We walk to the fields, and the players are already warming up. Several of the guys notice me and stop their warm-ups to talk to their friends. Mason looks in my direction and smiles. He runs over and hugs me. “I’m glad you came.” I hug him back.
“I told you I wouldn’t miss it.”
He smiles when he pulls away. “I have to go, but I’ll see you after the game, okay?”
“Absolutely,” I call after him as he runs back to his team. When he reaches them, he smacks a couple of guys on his team. I snicker at their dumbfounded expressions and follow Drake to where our group is sitting on the bleachers.
~*~
“You won!” I scream and jump at my brother, wrapping my arms around him. He hugs me closer to his sweaty body, but I don’t even care. Sweat is nothing. I’m glad he found something other than fighting that makes him happy.
“Yeah, and it’s because I had my lucky charm with me,” he laughs, putting me back on my feet. I laugh at his comment and notice several of his teammates walking over.
“Good game. Congratulations.” They all thank me. One guy with hair the same color as the dirt streaks on his pants walks up to me and pulls me close.
“Thanks, babe, it was all me,” he practically purrs, and I can feel the heated anger coming off of Drake. I grip his forearm and brush my thumb comfortingly over the exposed skin there, following the pattern of one of the tribal tattoos across the skin.
“Oh?” I ask, faking innocence. I see Mason roll his eyes and hold his hands up to his head, meaning that the guy has an enormous ego. He smirks down at me.
“Oh yeah. You wanna get outta here and drop these losers?” I laugh. I’m about to answer when the guy gets pulled away, and Drake appears in front of me.
“What’d you just say?” He demands, and I smirk. He’s my boyfriend, so I’ll let him have this one. As I said, I like his protective nature.
“Who are you?” The guy asks. He says it like he has the right to the information on who I spend my time with. Who is this kid? I glance at my brother to see him scowling.
Drake grabs the kid by the collar, “I’m her boyfriend, pretty boy, and I suggest you stop trying to pick my girl up,” Drake threatens, and I bite my lip. He’s definitely getting a kiss after this. I smirk when the guy tries to get my attention over Drake’s shoulder. The guy’s face falls when he realizes I won’t help him.
He lifts his hands. “Whatever. She’s not that hot, anyway. Not worth more than a quick screw,” he huffs. Wrong thing to say.
Drake slams his fist into the kid’s face, and I wince. I know firsthand what Drake’s punches feel like, and that looked like it hurt. The kid stumbles back, and this time, Mason punches the kid in the stomach.
“That’s my sister, Greenburg!” He yells as he lands another punch. Feeling like it’s enough, I pull both of my guys off of the kid and push them back a bit.
“Okay, I think he gets it. We need to leave before you guys get in trouble,” I tell them, and they both glare at the Greenburg kid. When I look behind Drake, I see the guys are glaring at the kid too.
~*~
“This is so good!” I moan as I take another bite of my burger. The guys, Kim, Mason, and I decided to grab dinner before heading home. Mason picked the place since it was his win, and I’m so glad.
All the guys agree with groans and slaps to the tabletop that the food is excellent while I continue to stuff fries into my mouth. “Whoa there, Thea, slow down, or you’re gonna choke,” Mason smacks my shoulder, but I just stick my tongue out at him.
I’m sitting between my brother and Drake, who’s still silently seething about the Greenburg kid. On the other side of the table, Kim is sitting by Chase. Alec is to the right of Chase, and Ross is beside Kim. I finish my food and listen to Mason talk about soccer with the guys but don’t pitch in on the conversation. I just savor the feeling of being with them.
As Mason talks, his expression is content, and that’s all I ever wanted him to be- happy. I know that he’s not as comfortable as he could be if we were together and away from the step-monsters, but at least he’s not miserable.
“You ready to go?” Drake asks, and I pout.
“I guess,” I mumble, standing. We all clean off our table and make our way outside. Mason follows us to Drake’s bike, and I give him a small smile. “See you soon?”
