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Defending Donovan

Page 8

by Jillian Quinn


  “He’s in the kitchen with Jamie and Shannon,” Tucker says.

  “Shannon’s here. Let’s go see what she’s up to,” I say to Bex.

  Shannon is the perfect excuse for me to walk away. I can’t stand seeing Drake acting so fucking cool and unaffected while I’m dying on the inside. This whole encounter is awkward. The blonde bombshell on Drake’s right hasn’t stopped grilling me since I laid eyes on him. Her dress is so short, I swear I can see her ass cheeks.

  Stephanie Carter, the redhead with big tits on his left, hasn’t stopped trying to touch him. I hate her with a passion. She’s one of the biggest whores on campus. I’m surprised she’s not hoeing it up on Greek Row instead. When she drags her fingers down his tattooed arm, I want to punch her in the face.

  Grinding my teeth, I try to suppress my rage. All of my dad’s martial arts training comes to mind. Nope, I will not let her win. She won’t get Drake. Because I know the truth about him, and I can see through all the bullshit. His entire persona is a sham. At the end of the night, he’ll look for me—not Stephanie fucking Carter.

  In Drake’s defense, he’s been wiggling away from her the entire time. He only has eyes for me. I know he does. But fuck me for being a jealous little bitch right now.

  “We’ll see you guys later,” Bex says after a long pause, and then I tug on Bex’s hand to lead her into the kitchen.

  Once inside, she pushes me toward the corner and lowers her voice. “What was that about?”

  I shrug off her concern, barely able to catch my breath. My heart is racing so fast it could jump out of my chest and make a run for it. “Nothing,” I lie.

  “Yeah, right,” she spits back. “You looked like you were going to kill those girls, and I’m sure everyone noticed.”

  “I hate seeing him with other girls,” I admit. “Especially those girls. He’s mine.”

  “Then go claim him, Tay.” She throws her arm out at her side, pointing at the living room. “What are you doing in here with me?”

  “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us.”

  “But you like Drake. Stop being an idiot and go talk to him.”

  “Here, I thought it was my job to give the advice in this relationship,” I quip. She frowns, crossing her arms over her chest, and I continue, “I don’t want a target on my back, Bex. It’s better this way if people don’t know about us. Trust me. And with The Queen fucking with everyone’s life, I don’t want my name in one of her posts.”

  Preston appears out of nowhere with three cups of beer in his hands. “Hey, babe,” he says to Bex, kissing her on her forehead. “Take one of these.” He holds out the drinks to us, which we gladly accept.

  “Thanks, Parker,” I say as Bex cuddles up at his side.

  He nods in acknowledgment.

  They look so damn cute together. I’m glad she’s finally embracing a relationship with him. If only I could be with Drake in a more public setting without everyone looking at us. I hate the fact we have to hide how we feel about each other from the world. But it’s his stupid-ass fault for showing off his goods to anyone who will look. If not for that, I would be standing next to him right now.

  Chugging my beer, I scan the room for Shannon. Bex and Preston are too busy whispering shit in each other’s ear to notice me. And since I can’t latch onto Drake, I might as well seek out our new friend.

  By the time I cross the kitchen, I’m in need another beer. Damn, I drank that in like three gulps. With how fast my heart is beating, I could use a lot of beer. Drake has me so on edge without even speaking to me. And maybe that’s why I’m such a mess.

  He could have at least said something to quell the tension between us. Instead, he stood there like an Adonis giant, peeking at me beneath his long, dark lashes.

  After I refill my cup from the keg, I head over to where Shannon’s hanging out with Jamie and two of her sorority sisters. Killian Kade is on Jade Westbrook’s right, though he seems to be keeping his distance. Something weird is definitely going on between them. I can tell by the tension that hangs in the air like it does with Drake and me.

  “We have to get going,” I hear Killian say to Jamie. He leans into his ear and whispers something. Jamie nods, and then Killian and Jade are moving through the crowd, headed out of the kitchen.

  So, they’re definitely together. Interesting. This is the first time I’ve seen Killian with a girl on campus. He usually keeps to himself and rarely attends parties. Jade is on the quiet side too, so I can see how the two of them would get along.

