I look to Van, who immediately pulls me onto his lap and wraps me in his large, strong arms. Rippling muscles engulf me, and I melt into his concrete chest. I feel safe. I feel loved. This is where I’m meant to be.
“I know my truth. I have a completed story,” I say.
“Your story is not complete, Owl. It’s just beginning,” he replies and kisses the top of my head.
Chapter 43: Donovan
April
“Blake!” Rhodes’ voice echoes through my house. What ungodly hour is it? “Let’s roll,” he says as he busts into my room without knocking. “Flight leaves in three hours.”
“It’s still fucking dark,” I murmur and pull my pillow over my eyes.
“You need to get going,” Maisy shoves me in the rib with her tiny hand, as if she can move my 220-pound body. We’ve been together every single minute we could since we got back from California. I understand now what Rhodes meant when he said this feeling is worth it. I’d do everything again over and over if it meant I could feel this way even for a minute.
“Good try,” I chuckle and roll over on top of her and kiss her forehead. God, I love this woman.
“You’re smushing me!” she shouts and tries to push me off of her.
“Good try, pipsqueak.” I laugh and plant a kiss on her forehead.
“For fuck’s sake. Get up, Blake. We gotta go,” Rhodes snaps and slams the door.
Rhodes and I are headed to Houston for the NFL Draft. Last year, we watched as Brooks was chosen number one overall and used the platform to surprise his girlfriend, Kiernan, with a proposal. Maisy and I aren’t there… yet. She’s not coming with because, for one, unlike Kiernan, Maisy doesn’t give a flying fuck about football and two, she needs to go to class. Her grades are not the best considering all the shit that went down over the last several months, and if she’s going to get into law school, yes, law school, she needs to get them up.
Maisy said that after everything that happened, she decided she did in fact want to be a lawyer. But she wants to be a prosecutor, so guys like Emilio don’t walk free just because they can afford it, and to make sure guys like her dad, who did what they did under duress, aren’t excessively punished. She is going to dominate the courtroom one day.
She’s also still making clothes for herself and her friends. I told her I would buy whatever she wants, but sewing is a passion and I would never take that away from her. Plus, she’s really fucking good at it. I sent a few designs to my mom, well to Geoffrey who is a lead designer on my mom’s team, and he loved them. I don’t know if anything will come of it, but Maisy has options. More options than when she moved out here and I’m so fucking proud of her.
We talked about the draft and she wants me to pursue football. It’s my passion. She said the only thing tying her to California anymore is the ocean, so she’s just hoping I get drafted to a state that has water. The thought made me laugh, because now I’ll probably end up getting drafted by Vegas or Arizona.
I jump in the shower, put on my CU Golden Knights travel suit and pull my hair into a man bun, and I’m ready to head out. I can’t believe this happening. I have always dreamed of playing professional football, but never considered it could be a reality.
Once the buzz started last year around this team and heightened during Brooks’ media blitz, my dad started asking questions about my chances of getting drafted. He and my mom actually attended the national championship game last year, which was a surprise, but I think he finally saw that I’m a legit player.
Football had never been on my dad’s radar. For one, he was never around to see me play growing up. And two, my dad’s dream for me has always been for me to work at The Echelon Group. It was always his dream to pass his baby down to me to run so he could retire, and I quote, “spend the days on a fucking boat in Lake Como.”
After everything that happened with the bet, my minor self-destructive phase, the fights, Emilio and the list goes on, I decided I wanted to give it a shot. Taking once-in-a-lifetime opportunities is my new thing. I declared for the draft and performed at the combine just because I could. I didn’t have any idea what I would actually do in the long run. Even though my dad was non-existent growing up, I still didn’t want to disappoint him.
My dad, the mighty George Blake, took time off and drove to Boston at the end of March to discuss my future and meet Maisy. Growing up wealthy has its advantages, but it also makes you very skeptical of people and their motives for wanting to be around you. He was immediately worried that Maisy was after me for my trust fund, or now, so she could be a glamorous NFL wife. He didn’t realize that I had never discussed my financial situation with Maisy. Other than knowing I had a townhouse and a nice truck, she had no clue what she would marry into one day. Not that she would have cared either way. Rich or poor, Maisy loves me for me, purely and deeply.
