing the near-empty can in his grip and tossing it on the lawn.

“You’re drunk,” he states.

“Am not!”

He grits his teeth. “Start walking. Now.”

“You don’t even have a car,” I argue.

“I’ll just take Vince’s.” Before I know it, he’s opening the front door and grabbing Vince’s car keys from the key rack mounted on the wall.

“I want to stay.”

“Tough shit.” He presses a button on Vince’s key fob, and his car makes a beeping sound.

I cross my arms over my chest like I’m a toddler. “I said I’m not leaving.”

I think I catch his focus dropping to my breasts again, but he doesn’t linger for long, getting so close to me I can feel his breath crash against my mouth. “Get your ass to the car before I make you.”

I don’t back down. “Suck my dick, Wilder.”

“Fine.”

Nausea rolls through my stomach when my feet lift off the ground. He just fucking tossed me over his shoulder.

“Put me down. I’m not a child.” This upside-down situation isn’t helping with the queasiness.

“I wouldn’t have to treat you like a child if you didn’t act like one.”

We’re halfway to the car when my stomach gives me a warning I’d be stupid to ignore.

“Kane, wait, I don’t… I don’t feel good.”

Something in my voice must reflect how panicked I am because he puts me down immediately.

I don’t know if the booze is making me see things, but I swear there’s a hint of worry in his eyes. As soon as my feet touch the ground, Kane clutches my waist with both hands to steady me.

Then I throw up all over his shoes.

KANE

I’ve had many girls throw themselves at my feet in my life. I’ve even had a few girls kiss my shoes like hygiene wasn’t a thing and I was blessing the ground by just standing on it. Despite all of that, I’ve never had a girl throw up at my feet.

And that’s not to say I haven’t had my fair share of experiences with vomit.

A pregnant fan once puked all over herself when she saw me. I still gave her a hug because I felt bad she’d spent seven hours waiting in the pouring rain outside of my hotel.

There was also that time a fan brought a hat for me to sign and puked inside of it just as she was next in line for my meet and greet.

Spoiler alert: I still signed it.

I felt bad for these girls.

Of course I did.

But when I saw Hadley get sick?

Jesus, I would’ve set myself on fire if it could’ve made her feel better.

“Can you please get out?” Hadley begs for the eighth time in a matter of minutes.

“No.” I tell her the exact same thing I’ve told her the last eight times she asked.

We got home an hour ago, and I immediately led her to the bathroom. She’s been nonstop vomiting since.

It’s a miracle she managed not to hurl inside Vince’s car on the drive home. Although his driveway might need a good cleaning.

“This is disgusting,” Hadley says, shame dripping from her voice as she claws at the toilet seat, sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor.

I laid a towel down so that she wouldn’t have to sit on the cold tiles, but she’s still shivering like crazy. Probably because she’s only wearing her bikini top and shorts.

I twist her red hair tighter around my fist, holding it out of the way like I’ve been doing for an hour now. “I don’t give a shit.”

Does it smell good? No.

Does it bother me? Not even a little.

“I’m serious. Go. Please,” she pleads. I get that she doesn’t want me to see her like this, but what she doesn’t get is that I’m a stubborn motherfucker, and I have no intention of leaving her alone.

I promised myself I’d stay away, but right now, I want to be there. Even if just for one night. Then I can go back to avoiding her.

The puking eventually stops, and I wait another five minutes just to be sure she’s done.

“Drink.” I drop to my knees next to her and drive the glass of water I got her close to her face.

She waves it away, leaning against the wall behind her and huddling her legs to her chest. “Just leave, Kane. That’s what you’re good at.”

A scoff rips from my throat.

She has no fucking idea how wrong she is about that.

I’m good at many things, but leaving isn’t one of them.

I change the subject. “You need to stay hydrated.”

She ignores me, hugging herself and rubbing her palms up and down her arms.

“Hads?” I press when she doesn’t answer.

“What?” she snaps.

“Drink the fucking water.”

“I’m fine. See? I’m not—” Hiccup. “—I’m not even throwing up anymore. You can go.”

Am I crazy, or are her lips turning blue?

I don’t think twice, rising to my feet and booking it to my room. I come back a few seconds later, a black hoodie in my hand. Hadley’s features twist with exasperation as soon as I walk in. She probably thought she’d finally gotten rid of me.

Too fucking bad I’m not leaving her side.

I hand her the hoodie. “Put it on.”

She refuses to take it. “I don’t want your stupid sweater. I’m not even cold.”

Is she for real?

Her body’s shaking like a fucking leaf, and she expects me to believe that?

I’m done playing nice. “Put the fucking sweater on, or I’ll do it for you.”

She pins me with a defiant look, her blue eyes calling my bluff. I can’t even be mad at her right now. Her headstrong personality has always been what I like most about her.

I can still see her ripping my dad a new one after she’d caught him whooping my ass in the sunroom when we were kids. I remember how terrified she looked and how brave I thought she was when she didn’t let her fear take over.

“For fuck’s sake.” I go ahead and slide the hoodie over her head before she can argue.

I hear her bitching but don’t give it another thought as I guide her head into the collar and sweep her hair out of it.

My fingers brush against her neck as I do, and a sharp breath blows past her lips, the sexy little sound making me smirk.

Her arms are pinned down on each side of her body, and despite her annoyance, she gives in, sliding her arms inside the sleeves.

Color floods back onto her skin, and I sigh in relief. She’s looking better already.

“Now, drink.” I lift the glass to her face again, and she opens her mouth to say no. I seize the opportunity, taking the glass to her opened mouth and practically forcing her to drink.

She groans in disapproval but allows the room-temperature water to spill down her throat. My hand flies to her chin, and I tilt it back, coaxing her into taking several small sips.

