Drake Parker Novels & Stories

“I’m normally not this shy.” Drake takes the glass from her and refills it, handing it back to her not saying a word. “Okay. Well my name is Lydia Gulbransen. I’m 18 years old, born Feb 14th 1994. I am the child to Rebecca Montoya and Severus Gulbransen. I’m a business school drop out, my dad ditched us when my moms was pregnant, my mom ended up severely injured in a car accident, and I had to become a hooker… I mean escort, to pay the bills… there does that

I turn back towards the front and begin getting my stuff out when Kevin plops down next to me. "So where's your little boyfriend?" Kevin mocks. "What are you talking about?" I reply in annoyance. "You know the Draven guy at the festival the other day." Kevin says with a sirk. "You know what they say about the Draven's don't you?" He continues. "They say they are evil vampires and anyone who is around them for too long disappears never to be seen again." He finishes. Suddenly a loud thunk sound comes from my other side and I look to see Victor pulling out the chair next to me. I look back at Kevin who wears a smirk on his face.

"Can you speak softer, you are going to embarrass me in front of everyone." Drake laughs and says. "I don't care what other people think about it because all I want to do to you is forever in my mind." I slap his arm and say. "Stop talking. Focus on your food." I can't believe I got a mate that is sweet and caring to me. Drake is probably 1.74cm tall which makes me feel short since I am about 1.65cm. Drake is the type of guy that I could love forever because he is handsome, muscular and all the things that girls will describe him.

The bitter taste of rejection sat heavy on my tongue until a shadow blocked the light. Drake stepped into the foyer, looking unexpectedly sharp. He wore a slim-fit charcoal suit with a black silk shirt underneath, left unbuttoned at the collar to reveal a silver chain. His hair was slicked back, but a few rebellious strands fell over his forehead, giving him that "troubled heir" look that the cameras loved. "Hey," he said, stopping directly in front of me. "How do I look?" "Not bad," I said matter-of-factly. I forced my gaze away from Jake, desperately trying to focus on Drake. It was easier to look at the son than the father who was currently ignoring me. "What about me? How do I look?"

“She mentioned once that it was always to ‘fix something’ when it came to your… side.” Drake paused, thinking. “Well… I don’t know what Lori could have fixed for my dad. Let’s be real. She isn’t exactly you.” “That’s mean,” I said. He shrugged. “What? She’s as volatile as Kha sometimes and not nearly as pretty with that brown hair.” “I think it’s you who’s obsessed with perfection,” I retorted. He groaned. “Sorry, I know it sounds horrible, okay? I just don’t understand anything else. I’ve spent my whole life being told I was created to be the perfect alpha. It’s hard to wrap my head around, okay?”

Or was he hallucinating from hunger and sleep deprivation? Miguel Sanchez. Child actor turned global popstar. The boy whose face was on the posters behind Drake’s bed. His private obsession. His only light during those long nights alone in the orphanage. And now, he was here? And he just shut down the entire room with a single sentence? “Are you going to speak, or just stand there drooling?” Xander muttered near his ear. Drake blinked out of the fog. “Uh—I’m sorry—” “Don’t apologize. Introduce yourself,” Xander snapped.

However, in trying to fix the past that Lora thought was a personal hell, he had crossed dangerous boundaries. Drake traveled to Los Angeles on the weekends. He was starting to make his way as an actor, despite being afraid of what that would mean. Being close to Jean would drive him away from Lora, and at some point or another Drake would have to make a choice. He also carried heavy trauma from the past, but he dealt with the feeling. His goals included emotional stability and sanity so maybe he could get close to someone and stay. - "Hi, babe. I know you're resting. I just wanted to know if you're okay without me. Take care" Drake left his third voicemail late Saturday night. She hadn't an

he pointed at a little girl of the same height with him holding a football. She pleaded with the driver to keep an eye on him and the young man agreed. Drake rushed to the young girl and took the football from her. “My name is Drake Grande, I love football…and you?” he asked, smiling widely, but the little girl said nothing more than wanting to take back the ball.

After drinking a glass of wine, Drake put down his glass and said, “Mr. Mayo, you may not know me, but you really helped me a lot. What I did today was just to return your kindness.” Kindness? Where did this start? Thomas said, “But we’ve never met before, right? What ‘kindness’ do you speak of?” Drake laughed. “Mr. Mayo, let me clarify it. My first name is Drake, and my surname is Laine.” Laine? Thomas frowned slightly, recalling whether anyone he knew had this surname. Suddenly, he remembered. “Could it be that Kevin Laine, the hospital director of Pharmaceutical University, is your…” Drake laughed. “Yes, he is my father!”