Defending Donovan

by Jillian Quinn

  Chapter Seventeen

  Taylor

  After the fight with Jackie and the tongue-lashing we got from Coach Vaughn after the game, I couldn’t wait to get out of town. I needed a vacation from Strickland University.

  Drake had asked me to come to his game against Boston College. His family is supposed to be there for the occasion. I promised I would come, and when Bex begged me to drive with her to see Preston play, I couldn’t say no to either of them.

  I hate driving. It’s not something I did often when I lived in California. Since coming to Philly, I haven’t had much need for a car, though my dad insisted I have one for emergencies. So, we’re riding in the Honda Civic he bought me for my high school graduation. It’s a decent car that manages to get me from point A to B when necessary.

  My driving skills are beyond rusty, which is clear by my shoddy driving, but Bex forced me to take the helm. She has a license but refuses to drive. I don’t know what her deal is when it comes to navigating the open road.

  “You look like you’re going to have a nervous breakdown.” Bex shifts in her seat and shoves her hand into the half-eaten bag of Cheetos. “Chill out, Tay.”

  I shoot her a wicked look. “Are you serious, little miss I’m afraid to drive?”

  She chuckles and then pops another cheesy snack into her mouth, speaking between bites. “It’s not that I’m afraid to drive. I just don’t like it. There’s a big difference.”

  “I can pull over and let you take over if my driving bothers you.”

  She waves her hand at me. “Nope, I’m good over here. I have my road snacks and plenty of soda to get me through the rest of the trip.”

  A beat passes between us with nothing more than the dull hum of the radio filling the void. So, I take this as an opportunity to let her know what to expect once we arrive in Boston.

  “We’re sitting with Drake’s parents and his sister. You okay with watching the game with them? I know how particular you are when it comes to your seating arrangements.”

  Rolling her eyes, she snorts. “I don’t care where we sit as long as I get to watch Preston play.”

  “He’s going to be mad when he sees you.”

  She holds up her hands, palms out, and shrugs. “He’ll have to deal with it. I want to show Preston that Kellan is in my past, and that I’m ready to move forward with him. He’s so obsessed with what Kellan did to me. I made him promise not to seek revenge. But who knows if Preston will keep that promise. He never does anything he’s told.”

  “I’m sure he’ll get at least a few good shots on him for you.” Clutching the wheel tight, my fingers hurt as I weave from the right to the left lane on the highway. “He’s so protective of you. And he’s a hockey player. They’re so aggressive and angry. Let him take some of it out on the boy who tried to ruin your life.”

  She lets out an exaggerated sigh, her eyes on the cars passing us by out the window. “Yeah, I guess. I’m doing this for me more than anyone. I need to see Kellan one last time to prove to myself that I haven’t let him win. Watching Preston play is only an added bonus.”

  “That’s the spirit.” I tap my fingers on the steering wheel with a triumphant smile.

  I’m happy for Bex. She’s lived for years in constant torment over Kellan’s betrayal of her trust back in high school. It still shocks me that she gave Preston a chance. Like me, Bex had left her heart so guarded no one could ever get in.

  I know firsthand how hard it is to allow a cocky player into my life. Men like Drake and Preston aren’t what most would consider boyfriend material. And yet, they somehow have transformed their bad-boy ways. Maybe some men just need a strong woman to tame them.

  The next afternoon, I stroll into the freezing-ass cold rink with Bex wrapped in several layers of clothing in an attempt to keep warm. We find our seats behind the Strickland Senators bench. I expect to see Drake’s parents and his sister waiting for us, but their seats remain vacant. Bex had insisted we come for practice. So, I guess Drake’s family isn’t control freak weirdos like my bestie and will show up on time for the game—like normal people.

  “It’s as cold as a witch’s tit in this place,” I mutter between the chattering of my teeth. A shiver rolls down my spine, the cold leeching into my skin. Zipping my North Face jacket, I shudder again, a chill running through me. “How can you be so comfortable in here?”

  No matter how many times I sit with Bex at Drake’s games, I still can’t tolerate the cold weather. I prefer the sun on my face and the heat of Southern California.

