Page 34 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

The sender is Kane.

I can’t believe he texted me.

I was sure he’d never want to talk to me again.

Kane

Meet me in the shed in five.

My heart drops.

He sent me that message over ten minutes ago.

But that’s not the only message he sent.

Kane

Please don’t be asleep.

Kane

I really need to see you.

Kane

Fuck, Hadley. You have to wake up.

I climb out of bed so fast I nearly fall.

I don’t waste a second, throwing on a large hoodie and slipping out of my shorts. I stuff my legs into a pair of leggings before checking myself in the mirror.

My hair is a mess from sleeping like the dead, and I pull it up into one of my signature ponytails, leaving out two strands to frame my face.

Then I tiptoe out of my bedroom and down the stairs, texting Kane as I do.

Hadley

I just saw your texts. I’m on my way.

I can hear my pulse racing in my ears as I step out of the house through the back door and book it to the shed.

The air seems to be thinning with each step I take, and I give myself a solid pep talk before swinging the shed door open.

I notice the Christmas lights on the wall are turned off from the moment I walk inside.

That’s when I see him.

And tears immediately flood my eyes.

I blink a few times to restore my vision and drink in every inch of him.

He’s standing there, in the middle of the dark shed, with his black guitar in his hands and his guitar strap looped around his shoulder.

There’s an old projector placed on a table on his right and a white sheet hanging on the wall behind him.

“What’s all this?” I close the door.

Kane’s mouth curves into a smile, his hair covering part of his green eyes. “I owe you a song, don’t I?”