Max Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 15)

by Faleena Hopkins

  Many benefits, since this one cooks.

  Returning to my computer I smile, “Oh good. Thank you. Didn’t realize I was hungry until now.”

  “You use me for my cooking and my body.”

  With my back to him I sigh, “That was one time. And we were drunk.”

  “Not wasted enough to black out though. It’ll always stay right here.” I don’t have to turn around to know he’s tapping his head, because he loves to do that. Whenever he claims his idea is best, or he’s defending his opinion, A.J. will be knocking on his noggin with a finger or two.

  When I don’t take the bait to converse some more, he goes back to work. I’m so engrossed in learning about how expensive the union crew-contracts are that I don’t notice him again until he sets a steaming plate in front of my slouching torso.

  He bends down to read my screen, his familiar scent drifting into my nose. But he’s not Max, not nearly as alluring. Max’s pheromones turned me insatiable in less than fifteen minutes. Maybe it’s because my roommate is so invested in his looks, but it took A.J. almost a year to get me to sleep with him. By that time I was sure we’d still be friends after, so I gave in for a night because it had been too long without being touched. As for that remaining friends contingency…so far so good.

  “Why are you learning about filmmaking contracts, Natalie?”

  “Looks like I’m a producer.”

  Taking a seat he digs into his meal. “Since when?”

  “Since three days ago,” I smile.

  Waving an egg-filled fork he says, “Enlighten me.”

  Should I tell him how nervous I was when I crashed those interviews? How I’d acted all tough so it would appear I was more confident than I truly feel on most days?

  I learned one thing working at the strip clubs, when the dancers act like they’re sexy, they are. If you pretend like you can handle anything and nothing scares you, other people will believe it. And I needed Max to see a woman he could rely on.

  Everything I told him about what I’ve done for the clubs’ bottom line was true. I was completely honest about all of it. The only thing fake was my tough veneer and saucy attitude.

  Never planned on fucking him. Didn’t do it to land the job, either. I gave in to the sexual current between us because I was playing a role and he is so damn hot I got carried away. I wanted him, couldn’t wait to feel him inside me, and I know it’s going to be a bitch to resist jumping on him again.

  None of this will I confide to A.J.

  “Not much to tell. I overheard some people leaving an interview when I was in West Midtown. Asked around, invited myself into the room, and talked the director into hiring me. This is good sausage, what is this?”

  “Maple syrup marinated.” He takes a sip of coffee. “How’d you talk him into it?”

  “Told him about the success of the clubs.”

  “You’re pretty enough you could be an actress. He should put you in the film.”

  “I have no interest in it, but thanks.” Scooping up eggs I add, “Not all of us want to stand in the lights.”

  “I love the lights on me. Dancing up there, the reactions I get. It’s a fucking blast.”

  “And you’re very good at what you do.” I go back to reading and we eat in silence for a while. A.J. rises up with his empty plate and brings it to the sink, cleaning and putting everything away. He’s the most conscientious roommate I’ve ever had. It’s made me better at cleaning up, too. When I come home from whatever the world wants to dish out, I’ve got a clean house waiting. Nothing better than that feeling when I’m tired.

  Makes our home a sanctuary.

  “Thank you!” I call after him as he heads off for his shower.

  “You want to join me?”

  I give him a look. “No.”

  He laughs and disappears.

  An hour later he walks into the kitchen with his backpack slung over workout clothes. “I’m going mountain biking. You still reading about boring ass contracts?”

  “I’ve moved on to budgeting software. Did you know they actually have software that just covers the film and television industry?”

  “That’s fascinating,” he dryly says on his way out. “Try and see the sun today would ya?”

  “You’ll see enough of it for both of us,” I mutter, face buried in the screen.

  “You’re wasting your life inside when it’s a sunny day,” and the door clicks shut behind him.

  I shake my head, saying aloud though there’s no one but me to hear it, “When you want something badly enough you have to sacrifice to get it.” But after about an hour, Paul calls me. It’s a Saturday which means busy in the dance world.