When he first blew into town, he met Maisy and me for dinner at the very posh Raised Oak restaurant. The restaurant is on the top floor of a hotel, and we sat with an overwhelmingly beautiful and private view of the city.
After an interrogation that rivaled the vetting he does on new business partners, my dad quickly realized that she had zero, and I mean zero, interest in money, and even less interest in football. He fell in love with her, just like I did. Well not exactly like I did, but she won him over, and by the end of the visit he was already talking about buying season tickets for my whole family, including Maisy, to wherever I end up.
My mom was in Paris meeting with some magazine editor who’s supposedly featuring her brand in their June issue. I can’t lie, I was pretty disappointed that she couldn’t be there. She’s missed a lot of important moments throughout my life. When she showed up for the national championship game last year, I was beyond proud.
But that hope faded, and life returned to normal shortly after. I shut myself off to protect my heart from the disappointment of her constant absence, but my feelings returned when Maisy entered my life. I’m not going to go back to the shell of a man that I used to be just because mommy dearest continually broke my heart as a child. I have Maisy to live for now, and that’s more than enough for me.
“What’s up your ass?” I ask Rhodes as we hop into my truck to drive to Logan International Airport. He’s sulking next to me, dressed in the same travel gear. I have no fucking clue what’s up with him.
“Nothing, drop it.”
“You nervous about the draft?” I question. There hasn’t been a ton of hype around Rhodes, but his combine stats were off the charts for running backs. He got hosed a little last year because Brooks was an “air it out” quarterback and was good using his legs. Rhodes didn’t get the ball enough, but when he did, he made the most of it. This year was different – while Jax had an arm, Coach Hayes used Rhodes a lot more. I think he’ll be surprised on draft day.
“No, I don’t give a shit where I end up.”
“Bro, what the actual fuck, talk to me. Remember when you helped me pull my head out of my ass?”
“I do cuz you were gonna die if I didn’t.”
“True, so now, let me help your pull your head out of yours.”
“Stop thinking about my ass,” he says, but I can see a smile creep onto his lips.
“Fine, but don’t get pissed at me,” he continues. I nod. “It’s the same shit as last year. You got the girl this time. Brooks got her last time. I’m still here. Fucking alone. There, I said it like the big pussy I am.”
“Because you want to be in love doesn’t mean you’re a pussy, Rhodesy,” I reply. “It’s what we all want, even if sometimes we don’t know it. I was a dick and didn’t realize what I was missing. You saw it, and someday you’ll get it.”
He shrugs. “I fucking hope so.”
“Tori is a ho-bag who spread her legs for any athlete. You deserve better. She was one step above jersey chaser only because she was an athlete.”
“It’s not about Tori,” he retorts.
“Then what?”
“Nothing, just some shirt on Instagram that got to me,” he says.
“And it’s not about Tori?” She’s been plastered all over Instagram and SnapChat. Pictures of her partying and kissing on random guys.
“No, it’s not Tori. I was a better person before I got to Cambria and now, I’m not.” He sighs and looks back out the window.
“So we got lost in meaningless pussy and blowies. But we always wanted more, right? You’ll get your more. I know it.” It’s a tough subject for him, but I know deep down he will find his true love one day. He’s a good person even if he’s not feeling like it right now. I’ve been there and I got my happy ending, and Rhodes is a better person than I was. He deserves epic love.
✽✽✽
Two days later, Rhodes and I are sitting at a table together in the George R. Brown Convention Center in Houston. We’ve done the media blitz and the interviews and photo ops. We signed the autographs and met fans during meet-and-greets. It’s been a whirlwind.
We haven’t discussed what’s bothering him anymore, but he will come to me when he’s ready.
Normally, players get one table each so they can be joined by their family and friends. Rhodes and I don’t have anyone here, so they let us sit together. My family is busy, like always, and in four years I’ve never even seen Rhodes’ family. He never talks about them, and when we ask he just says they can’t make it. We’ve learned to stop asking.
