Page 86 of P.S. I'm Still Yours
He cuts me off. “I said, it’s not fucking worth it.”
Well, damn.
“Excuse me for asking. Jeez.”
My response makes him pause, and he inhales a sharp breath, turning to face me. “Sorry… it’s just… I’m on edge. The more people know I’m in town, the more chances the media will find out and hunt my ass down. I’m not risking it, NDA or not.”
As much as I dislike the way he expressed himself, I get why he’s scared right now.
He probably feels like the whole world’s out to get him, and he’s already playing with fire by leaving the house and having a somewhat normal life.
He’s supposed to be lying low, not partying with his friends, and I can’t blame him for having his guard up. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him talk to me like that for the next two months. I’m only giving him a pass because he apologized.
If I’m being honest, I’m surprised Evie even allowed him to come to the party. I’m guessing Drea and Scar tagging along to watch him played a big part in her decision.
The front door opens a heartbeat later, and Rejean, the Parks’ longtime butler, stands on the other side.
I can’t believe Vince turned out the way he did, considering his upbringing. He’s this chill surfer guy with neck tattoos and a taste for adventure, but he grew up in a house with a fucking butler.
“You must be Mr. Park’s guests. He and Mr. Torres are waiting for you in the backyard.” Rejean gestures to come inside.
I don’t know if he’s just pretending not to remember us or if he’s just getting old and officially at that point where he starts to forget his own address.
I could see him faking his amnesia as payback. He always hated us. And with good reason. The guys used to make his job a living hell every time we hung out at Vince’s place as kids.
We’ve just stepped foot inside the house when Kane turns to Drea and gestures to Rejean with a flick of his chin. Drea seems to understand what that means because she nods.
Drea shoves her hand into the beach bag she brought with her, pulls out a stack of paper, and makes her way over to Rejean. “Do you know what an NDA is?”
I bite back a scoff.
Just another day in the life of a superstar.
* * *
I was convinced I wouldn’t have fun tonight.
I told myself there was no way I’d be able to truly unwind in Kane’s presence.
Until shot number four, that is.
Shot number four fixed all of my problems—or, at the very least, put them on pause.
The five rounds of flip cup beforehand might’ve also contributed to my newfound I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck attitude.
We’re all pretty much gone by now. Well, except for Kane and Drea. Kane’s been drinking water, while Drea’s sipping on a mocktail she must not like very much, considering she’s been at it for four hours.
It’s clear that she takes her job very seriously, and she’s not here to enjoy herself but to make sure Kane doesn’t do anything stupid. As opposed to Scar, who’s had too many drinks to count. He and the guys hit it off immediately.
I can tell it’s pissing off Kane.
He probably wants nothing more than to say fuck it and join in on the fun. I was worried that we were being insensitive drinking in front of him, but Drea told me she’d warned him several times that tonight might be triggering for him, and he still insisted on coming.
My guilt faded away just as quickly as my sobriety did. The next thing I knew, I was hitting on Cal.
We’ve been flirting all night. I wasn’t sure how I felt about his seductive smiles and glances at first—being friends with his sister and all—but then I remembered Jamie gave me her blessing.
Plus, I promised Maggie I’d put myself out there this summer.