  “Nat, get in here.”

  “Now?”

  “No, how ‘bout next week sometime whenever you’re free? Yes now!” He hangs up.

  Making a face at the phone, I stand up, turn off my computer. “If you didn’t pay me as much as you do, I would so be out of there, Paul.” My shoulders rise with excitement, eyes widening. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think of this. If I help bring his film to profit, I might have a new career!” Dancing to my shower I sing completely off-key a song I’m making up on the spot. “Goodbye Paul. See ya later you stinky person with your bad toupee and bad manners!” Holding my arms up I wiggle stretched fingers for my jazzy finish. “Cha cha cha cha!!”

  CHAPTER 7

  M AX

  I get Lexi’s voicemail again, and hang up to dial Samantha. My sisters are inseparable so if something is happening to Alexis, Sam will know about it.

  Her sweetheart voice answers on the second ring, “Hi Max, sorry I didn’t return your call!”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I was busy.”

  “Sure you were.”

  “I was!” Nervously changing the subject so she can stop lying to me, my baby sister asks, “How’s your film coming along?”

  “Making progress, but I’m calling about something else and you know it.”

  “Oh?”

  “I left four messages about it! Who’s this guy Lexi’s hooking up with?”

  “Hooking up?” she laughs, chiding me. “She’s very serious about Brad.”

  “Brad? Guys named Brad are up to no good.”

  “You’d think anybody we dated was after something bad, Max.”

  “Because they are! I’m a guy. I know what they’re after.”

  “Caden seems to think it’s his job to butt in, too,” she shoots back with a smile in her voice. “You need to let us out of our cages. Oh wait, we already climbed out!”

  “Trust me, your cage has a dead bolt on it.”

  “Dumb.”

  “I’m not dumb, you’re dumb.”

  “You’re dumber.”

  “I love you. There’s a difference.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. Anyway, it doesn’t matter because Lexi has her own mind and nothing you say could stop her, and you know that!”

  Opening the blinds on my loft I mutter at a clear sky, “That’s what she thinks.” As Samantha starts to object I cut her off, “Sam, we are Cockers. We look after our own. That’s just how it is, so where is she?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  “Tell me!”

  “No.”

  “Samantha!”

  “Maximus!”

  I laugh, “That’s not my name!”

  “Well, you said my long name so I couldn’t just say one syllable and win.”

  “You want me to drive over there?”

  “Sure if you want to waste gas money. She’s not here and I’m heading to dance class so knock yourself out!”

  “Samantha!” There’s no response so I say it again, this time a question, “Sam?” The line is dead. “She hung up on me,” I grumble, dialing Caden.

  Hunter, the youngest of us, only eighteen, won’t know about or care what’s happening to Lexi. He’s too preoccupied with his newfound sex life and the fact that the Cocker reputation makes panties drop quicker tha
n booze ever could.

  But Caden cares. Not only are we the oldest and naturally inclined to watch over our sisters, Caden began taking life very seriously after Grandpa Michael narrowly survived a heart attack years back. Caden enrolled in med school immediately after Grandma Nance was freaking out and shouting to our waiting room, “Will one of you please become a doctor?! We need someone on the inside!”

  There are seventeen of us grandchildren.

  Caden was the only one who took it as a direct order.

  “Max!” he barks. “I’ve had too much caffeine. First year residency is brutal. I’m dying.”

  “You love it.”

  “I do. But someone needs to bring me better coffee. What we have in the machines is absolute garbage. Lexi return your calls?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Good,” he mutters, “I was hoping it wasn’t just me she was ignoring. I mean it’s not good, but fuck, you know what I mean. I need a cracker or something. My stomach lining is wasting away.”

  “Please tell me you’re not hands-on with actual patients in this condition.”

  “What? Nah, I’m following. Listening. Acting like I’m smarter than Janet the know-it-all. Look, they’re making me go home at nine tonight to get some rest. I’ll meet up with you and we’ll put this Brad person to rest once and for all.”

  “So you know his name?”

  “Of course I know his name. You think you have one up on me?”

