“Yeah, we need to meet her,” Chloe says. “We have to make sure she’s good enough for you.”
“Actually, she’s a big fan of both of you.”
“Oh?” My mom smiles. “She reads our books?”
I nod. “She freaked out when I told her you’re my mom.”
“She obviously has good taste,” Chloe adds. “I like her already.” She sips from her wine glass and peeks up at me. “We love meeting new readers. You should bring Taylor over to the house sometime.”
Even though my sister can afford to live on her own, she refuses to move out of our childhood home in South Jersey. Me, I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. With how touchy-feely my parents are, I’ve had enough affection to last a lifetime. I’m surprised my dad isn’t over here now. The two of them are practically joined at the hip most of the time.
“I’ll think about it,” I lie as I exit the kitchen.
Taylor would love to meet them. Who am I to deny my favorite women from meeting each other?
When I enter the living room, all of the men are on the couches yelling at the football game. Bex and Coach Bryant are the only new additions to our normal festivities. Coach must know why he was invited to the house with Bex. He honestly can’t be that oblivious to the fact Preston and Bex are together. Not when it’s so clear to everyone else in the room.
I pass beers to my dad, Uncle Tyler, and Uncle Jameson before taking a sip from the last bottle. Kicking my foot up on the ottoman, I lean back, sinking into the leather couch. Tucker is next to me, his arms crossed over his chest. Trent is on the other side glaring at him. A few weeks ago, the twins accidentally hooked up with the same girl.
For some whacky-ass reason, she couldn’t tell they were different people. I don’t know how she didn’t notice the subtle differences in their personalities. They don’t even wear their hair the same way.
Ever since their big blowout, they have barely spoken to each other. Their fight has affected our game on the ice as well. We lost the last few games because of their bullshit. Add for the fact they were benched for two games in a row because of another one of Tucker’s stunts, and they’re on a roll this year.
Preston is busy entertaining Bex and Coach Bryant. Jamie is nerding out with his dad about some video game. Trent and Tucker haven’t spoken more than a few words since they arrived. I’m over here checking my cell phone every ten minutes to see if Taylor has texted or called. I fucking miss her. The silence is killing me.
With most of my friends occupied with their own shit, and our fathers busting each other’s balls over bets they’ve taken on the game, my mind keeps wandering back to Taylor. I wonder if Bex has heard from her.
Two hours pass by with lots of yelling, bet-making, and booing before Aunt Charlotte calls us into the dining room for dinner. She didn’t actually cook any of it, though she’s the one who’s serving it. We sit in our usual places with JP the only person missing.
Preston’s older brother, John Parker, who everyone calls JP, called a few hours ago to say he would be a few hours behind. He works at DMG, the sports agency Preston’s mom now owns.
Uncle Alex makes some room for Coach Bryant on his side of the table. Bex is on Preston’s right in the middle of the table next to me. We dig into the food, and as usual, it’s good. My uncle really should consider teaching the women in this room how to cook. At least while we’re at school, we have Shannon to make us dinner. All of the guys love having her around the house, which also makes me wonder why she’s not here. Jamie better not have fucked that one up.
Bex and Aunt Charlotte talk about Philly Clean, the charity she’s run since before she started dating Uncle Alex. Philly Clean is a youth basketball event she sponsors and helps run every year. All of the money they raise funds the organization’s mission to help fight drug and alcohol addiction in the city. Some of the players from the Sixers teach kids ball handling and various other skills.
Bex’s eyes go wide when Aunt Charlotte asks her to help out this year. “Are you serious?”
From what Preston has told me, Bex is a major fan of his mom. Apart from Taylor, she’s definitely one of the coolest women I’ve ever met. They even have basketball in common. Ugh, I wish she were here right now. Why do I miss her so much? We’ve known each other for less than two months, and somehow I’ve grown so attached to her.
“Yeah. Uh… I would love to.” Bex smiles so wide her teeth are showing. “Thank you.”