  “I’m used to it,” Bex confesses.

  “I don’t think I could ever adapt to freezing my ass off. I prefer sunshine and margaritas by the pool.”

  “That’s because you grew up in California. If you were raised in Philly, you’d be used to the cold.”

  “Technically, I didn’t grow up there. It’s just where I’ve lived the longest. Cold weather isn’t my jam, babe. Even after spending the last four winters in Philly, I’m still not used to it.”

  “You got your early acceptance letter to UC Berkeley. You’ll be back to warmer climates in no time.”

  I frown at the thought of a single year of school without Bex to keep me company. “I’m gonna miss you next year.”

  Her expression turns grim, her sadness mirroring mine. “I’ll miss you, too, Tay. But we have to grow up and become adults.”

  “I am an adult,” I counter. “But not like a real adult. I just look like one.”

  She tilts her head back and chuckles. “I don’t want things to change.”

  “Me, either.” I tap her on the arm and nod in the direction of the players as they skate onto the ice. “Maybe you’ll end up with Preston in whatever city selects him.”

  She smiles, a dreamy look in her blue eyes. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  I wiggle my eyebrows in a joking manner. “You could be a hockey wife. That would be fun.”

  “I can’t follow him around from city to city. If I rely on a man for everything, I won’t have anything if he walks away. I’m not saying Preston will leave me, but anything can happen. I have to at least get my foot in the door at a sports management agency or do something sports related. Otherwise, my four years of college will be a complete waste.”

  Before she finishes, I spot Preston skating toward us. He stops inches away from us, his gloved hand pressed to the Plexiglas. His lips part in shock, surprised to see Bex in the stands.

  “You have a very hunky admirer waiting for you to notice him.” I point at the glass where Preston is standing.

  Bex flashes a smile and waves with a cheeky expression on her face. I thought Preston would be pissed that she defied his wishes. Instead, he looks thrilled to see her. He tilts his head to the side gesturing for her to meet him where the players exit the ice.

  “I’ll be right back,” she says to me.

  I sink into my chair and hug myself for warmth, burying my face in my scarf. Bex chats with Preston and her dad for a while, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a row of empty seats. My gaze falls to Drake. He’s so big he hulks over everyone on the ice. His body covers the net like a shield.

  His teammates take practice shots on him, and as usual, Drake’s movements are flawless. For such a big guy, he has so much grace on the ice. He looks just as comfortable in a pair of skates as he does on his feet.

  I’m busy fantasizing about Drake, too preoccupied with my dirty thoughts to notice I have company until they’re standing over me. I glance up to find a beautiful raven-haired woman with icy-blue eyes hovering above me. She’s gorgeous for someone her age, her skin without a single crease or wrinkle. It takes me a few seconds to recall how I know her. I’ve seen her picture dozens of times on the backs of her book covers.

  “Mrs. Donovan, right?” I stand up to allow her to pass by to take the seat next to me.

  She cups my shoulder with a firm grip and laughs. “Oh, honey, you must be Taylor. Call me Sydney. Mrs. Donovan makes me sound so old
.”

  Another stunning dark-haired woman is behind her dressed in a white and very elegant winter coat, paired with red gloves and a hat to match the bright shade of her lipstick. Like her mother, I recognize her from her picture. Chloe Donovan is taller than I had expected. She’s eye level with me with the lean build of a model. Her fitted designer jeans mold to her frame as if they were made for her.

  “My mom hates when people call her Mrs. Donovan.” Chloe laughs, and it’s pretty and soft just like her. “She’s so afraid of getting old that she does anything to pretend like she’s still in her twenties.”

  “Age is nothing more than a state of mind,” Sydney says, flicking her long hair over her shoulder. “I can be whatever age I desire.”

  She’s so polished in her expensive jeans and jacket, it’s the perfect combination of casual and classy. There’s a hint of refinement in her tone. Even the way she speaks sounds like money. Drake had mentioned his mother’s family to me over the last few months. His mom comes from a wealthy family. It shows in the way she carries herself. There’s an air of sophistication surrounding her.

