We watch the game for a few minutes in silence, the score so close I hold my breath.
Bex leans over, her elbow invading my space. “How’s school going? Did you pass that exam you were freaking out about the other day?”
I nod. “Piece of cake.”
She chuckles. “Didn’t sound like one when you were sweating it the other night.”
“This program is hard,” I admit. “But I knew it would be before I applied.”
“In less than five years, I’ll be calling you Dr. Donovan,” she quips.
“Drake hasn’t proposed,” I shoot back. “He’s not allowed to ask me until after I graduate and his career is situated.”
Bex covers her mouth with her hand, intentionally flashing the giant rock Preston gave her last month. Talk about bling. That thing could pay for a brand new car.
“Drake wants to marry you. You already know that. If you would let him propose, he would probably marry you right here on the ice.”
I cock my head at her. “Like Preston’s parents?”
She leans back in the chair and smiles. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t love to get married somewhere like the Wells Fargo Center. That’s pretty sweet.”
“Didn’t Tucker and Trent’s mom have Ava at Coach’s wedding?”
Bex nods. “Her water broke on Jamie’s parents’ feet. Regan thought Kennedy peed on her shoes.”
We both tilt our heads back and laugh.
It’s so nice to have Bex with me. I don’t want her to go back to Pittsburgh with Preston. Living with each other for four years became so natural to me that I could have attended Strick U until they threw me out on my ass. I’m one of those weird people who likes going to school. I’d be a professional student if it were a job.
The graduate psychology program at UC Berkeley is five years. I’m six months into my classes, and right now, another four and a half years feels like an eternity. Drake was okay with waiting to get married. I’m only twenty-two and not even close to being ready to settle down and have a family.
My mom said she lost herself when she married my dad. Her dream to become a nurse fell by the wayside once she realized she would have to move every few years to accommodate my father’s career. Drake doesn’t want that for me. Even if he gets traded to another team, he doesn’t want me to follow him like a lost puppy. He doesn’t want me to wake up one day and hate him for sacrificing my goals for his. And I would never want him to do the same for me.
San Jose wins the game, the arena erupting into a fit of cheers, which is a welcome relief. Bex’s nose scrunches in irritation, though she does clap and give her congratulations.
Drake and Preston didn’t play much. They both knew their rookie year would be rough. Less money and little playing time are part of the game when you’re fresh meat.
A few hours later, I’m sitting on the back patio of our new house, curled up next to Drake on the oversized chair. Bex and Preston are opposite us in a similar cushy chair. They’re busy cuddling and whispering into each other’s ears. I never thought we would end up here. We weren’t the type of girls either of them went after, and yet here we are after all this time.
When I first met Drake, I never thought I would let him kiss me, let alone become my world. I never expected him to make every effort to impress me. And he shocked the hell out of me when he stole my heart and held on so tight I knew I was a goner.
Drake takes a sip from his beer, the cold bottle sending a shiver down my spine when it grazes my cheek.
Drake notices and hugs me close. “You cold?” I nod, and he cloaks me with his big body, his thick arms and muscular chest crushing me. “How about now?”
I chuckle, my lips brushing against his arm. “You always warm me up.”
“Preston asked me to be in his wedding,” he says in a hushed tone. “Looks like I’ll need your help picking out a tux.”
Fisting his shirt in my hands, I gaze up at him. The heat sizzling between us sends a ripple of warmth down my arms. “The thought of you in a tux does things to me…”
He laughs and then dips down to give me a peck on the lips, but it becomes more. I can taste the beer on his tongue when he slips it into my mouth.
Once our lips separate, I whisper, still out of breath from the passion behind his kiss. “Well, you already know I’m the maid of honor. Too bad you won’t be the one to walk me down the aisle.”
“Nope. Jamie gets to do that since he’s the best man.”