Mason smiles, “Of course. We’re family. Nothing can keep me from you; not a foster home, not Alisha, not even distance. I’d travel the world to see you. I promise that we’ll see each other soon.” He pulls me into a hug. He gives wonderful hugs, nice and warm, and full of love.
“Love you,” I whisper.
“I love you too,” he kisses my forehead. When we part, I climb onto the bike behind Drake. Between the game and dinner, I got some good family time today. Hopefully, there’ll be more soon, like he said.
Chapter 19
Athena
Finally, school is out for the weekend. Since Wednesday, I haven’t seen Mason, but he called me last night to tell me he has another soccer game coming up on Monday. I’d immediately gotten excited to see him play again. He was always there watching me fight, so now I get to return the favor with his games.
When I stop by Drake’s bike, arms wrap around my waist from behind. From the way he nuzzles his face into my neck, I know it’s Drake. I sigh in content and lean back into him. This is nice.
“I have somewhere to take you tonight,” he says, his warm breath hitting my neck.
“Oh?” I hum, “And where would that be?” I turn in his arms, press a quick kiss to his lips, and rest my chin on his chest to look up at him. Smiling, he shakes his head.
“It’s a surprise. The only thing I’ll tell you is that it’s a formal event,” Drake answers, and I nod. Formal, like a dress or something? I don’t usually wear formal clothes. I might have something, but I’ll have to search for something to wear.
“Okay, but it better not be something crazy.” His only reply is to laugh. He may think it’s funny, but I’m not kidding. No offense to him, but he doesn’t exactly seem like the formal event kind of guy.
A short drive later, we pull into the driveway. Alisha, funnily enough, is taking out the trash. Ever since my revelation of my true self, Alisha has tried and failed to get me to clean. Now, she’s doing it herself.
I hop off Drake’s bike and pull the extra helmet off, “What’s your favorite color?” I randomly ask, and Drake thinks about it for a second. He pulls his helmet off and sets it on his lap, his eyes finding mine.
“Black, but I also like dark blue… navy, I guess,” he answers. I smile. We both like blue.
“Okay, see you at…?” I’m still extremely curious about this event he’s taking me to.
“Six, and we’ll be going in the car since you’ll be wearing a dress,” he says, not so subtly hinting that he wants me in a dress. He just wants to know what it looks like when I dress up, I bet. I smile.
With a wave, I head inside to get ready. Several questions fly through my mind. What am I going to wear? What are we doing? How formal is formal? Why are we going to something formal? I don’t care what everyone else thinks, but I do care what Drake thinks.
So, it’s 3:33 now. That gives me less than three hours to get ready. I need to shower, do my makeup, hair, and get an outfit together- not necessarily in that order. I can do this. I have to do this. Disappointing Drake isn’t an option.
First, I turn my music on, hitting shuffle on my ‘favorites’ playlist. Then, I jump in the shower. The warm water washes over me, relaxing my nerves. I use all the vanilla-scented soaps to run through the motions quickly, washing my hair, body, and shaving.
Once I’m done, I turn the water off and hop out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around myself, I quickly blow dry my hair. Since I have thick, wavy, almost curly hair, it takes a little while, but finally, I head out of my bathroom.
I only have a few dresses I consider formal, and to wear them, I know I need the dreade
d strapless bra, so I hurry to my dresser and pull out my underwear and slip into them.
Jake Miller’s song ‘Good Things’ starts playing, and I smile. I love this song.
My phone says that it’s 4:28, so now I only have an hour and a half until Drake comes to get me. I dance over to my closet. “What to wear?” I mumble to myself as I sway to the beat and sift through my clothes.
Keeping Drake’s favorite colors in mind, I pull out multiple blue pieces and look at them. There’s a blue dress, a blue skirt, and a blue skirt and top combo. I choose the high-waisted, floor-length pleated blue leather skirt, and I look through different tops. My eyes scan the different colors and pick black. His other favorite color.
Now, I need to find the right top. I skip over a thick long sleeve top then a strappy crop top. Not formal enough, I think to myself.
I continue looking and finally find a beautiful crop top with off-the-shoulder sleeves and lace covering the black material. Paired with the skirt I chose, it’ll be the perfect mixture of elegant, formal, and me.