  I still can’t believe I’m talking to not one but two famous romance authors. This is so damn crazy. Under normal circumstances, I would feel out of place among women like them, and yet, I feel so at ease right now.

  A very large man trails behind Chloe. He’s so damn tall and muscular, and from one look at him, I can see Drake is a carbon copy of his father. Both of his parents have dark hair and features and those same crystal blue eyes. But it’s clear that Chloe takes after their mom, where Drake is one hundred percent like his dad.

  Carter Donovan introduces himself to me, his hand extended to shake mine. He gives me a warm smile that reminds me so much of Drake, it’s scary. The similarities are apparent, and after reading Sydney’s dirty stories, I know Drake got the monster cock she speaks of in her books from him too. What a weird thought to have at this moment. But I can’t stop thinking about how much they are alike. And apparently, Drake also inherited his father’s love of hockey and skill as a goaltender.

  “Don’t mind my beautiful wife,” he says, his voice so much like Drake’s my mouth hangs open in shock. “She’s a little over-the-top. Don’t let her scare you away.”

  “No one’s scaring her away.” Sydney shoots her husband a knowing look, and his expression softens. “Drakey wouldn’t have asked Taylor to sit with us if he was afraid of me chasing her off.”

  “Mom, don’t call him that around his girlfriend,” Chloe interjects. “You know how much he hates it.”

  Drake has admitted he secretly loves his mom’s nickname for him because she gave it to him. He’s so close with his parents in ways I’ve never connected with mine. My dad wasn’t around a lot, and when he was, he didn’t understand how to deal with a girl. He always treated me like a boy or one of his subordinates. Mom was always kind and there when I needed her, but like me, she also followed my father’s rules.

  “Thanks for letting us sit with you,” I say, tapping Bex’s chair.

  Sydney’s gaze travels to the open seat. “Oh, I thought you were here alone.”

  “I drove up with my friend, Bex. She’s my roommate. We also play on the same basketball team together.”

  “We met Bex at Thanksgiving.”

  I nod. “Yes, I believe so.”

  “Another basketball player,” Sydney says. “Has Drake told you about his Aunt Charlotte? She played basketball in college, too. Now, she’s a sports agent.”

  “I know of Coach,” I say, rubbing my gloved hands together. “She’s a legend.”

  “She was my agent when I played hockey,” Carter says, his tone deep and firm. “She’ll be Drake’s agent, too, when he goes pro. If anyone will make him a star, it’s her.”

  I smile at his words. Drake’s father is so confident he will take his career to the next level. I love how much faith his parents have in him. Drake’s dream is to become a professional hockey player. It’s all he’s ever wanted to be.

  For his sake, I hope that happens. I have no doubt in his talent, though I am realistic. Only a handful of those who want to play actually make it to the NHL. But I’m sure sharing the same last name with a Stanley Cup-winning goalie will help his chances when the Draft comes around.

  Bex appears on my right. When she sees Drake’s family, she raises her hand to wave and says hello. She settles in the chair next to me, and Sydney leans over me to speak to her.

  “We didn’t know you were coming,” Sydney says to Bex with a smile. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “I wasn’t supposed to be here.” Bex chews on her bottom lip, a hint of hesitation in her demeanor. “But I figured why not? It’s my dad’s first year as head coach and Preston’s last season with the team.”

  Not quite the reason she begged me to drive her to Boston, but, okay.

  “So,” Sydney says, tapping her long manicured nails on the armrest between us. “Drake mentioned you read my books… and Chloe’s, too.”

  Heat burns my cheeks. Why am I embarrassed? She’s the one who writes those dirty stories. I’m only the person who reads them.

  “Yes,” I admit. “I’ve read a lot of your books and the series you co-write with Chloe. When I first started talking to Drake, I had no idea you, Sydney Carroway, is his mom. I didn’t make the connection, you know, since your last name is different.”

  “Can I tell you a secret?” She leans in close enough for me to feel her breath on my earlobe. “I only wrote under my real name to piss off my father. He hates my profession. But you know what, I love it. Writing sexy books makes me happy. It’s also kept my love life pretty… shall we say, interesting.”