“I’m so glad you’re my date.” I elevate my voice and flutter my eyelashes. “You’re handsome.” I stroke his cheek in jest with the back of my hand. He immediately slaps it away.
“Get the fuck off me,” he chuckles. His mood has improved, but sitting here alone with only our agents at the table is fucking depressing. My dad has a meeting for a new build in Boston – ironically he’s expanding there after I’ll be moving away – and I don’t think my mom is back from France, but I have no idea.
*Ding*
“It’s Maisy,” I tell Rhodes. “She said she’s excited for us and she’s watching the draft with Roommate.”
“Are you ever gonna call that woman by her actual name?”
“Nope.” I grin.
“You see Bateman yet?” Rhodes asks. Our other roommate is here with his family and girlfriend. They’re at their own full table.
“Yeah, they’re over at like table thirty-something. I guess they think he’ll get drafted early since we’re at table eighty.” I honestly don’t know why we’re here. Neither Rhodes nor I will be first-round picks. Bateman, sure, he has set records and his six-foot, five-inch frame makes team owners cream in their fancy suits.
“As long as I get in,” Rhodes says as if he has something to prove.
The draft begins and picks and trades are being made. Rhodes and I sit silently for the first six picks when a small hand taps me on the shoulder.
“This seat taken?” a sensual voice asks. I’d know that voice anywhere as it cuts straight through my ears and right to my heart and my cock. I jump up and throw my arms around Maisy. She is fucking here! And holy shit she is stunning. She’s wearing a white dress with navy accents. Her golden skin glows against the white. Her midnight hair is pulled into a curled up-do of some kind and it makes her neck look irresistible. She has a subtle hint of makeup, but what gets me in her coconut scent as I inhale deeply with my nose buried into her neck.
“What are you doing here?” I finally ask, after taking her in like she may not really be here.
“We decided we couldn’t miss the biggest day of your life.”
“We?” I ask and glance behind Maisy to see my dad and mom strolling in. As they walk through, everyone stares. They can command a room. I’m looking sharp in my gray suit, white dress shirt and navy designer tie, but my dad in a sleek navy suit, cream colored dress shirt and chocolate designer tie is a showstopper. My mother is a vision in a pearl pant suit with a navy silk undershirt to coordinate with my dad.
“What the hell?” I ask, completely confused.
“We couldn’t miss this, sweetheart,” my mom says as she kisses each of my cheeks. “We better sit.” She motions toward the open chairs and I agree. People are staring.
So, I need to wrap my head around this. I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. We sit and chat quietly while the commissioner of the NFL, Roger Goodell, continues through the draft.
“Did you do this?” I lean in and whisper to Maisy.
“I may have had my people contact the Blake family people,” she replies with a Cheshire grin and a giggle.
“You’re amazing. Thank you for this,” I reply and I can’t fight the gigantic smile on my face. I can’t believe my mom is here. I have no idea how Maisy pulled this off, but this… I just have no words for how happy I am right now.
“Any idea where you guys will go?” my dad asks.
“Honestly, not a clue. Rick, my agent, had several interested teams, but didn’t think any would trade up. Same with Rhodes. They all have other needs. You may have come for nothing. We probably won’t go for a round or two yet… if at all.”
“You’ll go.” Maisy smiles and squeezes my hand, and as if she has bewitching powers, Rhodes’ phone, which is sitting on the table, rings.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper.
“This one is for Jessup,” Scott, Rhodes’ agent says. Rhodes is visibly sweating. “But your time is coming, Blake.”
“Hell yeah, man! Answer that shit!” I practically shout.
“Hello?” Rhodes answers. After a few uh huhs and okays. He says, “Thank you, sir,” and hangs up.
“Well…” I pause, waiting for him to fill in the blank.
“I’m going with the eighteenth pick to Minnesota.”
“Holy. Fucking. Shit. That’s amazing!” I wrap my around his shoulder and shake him, almost violently, because I’m so fucking pumped for him. Everyone else at the table claps softly. He deserves this. “First fucking round. I love you, bro. So pumped for you.”
