Cocky F*ck: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 2)

by Sheridan Anne

  Having wasted enough time, we get stuck into our dinner and half an hour later, Colton stands beside me at the sink, passing me dishes to wash up as mom clears everything off the table.

  His arm brushes against mine and every little touch sends electricity pulsing through my body. “You’re an asshole, you know that right?”

  Colton chuckles softly. “I know, but watching the panic in your eyes was too good to stop.”

  I groan and dunk another plate under the water and busily scrub it until it is sparkling clean. We get halfway through the dishes when Mom’s phone chimes on the kitchen counter, indicating an incoming email. She scurries across the room and scoops it up before leaning on to the counter.

  A soft smile spreads across Colton’s face and it has me wondering if he already knows what just arrived in her inbox and I find myself leaning around him to watch her.

  Mom quickly scans over the email as I feel my phone vibrate in my jeans pocket. I wipe my hands on the dish towel and am just about ready to pull my phone out of my pocket when Mom screeches with joy. Her loud squeal makes me jump and I look back at her to find her jumping up and down.

  “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says a moment before slamming into Colton and giving him a tight hug.

  “What is it?” I demand.

  “Oh, Honey,” Mom says, her eyes filling with tears and she falls away from Colton and drops into my arms, giving me the tightest squeeze. “Colton has doubled my salary.”

  “What?” I laugh, meeting his eyes over Mom’s shoulder and realizing that there’s no point in checking my phone as it’s just going to be the same email that mom received from Colton’s accountant. “That’s incredible. Congratulations.”

  “Oh, my God, Honey,” she whispers into my ear. “The things this could mean for us …” She lets out an emotion-filled sigh and pulls out of my arms before turning and looking back up at Colton. “This is incredible, but I can’t accept it.”

  “You can and you will,” he tells her.

  Mom shakes her head in wonder. “I … I don’t even know what to say. I just … why?”

  Colton meets my eyes, both of us knowing exactly why this happened. I shake my head ever so slightly, hoping he’s able to put his douchey tendencies to rest, if only for a second and tell her what I need him to, rather than admit that she got a raise because I demanded it on her behalf, risking everything.

  He looks back at Mom and I hold my breath, the anticipation burning within me. “Because you deserve it,” he finally says, putting me out of my misery. “With Dad gone, I thought it was a good time to review all the finances and decided that all the full-time staff could use a raise. The way my father has treated them over the years hasn’t always been great and they should be compensated for that. But there were a select few who are here every day, busting their asses to make my life easier, and what better way to show my appreciation than offering them what they deserve? I see you, Mrs. Munroe, everything you do here. You’re the best housekeeper we’ve had in years.”

  Tears brim in her eyes and she pulls Colton into another hug. “Are you sure this isn’t just because you’re trying to impress my daughter?”

  “I seriously doubt that throwing money around is something that’s going to impress a girl like Ocean.”

  Mom nods and pulls back. “You’d be right about that,” she says. “So very right.”

  We get back into cleaning up and every few minutes, a small joyful laugh slips out of Mom, and every time it does, Colton grins to himself, making all sorts of happiness sweep through me.

  We finish up and it’s not long before Mom excuses herself to get ready for bed, leaving me with Colton staring down at me. His hands drop to my waist, just as they always do and I find myself leaning into him, bringing my hands to his wide chest and sliding them up around his neck while wondering what exactly is going on here. Are we more than just two people having a little fun while constantly at each other's throats? Are we together and I just don’t know it? No. I don’t know.

  “What are you doing now?” he murmurs, letting his lips brush across mine.

  I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. I was maybe going to find another book to read.”

  His eyes darken. “You could always come and chill with me.”

  “Dare I ask what chilling with you entails?”

  Colton laughs. “Honestly, when it comes to you, I have no fucking idea.”

  I can’t help but laugh with him because he’s never been so right. When it comes to this messed up relationship that continues to grow between us, every step has been taken in the dark. Something sobers within me and I raise my chin to gently press my lips against his. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “For what?”

  “Following through with the raise. You could have easily forgotten about it the second I walked out of your room, but you didn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You changed her life,” I tell him. “I saw the way you were in the board meeting. You completely dominated it and I realized that you’re not the kind of guy who will allow anyone to walk all over you, but I got exactly what I asked for and I hardly even put up a fight.”

  “Because I wanted that for you, but I needed you to take it. If I had just given it to you, you never would have accepted it. You needed to think that you did it on your own, and besides, you looked so damn proud of yourself. How could I have taken that away?”

  His eyes remain on mine and something deepens between us but neither of us are ready to think about what it means. Instead, he reaches up and takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. “Come on,” he says, pulling me toward the door. “Enough of this serious talk. If it goes on any longer, one of us is going to accidentally start another war.”

  I laugh as I allow him to pull me along and soon enough we’re dropping down onto the couch in the den before he draws me into his arms and for the first time, I truly feel like that’s exactly where I belong.