  As I approach, Jemma Walcott, a new student at Strick U and Shannon’s Little Sister in her sorority, she turns to smile at me.

  “Hey,” I say. “Jemma, right?”

  She nods. “Yeah. I’m Jordan’s sister.”

  Everyone on campus knows Jordan Walcott. She’s the vice president of Kappa Delta, the sorority Shannon and Jemma are both in, and is pretty much the life of every party. I’m surprised to see Jemma here without Jordan.

  “How are you liking Strick U? I bet it’s different from… Where are you guys from?”

  Somewhere with cows? I know their family owns Walcott Dairy. We literally drink the milk her family produces.

  “Lancaster,” she offers. “It’s about two hours from here.”

  “When I lived in Germany, I got to spend the weekend at a farm for a school project. I learned how to milk a cow.”

  “You lived in Germany?” Shannon interjects, her voice reaching a higher octave.

  “My dad was stationed at Panzer Kaserne when I was in middle school. We lived there for a few years.”

  “So, you’re an army brat?” She shifts her hands to her hips and leans closer. “I had no idea.”

  I shake my head. “Nope. Marine Corps. My dad is a retired Colonel. He’s an electrical engineer by trade. Now, he works for Lockheed Martin out in Southern California. That’s where my family lives… for now.”

  I never knew when I would move next. It’s nice to finally have a place to call home. But how long will Calabasas be home for us? It’s hard to say with my dad. He has this constant restlessness that makes me wonder if he’ll one day take a job halfway around the world and expect all of us to move with him.

  “Oh, that’s cool,” Shannon coos.

  Not really. Moving every time you make a new friend or get comfortable at a school is far from fun.

  “I bet you’ve lived in a ton of places,” she adds.

  I nod, not wanting to get into too much detail about the many lives of Taylor Bradshaw.

  “My dad’s company does some contract work with Lockheed,” Jamie chimes, tipping the cup to his mouth. “We also consult with the government on artificial intelligence software. It’s one of my dad’s areas of expertise.”

  “Now that’s cool,” I say, impressed. “Are you guys working on any VR stuff?”

  “VR?” Jemma says, confused.

  “Virtual reality,” I correct. “It’s the hot new thing in tech. Right now, it’s on the expensive side, but once the tech companies figure out how to sell it to consumers at a cheaper price, it will be everywhere.”

  “What she said,” Jamie says with a chuckle. He turns to face me, a bright smile on his handsome face. “Nice to know I’m not the only one around here who’s into tech.”

  I return his gesture and then take another sip of beer.

  Just an observation, but why are all of Drake’s friends hot? Even the nerdy tech guy has it going on. For real, Jamie’s body is ripped with muscle. He has eyes so pretty they look like shards of blue glass. And those long, dark lashes…

  Why do men always have eyelashes women would kill for? It drives me crazy when I have to curl mine to make them look only a fraction as decent as Drake’s.

  “Hey, J,” Preston says from behind me. “Drake needs your help with the music. He says the iPad’s skipping.”

  I was wondering what happened to the music, though it doesn’t matter with how loud everyone is speaking inside the h
ouse.

  Jamie groans in frustration.

  I bet he has to do all of the tech stuff in this house. From what I can tell, the entire place is wired for audio, and even video, judging by how many monitors and screens are on the walls.

  “I’ll be right back,” Jamie says to Shannon, and then rushes into the dining room.

  Less than a minute later, an upbeat rock song blares through the speakers fixed in the corners of the rooms.

  Shannon taps me on the elbow. “Wanna dance?”

  I look over at Jemma, who nods, and then returns the gesture when my eyes meet Shannon’s. Bex stays in the kitchen with Preston. Nothing and no one is going to get her in the living room with sweaty bodies pressed up against hers. Once was enough for Bex. She hates dancing, so not like I expect her to come with us.

  Bex raises her beer as I leave, and I promise to find her in a little while. I’m sure she’ll disappear with Preston by the time I get back. His eyes are lidded, his mouth curving up into one of his sexy smirks as he rakes over Bex’s body. Yep, she won’t be here much longer. Preston, no doubt, has plans to drag Bex up to his bedroom any second.