All of us pitch in every year. Now that Bex is invited, maybe I can get Taylor to come with us. I hate feeling so uncertain about our relationship, but I do. It’s all so new that I’m afraid she’ll come to her senses and change her mind.
“I hear you’re a big Dante Fisher fan,” Aunt Charlotte says to Bex.
Bex smiles. “The biggest.”
“Bex has posters of him on her bedroom walls,” Coach Bryant says.
Bex turns beat red, shooting her dad a warning look down the table. “Dad, c’mon. Don’t embarrass me. Please.”
The table erupts into laughter.
“If you come, you’ll get to meet him.” Aunt Charlotte finishes chewing her food. “Dante, I mean. He’s helping out with the kids this year.”
Bex covers her mouth with her hand and squeals. “Shut. Up.” She fans herself with her hand. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean for you to shut up. I’m just… wow! Like I have no idea what to say. Dante is so—”
Aunt Charlotte waves her hand. “I know what you mean. No need to worry. Even after ten years of retirement, he’s still the same player I signed out of high school. He’s arrogant and a little much to take in all at once.” She points at Uncle Alex. “This one was the same way. Actually, all three of them were.”
She’s referring to my dad and Uncle Tyler, who were all her clients at one time. The three of them shrug off her comment and laugh.
“Tyler was the most arrogant player I’d ever met,” Aunt Kennedy chimes. “He was infuriating. Trying to get an interview with him was like pulling teeth.”
“Hey, babe, you got more than an interview.” Tyler winks at her.
Ava, Tucker, and Trent make gagging sounds.
“Daddy, that’s gross.” Ava tucks her long blonde hair behind her ears. “People are trying to eat.”
Ava is a professional model who travels around the world. She’s drop-dead gorgeous and was my first crush as a kid. She’s not much older than me. I could never admit to Tucker or Trent how much I would fantasize about their sister when we were kids. Like way too much.
All of the Kanes have the same blonde hair, blue eyes, and light features. Their mom has dark hair, so they’re all the spitting image of their dad.
Ava looks down the table at Preston and Bex. “So, how did you two meet?”
Bex’s cheeks flush to a shade of burgundy. “I ran into him in the locker room.”
Ava raises her eyebrow, confused. “Like the men’s locker room?”
Bex nods.
“Oh, now this I have to hear. Sounds juicy.”
“More like horrifying,” Bex says. “My dad told me to meet him after practice. I didn’t realize the guys were still in the locker room, and well, let’s just say, that was kinda awkward.”
Coach Bryant shakes his head. “Needless to say, Bex found the side entrance to my office after that day.” He looks right at Bex. “No more entering through the locker room.”
“No, definitely not,” Bex says. “That’s one place I never want to walk through again.”
Everyone at the table laughs.
Midway through dinner, JP strolls into the dining room, his black pea coat covered with snow.
“Sorry, I’m late.” JP bends down to kiss his mom on the cheek, followed by the rest of the women. “I got stuck in traffic on my way back from New York.”
After he hangs up his coat, JP sits down and stares at Bex. “And who are you? I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Bex Bryant.”
His eyes travel from Bex to Preston. “I can’t believe Preston has a girlfriend. Would you look at that?”
Bex remains expressionless as she stares at JP. Coach Bryant notices her strange reaction, and his eyes narrow as if he’s just now figured out why Preston invited them to dinner.
“Bex and Preston are friends,” Coach Bryant says.
“I know my brother, and these two are definitely more than friends,” JP says, fixing himself a plate. “How come you didn’t tell me, little bro? I haven’t heard from you in over a month.”
Bex is fidgeting in her chair. Preston hasn’t spoken a word or touched his food. Coach Bryant is quick to pick up on their behavior.
“Is there something going on between you two?”
“Coach,” Preston says, and I keep my fingers crossed under the table that he doesn’t lose playing time. “I was gonna talk to you about this.”
