Page 166 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

Drea’s spent half a decade with Kane. It’s her job to know how he thinks and make it so that he doesn’t say or do the wrong thing publicly.

She knows him better than almost anyone.

And she’s right about one thing. He might’ve stopped running from our connection, but in the beginning, there was something stopping him.

He avoided me, tried to make me hate him, pretended like he never cared about me.

He insinuated more than once that we couldn’t be together.

But then we hooked up.

And everything changed.

It’s like his resolve snapped.

Like his resistance was blown to pieces after we gave in to each other.

At first, I thought he was just being a typical guy, freaking out about commitment and his feelings for me, but now?

I’m thinking there has to be more to the story.

Drea’s eyes flare with realization. “Oh, and we need to start working on a way to tell the world you’re dating.”

My stomach twists into a big knot.

I’ve always known we’d have to deal with the media eventually, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

Drea contemplates our options for a moment. “We might want to wait until the trial’s over. The last thing we need is more drama. Not to mention everyone thinks he was dating that Tate chick like two minutes ago, and we don’t want people thinking you’re the rebound.”

It’s surprisingly easy to forget, when Kane and I are hiding in Golden Cove, that our relationship will never be just ours.

Once the world knows about us, people will make our business their own. The media will surely make up all sorts of ridiculous rumors and scandalous headlines.

There’s also the issue of whether I even want to be famous—even if just by association. I always dreamed that I’d get recognized for my art one day. Not once did it cross my mind that people would know my name because of a guy.

I guess… what scares me the most isn’t being known as “Kane Wilder’s girlfriend.”

It’s losing my identity in the process.

* * *

We show up to the bonfire two hours late.

Blame it on the tequila shots and Jamie insisting that we play a drinking game before heading out to meet the guys.

I check the group chat as Shay, aka our designated driver, parks Jamie’s car into the beach house driveway.

Ozzy Bear

Who the hell changed my name in the chat???

I snort at Scar’s message.

Did I mention we had some fun renaming the guys between rounds of Drunk Jenga?

Ozzy Bear

How do I change it back?!

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