  “Mom,” Chloe snaps. “You don’t know how to whisper. We can hear every word over here. Please save everyone from hearing another disgusting story about you and Dad.”

  Sydney tilts her head back and laughs. “I don’t tell disgusting stories. I save those for when we write books together.” She clamps her hand down on her daughter’s knee and laughs again.

  Chloe chuckles and shakes her head, a tiny smile crossing her lips. “Don’t embarrass him,” she warns.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” Sydney coos.

  Drake’s mom is a real character. After reading the bio on her website and watching some of her hilarious YouTube videos, I figured she’d be interesting to meet. Drake shared enough with me to provide a clearer picture, but meeting Sydney Carroway in person is a real experience.

  Midway through the game, Sydney touches my arm with her long, red fingernails. She leans in close, her sweet perfume filling my nostrils. “I’d like you to come for Easter dinner. I told Drake to ask you, but in case he forgets, I want to personally invite you.”

  “You have to come,” Chloe, says leaning over to flash a set of bright white teeth. “Jacque makes the best honey glazed ham with sweet potatoes.”

  Confused, I ask, “Who’s Jacque?”

  Chloe chuckles. “Oh, Drake didn’t tell you about our chef? Jacque is amazing.”

  “He mentioned you have one just not by name.”

  “Drake keeps begging Mom to send him to his house to cook for his teammates.”

  “Probably because Shannon stopped cooking for them,” Bex says.

  “Regan mentioned Jamie’s girlfriend,” Sydney says. “Poor thing, little Jamie.”

  I almost laugh at the way she says little Jamie because he’s a big guy, until I remember Jamie is a junior.

  “He really screwed that up,” Bex adds. “What an ass?”

  Sydney looks taken back by Bex’s forwardness, but she brushes off her comments, clearly made aware of the situation by Jamie’s mom. Their families are so close I doubt there’s a single thing they don’t share with each other, their children’s love lives included.

  “So…” Sydney says to me, “… dinner. Will we see you at the house?”

  “Yes. I’d love to come. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “You know�
�” Chloe says, “… you’re Drake’s first real girlfriend since high school.”

  “Yeah, he told me.”

  “He’s a big guy,” Sydney says. “But my Drakey is sensitive. Please be careful with my baby’s heart. Don’t hurt him.”

  “Syd,” Carter says in a tone that sounds threatening. When their eyes meet, I can see Drake’s dad issuing a silent warning to his mom.

  It says stop embarrassing the damn kid.

  “I would never,” I whisper, and Sydney smiles in response.

  His dad leans forward in his seat, gaze set on the game playing out before us. He mutters something under his breath when the Strickland Senators take a shot and miss. Sydney and Chloe go back to talking about books, and I’m pretty sure I hear his mom say the word cock at least once. I laugh to myself thinking about how much she uses it in her books.

  “What is Preston doing?” Bex chews on her bottom lip, speaking so low only I can hear her. “He keeps arguing with Kellan.”

  I was so nervous about making a good impression with Drake’s family that I forgot about the game. Now that the introductions are over with, I can sink into my chair and relax. But Bex’s concern is transferring to me once I take a good look at the ice. Preston and Kellan are in each other’s faces. This goes way beyond two players scrambling for possession of the puck.

  “He promised not to get his revenge,” I say.

  Bex leans forward with her elbows rested on her thighs and cups the sides of her face in her hands. “It looks like Kellan’s the one going after him.”

  “Think of it this way… if you never told Preston about Kellan, he would be really confused right now. And then you would’ve had a lot more explaining to do.”

  “Preston will end up fighting Kellan if he keeps getting in his face.”

  I cup her knee with my gloved hand to offer her support.

  Once the game ends, the crowd erupts into a mixture of boos and cheers. The Strickland Senators win the game, though there are very few people from Strick U in the stands to give them the round of applause they deserve. Drake was amazing. He guarded the net like the wall of man he is, forcing a win in his team’s favor.