  Chapter 14

  A grape flies through the air and I watch as Colton catches it in his mouth. He lays at the other end of the long couch, grinning back at me and looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him all week. “Strippers deserve the utmost respect, don’t you think?” he questions with a grin, continuing with our conversation.

  I cross my legs under myself as the movie plays on the screen, completely forgotten about. “I think so. Four of the girls I went to school with were stripping just so they could support themselves after their parents were either murdered or left them to fend for themselves. Putting yourself out there to be sexualized by men just to make a little cash couldn’t be easy.”

  “Fair point,” he says, raising his chin for another grape and catching it with ease when I launch it across the room. “What about male strippers?”

  “Oh, hell. I have all the respect in the world for those guys. They can come through here and show off their talents any time they want,” I laugh. “Though, I’m going to need to borrow a few dollar bills so I can make it rain.”

  “That’s fine,” he says with a wicked grin. “You can have all the dollar bills you want, but you’re going to have to make your ass clap to get them.”

  I grab a handful of grapes and launch them across the room, every single one of them missing him completely. “I am not your personal stripper and besides, I don’t think I’m even capable of making my ass clap.”

  “Trust me, Jade,” he says, scooping a stray grape off the couch beside him and popping it into his mouth. “If you want to make your ass clap, then you can do it.”

  “I don’t know whether to be touched by the faith you have in my abilities or disturbed by how sure you are about it.”

  Colton shrugs a shoulder and I watch as his eyes brim with joy. He waves his hand to the space in front of him. “Why don’t you give it a try and save us all this wondering.”

  Another grape flies and he barks out a sharp laugh. “Would you quit throwing grapes at me?”


  “Quit making crude comments and I won’t have to.”

  His hands fly up in surrender. “Fine,” he says. “I'll behave.”

  Yeah, right. Colton Carrington actually sticking to his word? I’ll believe it when I see it. Though for some reason, he has my complete trust. If this was a life or death situation, I'd trust him with my life to stick to his word, but in this situation, not so much.

  “You better,” I warn him, holding up the bowl of grapes. “I have plenty to spare.”

  His eyes soften and I’m left confused for the millionth time tonight. Things have finally started to ease between us, but I can’t help but keep going back to the comment he made during dinner.

  Not yet. He's not in love with me yet.

  He left that whole topic wide open and although I desperately shut it down, I can’t help but want to know more. It was clear by the look on his face that he was giving me his honest truth and if I have to dive deep inside myself, I’d probably find that I felt the same.

  I don’t want to love him. That seems like a death trap, but I feel that if we keep getting closer the way we are, I might one day. I certainly have a soft spot for him and every day, it keeps getting softer … stronger.

  We’re not at each other’s throat or desperate to get under each other’s skin anymore. Though, if the opportunity presented itself, I’d take it with both hands and never let go. I love that part about our relationship. Now that the anger and distaste have faded away, the bickering and arguments just leave me hot.

  Colton’s head drops back against the cushion of the couch and a seriousness creeps into his eyes. “Tell me something about you, Ocean. Something I don’t know.”

  I press my lips together, trying to figure out what this guy wouldn’t already know from one of the background searches he would have done on me. “I …” I start before cutting myself off and realizing that not only is this way too deep but it’s also too soon, especially for him.

  “What is it?” he murmurs, never taking his eyes off me.

  My eyes drop to the grape rolling between my fingers. “It’s nothing.”

  “Ocean.”

  Fuck. Why does he have to say my name like that? His voice is low and filled with authority. Why do I want him to know me so badly? Not just the me that I allow the outside world to see, but the version of me that I keep private. The one that only my four boys and my mom know exist.

  My eyes raise back to meet his and as they stare into mine, the words start falling from my lips. “Have you ever looked into my father’s murder?”

  He shakes his head ever so slightly. “Should I have?”

  “No,” I say. “I’m kinda glad you haven’t. It’s not exactly something I want being public knowledge.”

  He nods in understanding. “What are you trying to tell me that you keep dancing around?”

  I let out a soft sigh and find the courage building within me. “I was the one to find him lying there with the … you know, and all the blood ...”

  Colton’s brow arches and he watches me for a silent second before adjusting his position on the couch and patting the empty space beside him. I move instantly.

  I crawl along the couch until I’m pressed into his side and his lips are firmly against my temples. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Finding my father was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I can't imagine how bad it would have been had I actually had a good relationship with him.”

  “Mmhmm,” I agree, knowing all too well as I slip the strap of my tank off my shoulder and show him my tattoo. “See the outline of the tattoo?” I ask, watching as his gaze travels over my heated skin and waiting for his nod to go on. “I don’t know if this makes me morbid or just weird, but the outline is the same shape as the pool of blood that surrounded him. I never wanted to forget it so I had it tattooed over my shoulder then added the flowers to remind me that he’s in a better place now. Knowing that he’s up there somewhere, no longer struggling or stressed is the silver lining.”

  Colton’s fingers trace over the flowers and I close my eyes, melting into his touch. His lips press against my shoulder and as I turn to look down at him, he raises his chin to meet mine. He captures my lips and sparks fly, just as they do every time they’re on mine.

