Page 63 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

Good Lord, this shit is awkward.

Things have been weird as hell since Drea and Scar shagged in my bunk on the last day of my European tour.

I’m not judging. I’ve done despicable things on that tour bus, but walking in on my drummer plowing into my publicist from behind sure made me pause.

These two have been at each other’s throats for five years now, and it never occurred to me that maybe their constant bickering was because they wanted to fuck each other.

“I’m Drea, by the way.” Drea turns to Hadley once they’ve settled around the table. “Kane’s publicist.”

Hadley flashes a bright smile. “Hadley. Nice to meet you.”

I plop down next to Scar, who’s still avoiding eye contact with everyone. Hadley directs her attention to him, waiting for some sort of introduction.

I elbow him under the table, and he snaps back to reality. “Right, sorry. I’m Scar. Short for Oscar. I’m Kane’s drummer.”

“Hadley,” she introduces herself again.

I almost laugh.

Scar knows who she is.

And he doesn’t just know her.

He knows everything about her.

My mom stops in front of the table and hands Hadley and Drea their breakfasts before walking back to the stove to make me and Scar some eggs.

She comes back with our food a few minutes later, snatching the last free spot on the bench. “You didn’t have to wait for me. Come on, dig in.”

Everyone does.

Except for me.

All I can do is stare at Hadley.

She notices right away, obviously uncomfortable.

Like a shot of courage just tore through her body, she looks up and returns my stare.

She pins me with a look that screams “What’s your deal?”, defiance gleaming in her blue eyes, and holy hell, the confrontational side of her does something for me.

She’s different than I remember.

Confident in a “do no harm, but take no shit” kind of way.

When it becomes clear that I’m not going to back down first, she peels her eyes off me and turns to my mom. “Evie, do you happen to know where my mom is? I couldn’t find her this morning.”

“She told me last night she wanted to go for a morning walk on the beach. She should be back soon.”

Hadley answers with a small nod.

My mom realizes something’s wrong not even five minutes later. “Where’s your sober sponsor?”

She glances around the kitchen as though she expects Tori to materialize in the doorway.

I shrug. “Gone. I fired her this morning.”

3, 2, 1.