Page 91 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

“No.” I tell her the exact same thing I’ve told her the last eight times she asked.

We got home an hour ago, and I immediately led her to the bathroom. She’s been nonstop vomiting since.

It’s a miracle she managed not to hurl inside Vince’s car on the drive home. Although his driveway might need a good cleaning.

“This is disgusting,” Hadley says, shame dripping from her voice as she claws at the toilet seat, sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor.

I laid a towel down so that she wouldn’t have to sit on the cold tiles, but she’s still shivering like crazy. Probably because she’s only wearing her bikini top and shorts.

I twist her red hair tighter around my fist, holding it out of the way like I’ve been doing for an hour now. “I don’t give a shit.”

Does it smell good? No.

Does it bother me? Not even a little.

“I’m serious. Go. Please,” she pleads. I get that she doesn’t want me to see her like this, but what she doesn’t get is that I’m a stubborn motherfucker, and I have no intention of leaving her alone.

I promised myself I’d stay away, but right now, I want to be there. Even if just for one night. Then I can go back to avoiding her.

The puking eventually stops, and I wait another five minutes just to be sure she’s done.

“Drink.” I drop to my knees next to her and drive the glass of water I got her close to her face.

She waves it away, leaning against the wall behind her and huddling her legs to her chest. “Just leave, Kane. That’s what you’re good at.”

A scoff rips from my throat.

She has no fucking idea how wrong she is about that.

I’m good at many things, but leaving isn’t one of them.

I change the subject. “You need to stay hydrated.”

She ignores me, hugging herself and rubbing her palms up and down her arms.

“Hads?” I press when she doesn’t answer.

“What?” she snaps.

“Drink the fucking water.”

“I’m fine. See? I’m not—” Hiccup. “—I’m not even throwing up anymore. You can go.”

Am I crazy, or are her lips turning blue?

I don’t think twice, rising to my feet and booking it to my room. I come back a few seconds later, a black hoodie in my hand. Hadley’s features twist with exasperation as soon as I walk in. She probably thought she’d finally gotten rid of me.

Too fucking bad I’m not leaving her side.

I hand her the hoodie. “Put it on.”

She refuses to take it. “I don’t want your stupid sweater. I’m not even cold.”

Is she for real?

Her body’s shaking like a fucking leaf, and she expects me to believe that?

I’m done playing nice. “Put the fucking sweater on, or I’ll do it for you.”