I peer at my phone again to see it’s five now. I only have an hour.
Rushing to my bathroom, I work on my makeup. I go with my usual silver smokey eye and then apply my eyeliner lightly, then brush on my mascara. I settle on a light, almost nude lipstick and keep my nails painted black.
I go back into my room and slip my top on now, so I don’t mess my hair up when I get done with it. I zip up the back of the top and head back to the bathroom. All this back and forth makes me wish I had everything in the same room, but then everything would clutter together, so I change my mind. Having a bathroom separate from my room is for the best.
Observing myself in the mirror, I twist and pin my hair into a flattering up-do, pulling a few pieces out to frame my face. I take out my hairspray, misting the spray over my up-do. Hopefully, it holds for whatever we’re doing. Just for good measure, I spray a bit more over my hair.
The silvery strands shine and bring out the light in my eyes. Or maybe it’s Drake who brings that light out.
My ten-minute warning timer goes off. 5:50.
In a rush, I move back to my bed and slip on the long blue skirt. There’s a strip of stomach showing between the crop top and skirt, but whatever. Scurrying to my closet, I pull out my only pair of black heels then take a seat on the edge of my bed because come on, who can quickly put on a pair of heels while standing up? I slide them on and buckle them in place.
Let’s be real. I don’t want my shoes to fall off. Nobody would. And like I said before, I’m not Cinderella.
Lastly, I pick my jewelry. I put on my ‘A’ necklace that my parents bought me, and I slip on my black leather and diamond bracelet. Done.
With a last glance in the mirror, I smile. Not to brag, but I look good. A beep from my phone makes me look away.
Drake: Ready? I’m headed over.
Me: Don’t knock. Alisha’s here.
“Wow, you actually look kind of pretty,” a nasally voice says, and I turn around to see Lexi and Lucas. Lexi stares at me with contempt, and Lucas looks at me with desire. I glare at him. I feel his eyes like slimy hands over my body. Gross.
“Keep your eyes off of me, Lucas, and Lexi, leave me alone,” I growl, turning around before walking away. I make it all the way to the door with no one else saying anything. Thank God.
When I open the door, Drake is standing right there, running his lovely blue eyes over me. Within a split second, his eyes widen, and his jaw drops. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so shocked, which makes me giggle. When Lucas looked at my body, I felt disgusted. But Drake… he can look all he wants. His eyes are soft and caring as opposed to Lucas, who is slimy and coveting.
My skirt swishes around me and slightly drags on the ground at the back. Drake never takes his eyes off of me, and when I reach him, his arm automatically curls around my waist, “You look gorgeous.” His voice, soft and husky, sends a shiver down my body.
“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself,” I compliment, looking Drake over. He’s wearing a black long sleeve button-up with the sleeves rolled up a few times, revealing the tattoos snaking up his arms. His shirt clings to his muscles very nicely, and he’s wearing black dress pants.
Drake smirks and pulls me closer, “See something you like?” He teases, and now I smirk. I lean up to where my lips are right by his ear and whisper.
“Mmm yeah, you look good enough to eat.”
Drake stills for a second before he swoops down and presses his lips to mine in a short, heated, and somehow still sweet kiss.
“We should probably go,” he murmurs against my lips, and I nod. He opens the passenger door for me, and I slide in. He makes sure my skirt isn’t in the way and closes the door, then he jogs to his side and climbs in.
The drive is silent yet comfortable. I like the silence we share. Drake tangles our fingers, rubs his thumb across my knuckles, and at one point, lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. It sends my stomach into cartwheeling somersaults, something I never experienced before he came into my life.
Again, I want to ask where we’re going, but at the same time, I like the idea of him trying to surprise me. It’s sweet, and he hasn’t been teasing me as some people would. If it were anyone else, I probably wouldn’t like not knowing, but I trust Drake.
After a twenty-minute drive, Drake pulls into the long driveway of a sizeable house. Or should I say mansion? My eyebrows knit together in confusion, and I look at Drake. “Where are we? Whose house is this?”