Rhodes is suspiciously silent.
“And with the eighteenth pick, the Minnesota Vikings select Rowen Jessup Rhodes, running back, Cambria University,” Goodell recites his line and the applause erupts. Vikings fans start chanting “Rhodes Are Open!” followed by clap, clap, clap clap clap, over and over. He’s going to love the land known for being “Minnesota nice,” because despite his questionable sexual escapades, Rhodes has a huge heart, and is a really good dude.
“Rowen?” Maisy asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, what the fuck? I didn’t know his first name wasn’t Jessup. You think you know a guy…” I trail off in thought, because really I don’t know much personal info about Rhodes. He never talks about his home life. All I know is that he was born in Atlanta, has a lot of siblings, sucks balls at Madden, and always is concerned about helping us with our problems, but never really sharing his. It makes me feel like a shit friend now that I think about it.
A few more draft picks tick by, and I’m starting to get hungry. For dinner, not for my number to be called. Rhodes is gone. He and his agent are mingling with the owner and coaches of the Vikings. Maisy looks bored out of her mind, and my mom and dad haven’t stopped talking to each other. It's like they see each other every six months and are finally catching up.
*Ring* My phone rings and it startles all of us, including my agent. “Answer it!” he practically shouts as we all just stare at it like we’ve never see a phone before.
Ho. Lee. Shit.
“Hello?” I answer and I can feel my palms start to sweat and I’m really fucking nervous.
“Hey, Blake, this is Mike Herman from the Los Angeles Rams. Any chance you’d want to join us next season?”
“Uh, for sure! Yes, sir. That would be amazing. Thank you for the opportunity.”
“That’s fantastic. We’re excited to have a bruiser like you join our defense. We’ll iron out the contract stuff soon. Congratulations and welcome to the Rams.”
I hang up and stare at Mais
y. “You’re going home, Owl. I got drafted by the Rams.”
“I don't know what that means, but I’m so happy for you!” she squeals.
“The Rams are in Los Angeles, baby,” I reply with a chuckle and her eyes light up.
“Donovan, that is fantastic!” my mom exclaims.
“Congrats, son!” my dad pats me on the shoulder.
“Blake, first round. We’re gonna get you a helluva deal. The Rams need defense badly. Well done, young man.” Rick offers my hand a shake.
“And with the twenty-ninth pick, the Los Angeles Rams select Donovan Blake, linebacker, Cambria University,” Goodell tells the crowd and the applause erupts. I stand, kiss Maisy on the head, button my coat and walk toward my future.
I never thought as a boy growing up in Manhattan that I’d be in the NFL, or I’d be a collegiate national champion, and that I’d be in love with the most amazing woman, all before graduating college.
Sometimes when we hit rock bottom, it’s exactly where we’re supposed to be in that moment. Maybe the path we were on wasn’t meant to be and it’s God’s, the universe’s, or karma’s way of bringing something special into your life you didn’t think you wanted, but it turns out she’s the only thing you needed.
Epilogue: Maisy
Twelve Years Later
“Kiernan, would you help me inside quickly? I’m going to grab another round of drinks and some snacks for the kiddos,” I ask.
“Sure! No problem,” she replies and flashes Brooks a megawatt smile before kissing him on the cheek and following me inside. After five seasons with the Los Angeles Rams and four seasons with the Carolina Panthers, Van was traded to the New England Patriots, which allowed us to move back to where it all started, and allowed Van to be reunited with his college QB1, Brooks McCarthy, the Patriots’ franchise quarterback.
We are “summering in the Hamptons” with Brooks, his wife, Kiernan, and their children; Kace and Belle.
I never thought I would be a person who owns a summer home, but Van’s Grammy Charlotte left him the Blake family beach house in Bridgehampton. He always said that he was Grammy’s favorite, and it appears that he was right, because by “beach house” I mean a thirty-million-dollar estate right on the water. It’s no surprise that this place is my favorite. Waking up to the ocean every morning is my idea of heaven.
Redemption (Cambria University #2) Page 33