  Smirking I head for my fridge. “Nah, why would I ever think that?”

  “I hear the sarcasm.”

  “Do you?”

  “You know what, I’m fucking wired. Don’t mess with me today. This little brown-noser has these people wrapped around her finger. She’s forcing me to up my game.”

  Putting him on speaker I dig out cold cuts and salad fixings. “You’re a competitive guy. Use that anger to motor your way through the last few hours.”

  “Oh I plan on it!”

  “But don’t let it turn you into an asshole.”

  Caden’s silent for a beat. “Good advice.”

  “I’m always here to lead the way.”

  He laughs, “Help me,” but the sound is tight with ambition and a little fear. “I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight!”

  I stare at the dead phone. “Does nobody say goodbye anymore?”

  Crafting the ham and vegan cheddar sandwich of the century, I whistle to myself. Other than my bad melody, the loft is quiet. This was our father’s pad when he was my age. Mom and Dad lived here until I was born. They bought a house, the one we were raised in and where they live now, and he rented out this pad for years. Sentimental reasons. He and Mom had strong emotions tied to where they fell in love. Neither could imagine giving it over permanently to strangers.

  When I finished film school their tenant at the time relocated to Orlando. I jumped at the chance of having this place for myself. It’s the perfect bachelor pad. Spacious but not too huge. They redid the kitchen and updated it with modern everything. The stove talks back to me, tells me how to cook everything, if I let it. Which I don’t because I’m a fan of hitting buttons and feeling like I have some control over my day-to-day existence in this overly robotic world. Most of us cousins feel the same way. Except maybe Ethan. But he’s so smart it makes my brain hurt to watch him think.

  Taking this sandwich to my couch I prop my feet up on the metal coffee table and open wide for the most delicious meal I’ve had since yesterday. Tastes so good because it’s mine. This loft. The furniture. All paid for by yours truly. There’s a lot of pride in that for a man, especially a guy like me. You don’t become a director because you have a small ego.

  I pay my parents market-value rent, same price as the guy before me who wasn’t blood. Mom objected but I fought her on it and I could tell Dad was impressed. It was he who finally got her to set her gavel down.

  Jason, make him take it at half cost, at least!

  Not a chance. If my son wants to earn his way, he’s a good man.

  We know he’s a good man, but how will he earn enough for his movie?

  He’ll have to figure that out.

  You’re driving me crazy!

  That’s why you still love me, Sarah, I never let you control me.

  Oh, I control you alright.

  Now you’re talking. Max, look away for a second while I kiss your mother.

  So I work for Uncle Jake’s construction company part time. Used to tend bar six nights every week at clubs with huge crowds. Made so much money it shocked even me at first. Then it became a game of how much I could coax out of the older female clientele whose husbands weren’t showing them the love they used to. Got my fair share of phone numbers and more than my fair share of sex. Now I only bartend when they really need me, fill in shifts so I can focus on my dream.

  Blinking over to where I left my phone on the kitchen counter I call out, “Stove, bring me my phone!”

  “I’m sorry, Max. I’m not able to do that.”

  Grinning I dash over, crumbs flying as I snatch it up and dial Natalie.

  Her deep and scratchy voice greets me, “Were your ears ringing?”

  Cocking my eyebrows I ask, “You were talking about me?”

  “Wait, are when the ears are ringing, talking? I thought that was the itchy nose. No, I guess that makes sense. And no, I wasn’t talking or thinking about you. I was thinking about your film. I’m reading everything I can find about indie filmmaking and I have to tell you, I’m intrigued.”

  “Yeah?” Licking my fingers I pad over to my bed. “What’s got you hot?”

  There’s a smile in her voice as she corrects me, “I didn’t say hot.”

  “I did.”

  “Max, that sex was a one-timer.”

  She can play hard to get all she wants.

  I will fuck her again.

  “I know that,” I smirk.

  “Do you?”

  “Totally.”

