Page 212 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

I just know I would have spent my entire life loving this man.

I would have stuck by him through thick and thin, held his hand when he was hurting. I never would’ve left his side. And that’s what makes this whole thing so fucking hard.

I feel like I was robbed of true love, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to get over what could’ve been.

My shower is quick and mainly consists of me trying not to cry out all the water in my body. I’m drying myself with a clean towel by the time I discern what sounds like loud banging on the door of our dorm.

“Maggie, can you get that?” I call as I’m running my fingers through my wet hair.

“On it!” she answers.

A few seconds elapse.

Then the loudest scream I’ve ever heard travels through my dorm.

Maggie’s scream propels me into action. I don’t even bother getting dressed, throwing on a long bathrobe and rushing out of the bathroom so quickly I almost slip on the water on the floor.

“What’s going on?” I shriek, turning the corner and meeting my roommate by the front door.

That’s when I see him.

And I understand why Maggie lost her shit.

“That’s… it’s… he’s…” Maggie points to the hooded figure standing in the hallway.

I know exactly who I’m looking at, regardless of the fact that he’s wearing shades.

He takes his glasses off the second he sees me, his green eyes sucking the air from my body.

“K-Kane Wilder.” Maggie glances back at me, as if to make sure I’m seeing the same thing she is. “That’s Kane Wilder.”

Well…

Guess the cat is out of the bag.

Maggie starts hyperventilating, fanning herself as if she thinks that’s going to help her get a grip.

Kane doesn’t even bat an eye at my roommate’s fangirl moment, pinning me with a look so full of desperation and pain it makes me weak in the knees.

“I need to talk to you.” His rasp punctures through the walls I built around my heart.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” I erupt, taking in his creepy attire.

He looks like your typical drug dealer, with his hunched shoulders, black hoodie, and black sunglasses—let me tell you, that disguise is not doing much to hide his identity.

But that’s not even the worst part.

He’s alone.

Where the fuck is his security?

Whispers and gasps can be heard outside of our dorm, and I pop my head into the hallway, immediately spotting the group of girls staring at us from afar.

I understand just how bad the situation really is when one of them pulls out her phone and snaps a handful of pictures.

Shit.

“Get in here.” I grip Kane’s bicep, dragging him inside my dorm and slamming the door.

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