  Colton takes my waist and lifts me until I’m straddled over his hips but the longer his lips move against mine, the more something pulls within me. I place my hand against his chest and feel his heart racing beneath my touch. I gently pull back from him and he looks up at me, his brows furrowing as he takes in the hesitation on my face.

  “What’s wrong?” he murmurs, his voice wrapping around me like the softest caress as his thumbs roam up and down my waist.

  I bite down on my bottom lip, unsure if I should really be telling him this. To know that I’ve been holding onto this little piece of information might just undo everything that we’ve been able to get past over the last week. The fear of having him pull away tears at my soul but what kind of person would I be if I kept this from him?

  “You really haven’t looked up anything about my father’s death?”

  His brows furrow and his hands stop moving on my waist. “No. Why?”

  I glance away, unable to handle the intensity shining through his hazel eyes. “Please don’t hate me.”

  “Hate you?” he scoffs. “What’s going on, Jade?”

  I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the guilt build against my soul. “My father was stabbed with a silver, 12-inch dagger that pierced through his heart from his back. It was old, and the design on the hilt was intricate and obviously handmade.”

  Colton’s face drops a little more with every word I say until he’s looking at me in complete confusion. “What are you saying, Ocean?”

  “I’m saying that the dagger that killed my father was the exact same dagger that I saw protruding from your father’s chest last week.”

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “That’s not possible.”

  “I know,” I tell him, “But what are the chances that both our fathers were killed the same way by identical knives? Either it was the same knife or whoever did this has duplicates. I don’t believe in coincidences, Colton. Mom and I weren’t brought here by chance. Something has put us here and I don't know why. I don’t understand it but to say this is all coincidental would be a mistake.”

  “Shit, babe,” he murmurs, his eyes going far away as he thinks over the information I just dumped on him. “Are you sure?”

  “How could I not be? What are the chances of my mom getting offered a job here and your father being murdered the exact same way as her husband only five months later by the same dagger?”

  Colton sits up on the couch, pulling me up with him. “And you decided to wait over a week to come and say something about this?”

  “Really?” I grunt. “The day your father died, you pushed me away. Had I even thought about opening my mouth, you would have killed me on the spot. Then you locked yourself away with a bottle of … I don’t even remember what it was ... scotch, maybe? Then there was the funeral and since then you practically locked yourself in your office while avoiding everyone and everything. I mean, there were those few minutes in the library where I could have said something but my mind was a little preoccupied.”

  “Okay, okay. I get it,” he says, his eyes briefly heating at the mention of the library. “I might have been a bit of a hermit this week, but I have a pretty good reason.”

  “I never said you didn’t,” I tell him. “But speaking of your hermit tendencies, did you even go to school last week? You know you have to actually attend to graduate, right? Dean Simmons is a fucking prick. He’s going to start failing you soon and those board members won’t exactly be happy with a director who couldn’t make it through high school.”

  “I can just—”

  “If you say ‘pay him off’ I’m going to castrate you, Carrington.”

  Colton’s lips twist into a devilish grin. “I wasn’t going to say that,” he sa
ys. “But that might work too.”

  “Oh, geez! Do I even want to know?”

  He shakes his head. “Trust me, you’re better off in the dark on this one.”

  I can only imagine what that could mean when he’s talking about a guy like Dean Simmons and I can only imagine that it’s the worst kind of awful. Maybe Colton is right. Maybe I am better off in the dark where Simmons is involved.

  “You’re not mad at me for not telling you about this sooner?”

  Colton lets out a soft breath and I watch as he takes a moment to actually think it over. “No,” he finally says. “I want to be, but I’m not. What happened to your father is a tragedy but it’s also none of my business. You’re under no obligation to have to share that with me just because you feel there’s a connection, but I’m happy you did. I don’t want that bullshit building up on your shoulders and now it gives us somewhere to start looking.”

  My hand falls to his and he instantly threads his fingers through mine. “Thank you.”

  A small smile pulls at the corners of his lips before they press into a tight line. “Out of curiosity, did they ever find the guy who killed your dad?”

  I shake my head. “It was a stabbing in Breakers Flats. It got ruled as gang violence before his body was even cold but dad had nothing to do with the gangs. He was completely against them and made a point not to get involved. Even when Nic or any of the boys were over, he’d go and hide out in the garage or disappear completely.”

  “So, you think the same guy who killed your father is the same one who killed mine?” Colton asks, leaning back into the couch.

  I shrug my shoulders. “It makes sense, right?”

  “It does,” he murmurs. “All week I’ve been thinking it was the DeCarlo family.”

  “The who?” I grunt, scrunching my face at the unfamiliar name.

  “Vincent DeCarlo. Fifteen years ago, his business was going bankrupt and dad helped him out. He bought his business and got the whole family out of debt. That business turned into Carrington Incorporated and once dad got it back on its feet and transformed it into a billion-dollar business, Vincent wanted it back.”