Page 171 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

Cal’s bloodshot eyes land on me, and he tumbles closer to Kane, letting out a slurred “I’m just glad Gray’s not here to see what a fucking slut his sister’s become.”

A succession of gasps ricochets around the beach.

And Kane decks Cal in the face so hard I hear something crack.

At first, I think Kane broke Cal’s nose, but then I realize…

That noise came from Kane’s hand.

He was still wearing his rings when he threw that punch, and his fingers absorbed a good portion of the blow. I don’t know if he fractured his hand or if it’s just bruised, but that sounded painful as hell.

Jamie drops to her knees next to her brother. Cal’s lower lip is busted, blood pouring from his mouth and staining his front teeth. Jamie’s eyes flick to mine, and guilt crashes into me like a semitruck.

This is not how I wanted our last night together to go.

“I’m so sorr—” I don’t get a chance to properly apologize before Kane traps my hand in his and drags me away from the bonfire. He doesn’t stop until our friends are all but tiny dots in the distance.

“What the hell are you doing?” I call as we’re charging up the wooden stairs leading to the beach house.

He’s fuming, his jaw and shoulders noticeably tight. It’s as though he’s in some sort of anger trance. Not even two seconds after we’ve reached the top, he makes a beeline for the pool house.

The next thing I know, he’s shoved me inside and followed in after me.

I assess my surroundings. It’s been ages since I was in here. The lights are out, but the space is just bright enough for me to discern two changing rooms, a shower, and a seating area that transforms into a storage bench for pooling equipment. The place is surprisingly big, considering how small it looks from the outside.

“You didn’t deny it,” Kane damn near growls at me the second he slams the door.

“Are you okay?” I reach for his hand, needing to see the damage for myself, but he doesn’t let me inspect his injury.

He flings his arm out of my reach, making it clear that his busted knuckles are the least of his concerns. “He said you were single, and you didn’t fucking deny it.”

My worry morphs into annoyance. “You’re one to talk. You looked right through me earlier. Not very boyfriendly of you.”

He inhales a sharp breath through his nose.

“You’re right, I fucked up. But me fucking up doesn’t mean we’re not together. We are. We’ve been together, and we’re going to fucking stay together. You should know that by now.”

My heart flutters at the confirmation.

“How the hell was I supposed to? We haven’t had the conversation yet. For all I knew, we weren’t exclusive.”

He lets out a dark chuckle, the sound traveling to my core and covering my forearms with goose bumps.

He cocks an eyebrow. “We weren’t exclusive?”

I open my mouth to answer, but my body being pushed against the wall behind me drains the air from my lungs.

Kane anchors me into place, staring me dead in the eyes as he says, “What part of me punching Cal in the fucking face says not exclusive to you?”

I start to talk back, but Kane doesn’t allow it, crushing his lips to mine without a moment’s hesitation.

“What part of me begging on my fucking knees when you weren’t texting me back says we’re not together?”

One of his hands comes up to wrap around my throat, the other diving into my hair and drawing me in for another kiss. A fierce fusion of fire and electricity ignites between our joined lips, and I grip his shirt like he’s a lifeline and my only chance at staying afloat.

“Every part of you is mine, Hadley Queen. Every. Last. Part.”

I let out a yelp when he spins me around like a rag doll, the front of my body hitting the wall with a thud. Kane’s chest comes flush with my back, his growing cock prodding my ass.

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