Page 50 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

Just this morning, I thought I was going to spend the summer in my mom’s new condo, swiping on dating apps and focusing on my art whenever I’m not at work, and now?

I’m back in Golden Cove.

Forced to share a house with a Grammy-winning, controversial superstar. The words Mom said earlier pop into my head as I swing my door open.

I think this could be a great opportunity to fix your relationship.

What she doesn’t understand is that there’s no relationship left to fix.

Kane Wilder is nothing but a book I didn’t finish. A story collecting dust on my bookshelf. He’s a chapter I’ve long since erased from my memory.

And if he’s stupid enough to hold his breath for a second chance…?

You best believe I’m going to let that boy suffocate.

* * *

Three consecutive knocks jolt me awake.

What the…

My senses spill back in one by one.

I groan and flip onto my back. “Maggie, could you get the door?”

The loud thumping doesn’t stop.

And Maggie doesn’t answer.

“Maggie?” I call again.

That’s when I remember.

Maggie’s not answering me because I’m not at the dorms anymore. I’m in Golden Cove for the summer. I sit up straight, rub my eyes, and glance around my bedroom.

How long have I been asleep?

I listen for another knock. It comes straightaway.

I drag myself out of bed with a yawn. Must be my mom coming to tell me the food is here. I can’t explain the anxiety stirring in my chest as I rest my hand on the knob.

My breathing stalls when I open the door…

…and come face-to-face with a blast from the past.

HADLEY

I blink repeatedly, as if to make sure my half-asleep brain isn’t deceiving me. “Jamie?”

An infectious smile curls on her face. “Bitch, how could you not tell me you were back?”

I’ve missed many things about the beach house in the past five years—lazy afternoons on the beach, skipping stones at the docks with the guys, eating double my body weight in pizza at Sandy’s—but nothing more than I’ve missed Jamie Torres.

I pull her into my arms. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even know I was coming back until a few hours ago. How did you find out I was…” I withdraw from the hug, giving her a once-over. “What are you wearing?”

This isn’t the right question.

The right question would’ve been, why are you wearing a uniform from Sandy’s? I’d recognize that salmon-pink, short-sleeved button-up shirt anywhere.