Nerves coil in my stomach, pushing the previous somersaults away as Drake parks the car and climbs out. He doesn’t answer. I watch as he walks around the front of his car and comes to my door, opening it- such a gentleman.
“This- this is my parent’s house. My mother is having a party, and she asked that I attend,” he says, holding his hand out. He hasn’t spoken of his parents other than telling me he’d text them.
“Wait! Your parents!” I exclaim, “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve dressed better or worn something else!” As he pulls me out of the car by my hand, I grip his hand tightly. Drake chuckles and keeps holding my hand.
“You look beautiful,” he argues, “And I didn’t tell you because my parents aren’t like me; they’re wealthy and well-known. Also, I knew you might now come,” he tells me, pulling me along with him.
“Oh, God. I’m meeting your parents! This isn’t exactly the ideal first date!” I whisper yell, getting more nervous the closer we get to the front doors. Drake stops us in front of the large doors.
“You’ll be amazing, and they’ll love you,” He says, “Would you have wanted me to bring another girl?” He asks, and anger bubbles in me.
“NO, you’re mine,” I growl, which brings a chuckle from him. Then he kisses me.
“I’m all yours, so let’s do this,” he says. I can do this. I’m a confident, strong, and beautiful girl. You can do this, Athena.
As if sensing that I’m done hyping myself up, Drake pushes the grand doors open. I almost choke on nothing. What was I thinking? I don’t know if I can do this.
“Wh-what do your parents do?” I whisper, looking around at the large ballroom space that we walk into. Drake looks down at me, and he looks a little more serious now,
“My parents own Morgan Designs,” he responds, and my mouth falls open. His parents own the most extensive design company in the US; no wonder… Everyone buys clothes and accessories from their company. All of Lexi’s clothes are from that company, and I even have a few outfits from them, too, including the top I’m wearing.
Before I can say or ask anything else, a dark-haired woman rushes over to us. “Drake, honey, I’m glad you could make it,” she greets with a big smile on her face before hugging him.
When she pulls out of the hug, she looks at me. “Who’s this?” She asks, her voice holding a tone of curiosity. I look up at Drake, not sure if she wants me or him to answer.
“Ma, this is Athena Hale, my g
irlfriend,” he introduces me, emphasizing the word girlfriend.
When he says this, the woman looks me over and finally smiles. “She has wonderful taste,” she compliments, and I blush a little. Of course, she’d recognize her own work. I once read an article that said she’s one of the primary designers, even though she’s one of two owners.
“And she’s exquisite too,” a male voice adds, and I look up to see a dark-haired man now standing beside her. I’m assuming this is Drake’s father. He smiles at me and holds his hand out, “I’m Andrew Morgan, and this is my wife, Anissa Morgan.”
Reaching out, I shake his hand with as tight a grip as I could muster, “I’m Athena.”
“Firm grip. I’m assuming by the hair color and the tight grip that you’re this Cinder Wolf fighter my son has told me about,” Andrew concludes, and I pull my hand away with a curt nod. Drake told his parents about me? About my second life? Was he that confident we’d end up together?
With a quick goodbye, Drake’s parents walk to a couple standing a few feet away, and once they’re out of earshot, I smack his arm.
“You told your dad about my fighting?” I scold. He gives me a sheepish look.
“Yeah, he’s been meaning to watch you fight, but you’ve been healing, so he couldn’t,” Drake tells me, and I nod. I get to fight again this week. I’ve healed enough to get back in the ring, and I can’t wait. Sitting around, even if I was recovering, is no fun.
“Well, he can come Tuesday night because that’s my next fight.”
Smiling, I hook my arms in his. “I’ve healed enough,” I tell him, “But let’s not talk about me. Let’s talk about this,” I gesture to the room. I know I said I’m not Cinderella, but this feels like a ball, and Drake feels like a bad-boy prince.
“Okay, what do you want to know?” He asks, and I bite my bottom lip, worrying it between my teeth. I know there’s a reason he hasn’t brought it up before, so I don’t want to push too hard.
Not So Cinderella Page 17