She looks up at me, big blue eyes examining me as I do.

Fuck.

Everything about this girl turns me on.

“Let’s get you to bed.” I kill my hard-on before it tears through my jeans, placing the glass on the counter and pushing off the floor. I’ve just helped her up when she lets out a mocking laugh.

I snake an arm around her waist, digging my fingers into her side to keep her upright. “What?”

“You’re being awfully nice for a guy who never cared about me.”

I don’t know why I said that earlier. She just got under my skin with all that talk about me being a narcissist.

Mostly because she’s right.

I am a bit of a narcissist—it’s damn hard not to when you have millions of women worshipping you—but I didn’t always use to be. I wasn’t one the day I kissed her.

And I definitely wasn’t one when I texted Gray after I left and asked him not to tell her that he and I still kept in touch.

Hadley thinks I ghosted him up until the day he died, but the truth is, he’s the only one I didn’t ghost.

“I didn’t mean it,” I admit so quietly she doesn’t hear me. I debate on repeating myself but decide she’s better off not knowing.

I lead her into my bedroom shortly after, and she almost trips over her own feet. I tighten my hold on her waist at the last second, and her hand jumps to my shirt for balance.

Then she sniffs me.

Well, she sniffs my shirt.

I don’t bring it up, though, fighting a smile.

“Careful,” I say before I help her onto my bed.

“I wasn’t sniffing you!” she blurts out like I just accused her of manslaughter.

I chew the inside of my cheek to hold back my laughter. “I didn’t say you were.”

Hadley sits her pretty ass down on the edge of my bed and slurs, “Good. Because you smell stupid.”

Goddamn it, don’t smile.

You’re supposed to hate her, you brainless fuck.

“I smell stupid?” I go along with her nonsense.

She nods and drops onto her back. “Real stupid.”

“Will try to remember that.” I cut across my room and turn the light off.

“That’s not my bed,” she realizes when I reach her side.

“Well, aren’t you observant?”

I start by removing her shoes and turning on the lamp on the nightstand.

“But I want to sleep in my bed,” she protests. I don’t reply fast enough for her liking because she adds, “Did you hear me? I’m not sleeping here.”

“And I’m not leaving you alone to choke on your own vomit,” I counter.

She’s had way too much for me not to watch over her for the rest of the night. That and the thought of her sleeping anywhere other than my bed makes me want to peel off my own skin.

I spin on my axis, intending to go get her more water, but her hand grips my wrist, stopping me.

“Where are you doing?” she slurs.

I don’t bother correcting her. “To get you some water. Change while I’m gone.”

She lets go, and I make my way to my dresser. I pull out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, because I doubt her bikini and shorts are comfortable enough to sleep in, and put the clothes next to her.

I’m back with her water minutes later. I find her lying on top of the covers in my T-shirt and sweats, with her cheek mashed against my pillow and her pouty mouth open.

There’s something addictive about seeing Hadley in my clothes.

Shit, I could get used to this.

“Under the covers, Hads,” I command, but she’s too far gone.

I struggle to get her body under the duvet for a few minutes, but she doesn’t make a sound or wake up. I figure she’s down for the night, and I could probably get in a quick shower.

I’m about to walk back to the bathroom when a quiet, breathy voice tugs at my cock. “Kane?”

I turn to see her looking at me through tired eyes, her arm held out in my direction.

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay until I fall asleep?”

I don’t reply right away, and she seems to think I’m going to say no because she adds, “Please?”

I wasn’t going to say no—I don’t think I could say no even if I tried—but I still play it off like I’m doing her a favor.

“Okay.” I climb into bed behind her but keep a good amount of distance between us.

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. So, I just lie there and wait for her breathing to become regular.

A few seconds elapse.

Then she backs herself up into my pelvis.

Jesus Christ.

She doesn’t stop until I’m spooning her. She’s under the covers, and I’m lying on top, but I’d be surprised if she didn’t feel my swollen cock against her ass.

She doesn’t say anything, though, and I make the mistake of enjoying the moment.

I sag into her, press my chest to her back, and rest a hand on her stomach, clutching her to me. I selfishly hold her, nestling my nose into her hair as my cock drifts back to sleep.

I’m all good and collected until she shifts in my arms, rubbing over my crotch again.

My hard-on is back in an instant.

Not now, my man.

“You still smell stupid,” she whispers under her breath.

I can’t smother my grin at her drunk words.

I don’t just smell stupid—whatever that means.

I am stupid.

I’m a fucking idiot for not telling her the truth.

She may think she hates me now, but that’s nothing compared to how she’d feel if she knew what really happened that night.

I wait until she’s asleep and reluctantly separate from her. I’ve just walked into the bathroom and started the shower when my phone pings with a text.

It’s Scar.

SCAR

Hey, fuckface. Where’d you go?

He double texts me.

SCAR

Never mind. Vince told me you’re with Hadley.

At first, I wonder if I should deny it, but I decide there’s no point in me lying.

I texted Vince that I took his car to take Hadley home and I’d get it back to him first thing in the morning. He said it was cool. Probably before telling everyone at the party that I left to take care of the girl I claim to hate.

I decide not to answer him. I’m sure he’ll lecture the hell out of me when I see him in person, anyway. And he can’t say anything to me that I don’t already know.

It isn’t long until he sends me a third message.

Here comes the lecture.

SCAR

Not trying to tell you what to do, but… you sure getting close to her is a good idea?

I’m not.

Not for a fucking second.

All it took was one asshole hitting on her for me to break all of my rules. I thought I was going to push Cal’s thick head underwater and drown his ass earlier.

For a fleeting moment, I let myself forget that I can never have this girl.

Tonight, I let myself forget what I did…

Never again.