“My bad,” JP says. “I didn’t know you guys were…”
It’s so awkward now, the tension building with each second we sit in silence. Thank God, Aunt Charlotte has enough sense to keep the conversation going.
“How was the weather in New York?” She asks JP to change the subject.
“Worse than it is here. They had at least two more inches of snow.”
As everyone else tries to forget about Preston’s confession, Coach Bryant stares in his direction between bites of his food. At one point, he even shakes his head at Bex and Preston. This would have been the perfect time for Taylor to be here. She would have changed the mood in the room with one of her goofy jokes. No matter the situation, she always knows the right things to say.
Before dinner ends, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Finally, it’s from Taylor, but not with the message I was hoping to receive.
Chapter Thirteen
Taylor
I miss Strickland University. For the first time in years, I’m ready to go back to the place I now identify as home. We moved so often when I was a kid that I never knew where I fit in. It was hard to make long-term friends. I never had an inner circle. But now that I’m part of Drake’s world, I want to go back to where I belong.
Sitting in the kitchen with my mom, I stare out the window, the sun shining through the curtains. It’s sunny in California, at least thirty degrees warmer than it is back in Philly. I hate cold weather. Even after living in Germany for years, I still can’t stand the harshness of winter. Though, I know if I were there right now, Drake would keep me warm.
For Thanksgiving, our family always rents a house for the week in Northern California so my dad and brother can hunt our turkey. Since high school, this has been our tradition. Shaun helps my dad with the meat, and I get the honor of making the side dishes with my mom.
My cell phone dings, and when I lift it from the table, a smile crosses my lips. Drake hasn’t stopped texting me since my plane touched down in California.
Drake: Can’t stop thinking about you…
Taylor: The feeling is mutual, buddy.
Drake: Can you talk?
I glance over at my mom, who’s cutting bread for the stuffing. My family makes everything from scratch. Even the turkey is fresh. My dad and older brother, Shaun, are out right now hunting for wild turkeys.
“Do you need any help?” I ask my mom.
She scans the counter in front of her and shrugs. “No, not yet. I’ll need you in a little while to help me with the potatoes.”
“Okay, let me know when you need me.”
Everyone in our family has to pitch in. As my dad says, No one eats for free. You want to eat, you have to help kill it or cook it. Whenever I wanted new clothes or shoes, he would assign me a chore to earn it. When we weren’t eating at the chow hall on base, my brother and I were required to assist my mom in the kitchen.
On my way out of the kitchen, my mom’s cell phone rings. “Honey, can you get that?” She holds up her bread-covered fingers. “Got my hands full.”
With a nod, I answer the phone. Before I can say hello, my dad’s voice blares through the receiver.
“Claire,” he growls.
“No, sir. It’s Taylor.”
“Taylor.” He sounds out of breath. “Put your mother on the phone.”
“Is everything okay?”
“No, your idiot brother shot himself in the foot with his rifle.”
I gasp at his words. “Is Shaun okay?”
“What’s going on?” Mom says from behind me, wiping her hands on a towel. She takes the phone from me, a single tear streaking down her face as my dad tells her about Shaun.
A minute later, she hangs up the phone and rips her apron off, dropping it onto the counter. “We have to get going, honey. Looks like we’re spending Thanksgiving at the hospital.”
She grabs her car keys, and without taking a single thing with me, I follow her into the driveway. Thirty minutes later, we’re in the emergency room with my dad, who’s dressed head-to-toe in camouflage.
He stands as we approach, pushing his hands to his hips. Even after years of retirement, he still looks like a commanding officer. I never expected my dad to retire from the Marine Corps to work for a contractor, but my mom had begged him to settle down someplace they could call home.
“Shaun needs surgery to repair the damage,” my dad says, embracing my mom in his arms.
She’s trembling, while my dad is as cool as a cucumber. Nothing fazes him. He’s seen much worse in the field than my brother shooting his toe off. My poor brother. As much as my dad tries, he will never make Shaun like him. Shaun is creative and carefree, where my dad is a trained killer who doesn’t have a soft bone in his body.
