Page 115 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

It’s only been a few days since our shameless flirting in the pool. What could’ve possibly caused my feelings to change so fast?

My phone lit up just as our waitress was asking us if we wanted dessert, and the message on my screen knocked the wind out of me.

Unknown Number

Get the cheesecake. I heard it’s killer.

I happened to be sipping on water when I saw the text, and I’m surprised I didn’t choke it out.

My first instinct was to glance around the restaurant, half expecting to see a creep hiding in a bush with binoculars through the window.

That’s when another text came through.

Unknown Number

You look so fucking good when you’re playing detective.

The waitress brought my attention back to her by repeating herself, and I told her I wasn’t feeling dessert. I scanned the restaurant again and typed a quick reply.

Hadley

Whoever you are, stop texting me.

The next message came seconds later.

Unknown Number

You should’ve canceled the date when I told you to.

Unknown Number

This one’s on you, Hads.

No one calls me Hads.

No one but Kane.

Fucker.

Why was he trying to ruin my date?

I ignored his messages and asked the waitress for the check.

I paid for my half before Cal could blink. He protested a little, but I didn’t want him paying the whole thing. Especially considering that I don’t see this going anywhere.

The stars are sparse by the time Cal drops me off at the beach house. I’ve been on edge since Kane’s texts. Even Cal noticed, asking me if everything was okay.

Part of me was expecting to find Kane holed up in a car with tinted windows when we walked out of the restaurant.

Only, there was no trace of him.

It got me thinking that maybe he was never there to begin with.

What better way to ruin my date than to make me think I’m being watched?

For all I know, he was fucking with me and hoping my paranoia would push me to cut the evening short.

I spent most of the drive home crushing my body to the passenger-side door, putting as much distance between Cal and me as I could. The last thing I wanted was for him to try and take my hand or grab my thigh.

---