Page 87 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

“Do you want to be with me?” Cal’s voice comes out as a rasp.

My eyes widen as he swims toward me, his curls soaked and pasted to his forehead. He stops inches away from me, propping his arm on the structure of the pool.

I glance around the backyard, as if to check if someone other than me is seeing this, and my gaze lands on Scar, Jamie, and Vince. Scar is sitting on a lounger, scrolling on his phone, while Jamie and Vince talk shit in the pool.

I whisk my head toward Kane and Drea, chilling by the firepit. I take that back. Drea is chilling.

Kane is not.

His body is tense, his jaw tight as he stares invisible bullets at something in the distance.

He looks beyond intimidating like this—shirtless, powerful, untouchable. A strand of brown hair falls in front of his green eyes, and his fists are clenched so tight his rings are probably cutting off the blood flow in his hands.

He’s been in a mood all night, sure, but we’re past that now.

Now, he looks furious.

And then it hits me.

He’s glaring at us.

“Hadley?” Cal brings me back.

“Sorry, what?”

He flashes a gorgeous smile. “I said, do you want to be with me? On my team, I mean? The guys want to play floating beer pong.”

I clear my throat. “Oh, um, sure.”

He inches closer, our breaths mingling as he stares at my mouth. “Maybe afterward, we could—”

“Cannonball!” I see Scar running from the corner of my eye but only realize what’s happening when he throws himself into the pool right next to us.

His body meets the water with a loud splash, and Cal and I back away from each other to avoid the worst of the spatter.

Looks like now wasn’t a good time to be gaping at Cal because water gets in my mouth and nose, sending me into a coughing fit.

Cal goes off on Scar as soon as he resurfaces. “Dude, what the fuck? You couldn’t do that shit on the other side of the pool?”

Scar shrugs. “Sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Cal diverts his focus over to me.

I can’t even reply, coughing my lungs out.

He tries to move closer to me, but I step back, gesturing to give me a second. Everyone asks me if I’m okay at least once before I manage to breathe properly again.

Once I’m done choking, I excuse myself, getting out of the pool. I grab my shorts off one of the loungers and beeline toward the house to get myself a glass of water that’s not ninety-eight percent chlorine.

I end up stopping by the bathroom afterward and take the opportunity to dry myself and put my shorts on before I freeze to death.

Damn it, I forgot my shirt in my bag.

I make sure to grab one of the canned peach-lemonade seltzers I brought out of the fridge before I head back outside, but what I see when I turn the corner drills me into place.

Kane and Scar are talking by the foyer, the loud music emanating from the backyard making the walls shake.

Then Kane slips Scar some money.