  Following behind Shannon and Jemma, I search for Drake in the crowded space. There’s no sign of him. A pain shoots up my side as if someone has dug a knife into my kidney. The thought of him doing anything with those girls makes me so angry I could scream.

  Where the fuck is he?

  Trying to play off my irritation, I form a circle with Shannon and Jemma and sway my hips to the music. They’re having fun, letting loose as they throw their hands in the air, while I’m miserable over here. I guess I should have known this wouldn’t work out with Drake. Maybe the virgin thing was a lie after all.

  Somewhat deflated, I pound the rest of my beer, too annoyed to bother keeping pace with the girls. They look like they’re having fun, while I’m only pretending. So, I slip through the living room then dining room and back into the kitchen for another beer. And that’s where I find Drake…

  Stephanie’s on the island countertop in front of him with her legs spread wide. He says something that causes her to laugh. Her voice cuts through me. I want to kill her. Why did I ever agree to this fake relationship with Drake? I can’t do this. I’m not built for all the lies.

  The blonde who was with Stephanie earlier cozies up to Drake’s side, drinking from her cup. She’s so tiny in comparison to him. What could he possibly see in either of them? They’re literally throwing themselves at him.

  He doesn’t even have to work for their attention. It’s pathetic how easy both of them are. Stacy pushes her legs open wider to give him a good look. I bet she’s not wearing underwear, too. She’s known for being that girl, always open for business and down to fuck.

  When Drake glances over his shoulder, I shoot him a dirty look that could cut through steel. A glimmer of panic shoots through his irises for a split second. He even looks like he might come over to explain, but he doesn’t. He pretends our exchange never happened, and then goes back to talking to Little Miss Easy and her Barbie lookalike friend.

  Without giving him another thought, I stomp past them to fill two more cups of beer. Fuck this shit. I’m getting wasted. I never do wild things like this, but I need something, anything, to distract me. My heart aches when I take one last look at Drake. The thought of him touching those girls makes me want to vomit.

  I find Shannon in the living room, grinding on Jamie, who looks like he’s ready to explode. Jemma is at her side dancing with Tucker. Preston and Bex are… who knows where. My guess is upstairs in Preston’s bedroom.

  When someone steps behind and grabs hold of my hips, I close my eyes, swept away by the sensation this stranger’s touch provides. To hell with Drake and those girls. I came here to party, not to dwell on hockey players I can’t even have.

  I chug one beer in a few gulps and then slide the empty cup beneath the full one. Electricity skates across my skin at the strange boy’s touch, and my body trembles hitting every nerve ending all at once. I don’t recognize the guy holding me. Seriously, I don’t even care. If Drake can talk to those girls, then I can dance with this guy.

  After I finish my fourth beer in one hour, my head spins from the mixture of alcohol and the lack of air in the room. I forgot to eat dinner. Go figure. My stomach churns, the chunks rising up the back of my throat. I’ve never been a good drinker, and without having any food in my stomach, I don’t feel so hot.

  Sweat pours off us, our skin glistening under the dim lights. Everyone is grinding against each other, some girls screaming and moving like drunken lunatics. Any thoughts of Drake I push to the back of my mind. I don’t need him ruining my buzz.

  When Shannon looks over at me, she raises her hands in the air, motioning for me to follow along. I mirror her moves and sway my hips back and forth to the music. We dance with each other, caught up in the techno beat cranking out from the speakers as the room begins to spin.

  Oh, fuck. I wish I’d eaten something, anything. A cracker would have been better than nothing. My stomach can’t handle alcohol without an ample amount of carbs beforehand. Last time I felt like shit, Drake drove me to McDonald’s before he…

  Ugh, stop thinking about him.

  The cute boy with hazel eyes and light-brown hair digs his fingers into my side. I’m so out of it that I lean my head on his shoulder to catch my breath. Shockingly, he’s tall enough for me to do this. Most guys are the same height as me if I’m lucky. We stay that way for the next two songs until my mind drifts out of consciousness.

