Bex flashes a smile and waves with a cheeky expression on her face. Preston 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. I take 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 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 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. 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. Only a handful of players 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.”