After he releases my mom, Dad pulls me into a hug and kisses me on the head. He’s not as tall as Drake, but he has a few inches on me. We don’t speak. He merely holds me tight as if he’s afraid something will happen to me.
After a few hours of hanging out in the waiting room, the doctor finally allows us to see Shaun. He’s lying in a hospital bed, his eyes lidded from the anesthesia. My mom comes up to his side and slips her fingers between his. Shaun’s eyes fully open a few seconds later. He blinks a few times and then smiles up at my mom.
I sit at the edge of his bed. “I can’t believe you shot off your toe.”
He forces a smile. “I don’t know what happened. I was adjusting the rifle, and the next thing I knew, I lost my footing and… well, you know what happened next.”
“It’s a freak accident,” Mom says.
Dad grunts, shoving his hands into his pockets. I can tell what he’s thinking without him speaking. He’s disappointed in Shaun. My dad is tough, and if you’re not as strong as him, he considers it a weakness. That’s why I’ve always pushed people away. The second I sniffed out what he would’ve considered a weakness, I walked away from that person. I almost did it with Drake, all because of how I was raised.
Oh, shit. I forgot my cell phone on the table in the kitchen. Drake won’t admit it, but I know he gets worried when he doesn’t hear from me. I usually text him back right away, but it’s been hours since he asked if I could talk.
“What’s for dinner?” my brother asks with laughter in his tone.
My dad shakes his head, his expression devoid of emotion. “We were supposed to have turkey. But now…”
“We can eat in the cafeteria,” I offer. “It will be like old times at the chow hall.”
I saw a sign on the wall that they’re serving turkey dinner for the staff and for any hospital guests who have the misfortune of spending the day here. No matter the circumstances, my family always makes it work.
Dad flashes a real smile for once.
After we eat dinner in Shaun’s hospital room, we stay until visiting hours are over. The doctor wants to keep him overnight for observation.
When we arrive back at the rental, I go straight for the kitchen. Drake’s texted me at least a dozen times. So, I send him a quick text.
Taylor: Sorry, spent Thanksgiving in the hospital. I’m okay. I’ll expla
in later. I hope your holiday was better than mine.
Drake calls me within seconds of receiving the message. His tone is filled with worry, but he settles down once I tell him the story. I rest my head on a stack of pillows as we rehash the details of our days. I’m so exhausted, yet comfortable with Drake, that after ten minutes, I end up falling asleep with him still on the line.
Jackie elbows me in the side knocking me off balance. My sneakers slide along the court, and I almost lose possession of the ball because of it. We’re on the same damn scrimmage team. What the fuck is she doing?
Giving Jackie a wicked look, I pass the ball back to Bex. She’s the top shooting guard in the league, with far better ball handling skills than anyone on our team. I don’t know why Jackie’s been pushing me around since we got back from the break. This isn’t the first time she’s elbowed me on purpose and then flashed a cocky smirk in response to my anger.
Bex dribbles the ball, sweeping it between her legs as she looks for the open player. Dodging the girl guarding me, I pivot my foot, my hands in front of me to intercept the ball. With a quick dribble and roll to my right, I slip past my opponent about to make the layup when someone kicks their foot out in front of me.
I fall flat on my face, my chin hitting the court hard. An intense pain shoots through my skull, forcing my eyes shut. The ball rolls beneath the basket and hits the padded wall in the gymnasium. I blink a few times to regain my vision, and then Bex is standing above me calling my name.
She holds out her hand, which I gladly accept. When I rise to my feet, I have trouble standing. Clutching her shoulder, I suck in a deep breath, wondering what just happened.
“I think someone tripped me,” I say.
She grits her teeth. “It was Jackie.”
“What is wrong with her?”
“It’s because of Drake. Apparently, she’s been telling everyone on the team that you’re his new whore and that he sees her on the side.”
“Are you kidding me?”
Defending Donovan Page 11