  When I close my eyes, he steps back, and I stumble, breaking my fall on a set of rock-hard abs. I try to escape when I see Drake and his muscular arms wrapped around me.

  “You okay?” Drake whispers in my ear, his voice so deep and smooth it sends a shiver down my arms. “You don’t look so hot.”

  I shake my head. “Thanks a lot, Drakey.”

  Am I a bitch for using his mom’s nickname for him? Maybe. But I’m so mad at him right now, I’m seeing double. Or is that because of the beer that’s clearly gone to my head? Dammit. This is why I don’t drink that often.

  He grits his teeth. “You look like you’re gonna be sick is all I meant. Otherwise, you look fucking hot.” His eyebrow curves up. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” I whisper, allowing his hands to linger on my hips.

  When I don’t stop him, he slides his massive hand up my stomach, covering most of my bare skin. I should tell him to go back to Stephanie, we’re in public after all, but I’m too sick and buzzed to care.

  I like the feeling of his hands pressed against my skin. His usual clean linen and aftershave scent fills my nostrils. Somehow, he affects my hormones every time I smell him. How can you be attracted to someone’s scent? It’s such a weird thing, and yet here I am leaning my head to the side to literally take a whiff of him.

  “Are you mad?” he growls against the shell of my ear.

  “Why would I be mad? You were just about to fuck those two whores.”

  “C’mon, Taylor. You know that’s not true.”

  I stir in his arms, but he pins me against his chest with one hand. “I thought we had an agreement.”

  “I thought we did, too,” I counter.

  “It’s just for appearances,” he challenges. “I didn’t touch either of them. I don’t want anyone but you. The night we spent together…” he sighs, “… it was the best night of my life. I want another one. But I don’t think one more night with you will be enough.”

  My breath catches in my throat. How do I respond? I guess I overreacted. We had a deal that he was following through on. The way he acted with those girls was just for show. I knew that. But still, it didn’t hurt any less.

  “I don’t want to pretend,” I confess. “ I wish we didn’t have to.”

  “Who says we do?”

  Rubbing my backside down the length of his thigh, I peek up at him. I want him so bad every bone in my body aches for him. My core is throbbing from the dar
k look he gives me in response to my dancing. His cock is so big and long I can feel it resting on his thigh. The more I dance for him, I feel him lengthen. Eventually, he’s so hard his cock pokes my ass cheek. Even through his jeans I can feel all of him.

  “Jesus, Taylor,” he says, smacking a kiss on my head. He holds me tight using my body to cover his erection. “I can’t walk around like this, you know. Keep grinding on me like that, and I won’t have any choice but to throw you over my shoulder and take you up to my bedroom.”

  “That was the point,” I quip.

  And with that, his eyes flicker with acknowledgment. Before I know what’s happening, Drake is clutching my wrist and leading me upstairs. I notice Stephanie in the crowd with her cell phone raised in the air.

  Fuck. What’s this bitch up to?

  This looks bad.

  Like really, really bad for me.

  We ascended two flights of stairs, passing people on our way to his bedroom. This looks even worse than what Stephanie probably shot on her camera phone. Luckily, everyone’s too busy making out against walls or standing in line for the bathroom to notice me trailing behind Drake. Or, at least, I hope they don’t.

  Drake unlocks his bedroom door with a key and then moves me inside, locking the door behind him. A giant flat-screen television is hanging on the opposite wall from his oversized bed. It must be a California king, maybe even bigger.

  He stalks to his bed, and before I can join him, a pang of nausea sweeps over me with violent force. No, this is not happening right now. I cover my mouth, and Drake shoots me a confused look. Without a word, I run out of his bedroom in search of the bathroom.

  Chapter Ten

  Drake

  I think Taylor hates me, or at the very least she’s changed her mind about our arrangement. The second I get her into my bedroom, she runs out of it like it’s on fire. Confused, I chase after her, locking the door behind me.

  There are way too many people in my house to leave it open for puck bunnies and curious people to browse through it. I made that mistake years ago and had the Queen of the Puck Bunnies waiting for me in my bed when I came back. Needless to say, I didn’t act on her advances. Nope, I threw her sorry ass out.

 

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