  “Good, because I am going to love this job. You know how I know? Everything I’ve read hasn’t bored me. Can’t suck up enough of these interviews, the blog posts, the behind-the-scenes location photos, their mistakes, their lessons, all of it. Have you read this stuff?”

  Stretching out on my bed I tell her, “I went to school for this, you know.”

  “But you can teach yourself so much online, too!”

  “Natalie, I have soaked up everything available. It got me through many nights digging gravel at water reclamation plants for my Uncle Jake. It’s why I’m so gung-ho on doing this without a huge budget. I’m not afraid to work, and I want to get dirty on my own, feel the risk.”

  “I like that. Have to admit, I really, really like it.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  She laughs, “Oh no you don’t.”

  “Let me guess…”

  “I dare you. But I have a feeling you’re going to say lingerie.”

  “Nope. I was going to say, since you’ve had your nose in the Internet, that you’re in sweats and a loose-fitting t-shirt, no bra, and maybe some…fuzzy socks?”

  “Mismatched fuzzy socks,” she purrs, teasing me.

  “Am I right?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “I’m not?” I laugh, throwing my arm behind my head. “Are you in lingerie?”

  She pauses, “Okay, you guessed right. And now I just think you’re stalking me outside of my window.”

  “You’re really wearing fuzzy socks?”

  “Yes.”

  “If I were outside your window would you let me in?”

  “No, I would call the cops.”

  “Would they join us in bed?”

  “You’re mental,” she laughs. After some silence where I wonder if she hung up—that would make it three people who did today—Natalie asks, “What’re you wearing?”

  Smiling to myself I use my deepest voice to say unsexy things. “Sweats, a loose fitting t-shirt and no socks. I refuse to go fuzzy.”

  “Yo
u’re missing out.”

  “On your company, yes I am. Because I’m in bed right now.”

  More silence before she says, “If we’re going to bring your creative vision to life, we need to stay platonic.”

  “Totally agree.”

  “Where do you live?”

  Sliding my hand under the elastic I reach for my erection, eyes growing heavier as I give her the address. Before we hang up, my producer informs me, “This means nothing, just so we’re clear. This is only because I have pent up excitement that needs to come out.”

  “I understand. Where do you live?”

  “The Highlands. Twenty minutes with traffic.”

  “And there’s always traffic. See you soon, Natalie.”

  She hangs up without a goodbye. I pull the phone from my ear and stare at it with my shaking head. “Where are people’s manners?” Amused, I stare at the ceiling, stroking myself until I hear a knock on the door. A man has to have practice not to chafe after that much time. It takes a gentle touch, then a few hard tugs, some teeth gritting and more soft caresses.

  Fuck, I love my cock.

  Jumping off the bed and adjusting my sweatpants I stroll to the front door, raking my hair back with a smirk. It’s not on purpose, but it has purpose.

  Unlocking the deadbolt I lock eyes with the woman who drove all the way over to make me happy. “Hey.”

  CHAPTER 8

  N ATALIE

  “Hey,” I reply, grazing his body with a hungry look. “I see you’re ready for me.”

  He chuckles, “Didn’t think you’re a woman who likes to wait,” looking dangerously handsome in a graphic T that has a photo of the rockstar Gabriel Cocker on it.

  He opens the door wider on a sparsely decorated loft. It’s a one story building and his neighbors seem to be vacant office spaces.

  Strolling in, I glance around his quintessential bachelor pad. Movie posters adorn the walls. On the far left is a nice kitchen and on the middle right is a door I assume that leads to a bathroom, bookshelves built in the wall next to it. Just beyond that is a divider where the end of an unmade bed peeks out.

  “Hmmm, these are all old films.” I stop in front of the famous Jaws poster. “A classic.”

  Max strolls up to gaze at it, too. “I saw this great documentary about Spielberg when I was a boy. Coppola, Lucas, De Palma, Spielberg, all shooting pool like normal guys but every one of them became successful because they stood by their visions. I sat there listening to their camaraderie, how they goofed around and always hung out together, and how they critiqued each other’s work. I wanted to be there with them, one of them. Haven’t found anybody like that.”