Cocky Rockstar: Gabriel Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 10)

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Cocky Rockstar: Gabriel Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 10) Page 5

by Faleena Hopkins


  “That’s worked out real well,” I growl, heading for the guy on the right who captured the slap.

  Paige leaps up and grabs my wrist. “No, don’t! Let’s just eat!”

  “First let me get that…” I lunge as he’s leaving and snatch his camera from him, throwing it to the ground and stepping on it multiple times with all of my strength. “Camera,” I finish with a smirk.

  Ben strolls up in his nicest jeans, boots, and button-up shirt — like he’s going to a wedding or something — and he’s holding the other squirming photographer by the collar. “Lose this?”

  “Oh Jeezus!” I laugh despite myself. “You’re not giving up, are you? Yeah, give me that.”

  He tosses the paparazzi guy at me and I snatch his camera too. “No!” he grunts, but Ben grabs and throws him backward. I kick the first one with the bottom of my shoe, pushing him. Not too hard where I break anything. Just hurrying his exit.

  They take off, one yelling, “I’m going to sue you!”

  “I don’t fuckin’ care, you leech! Be damn sure your record is clean before you come after me!”

  The restaurant is silent.

  Everyone’s watching.

  Paige has never seen anything like this.

  But Ben and I do this shit all the time. Only difference is never has a girl come between us. The fact that he stuck around after I left him in the parking lot, tells me he’s serious about wanting her.

  And I don’t like that at all.

  The manager apologies and asks, “Can I offer you a bottle of wine on the house?”

  Ben and I are staring at each other because he’s wondering if he should leave or take a seat.

  Locked on Ben I tell the manager, “Couple of your best local beers and whatever the unhappy lady is having,” letting him know I’m not kicking him out but he’d better watch himself.

  The three of us glance to Paige for her order. Her pretty eyes flit from my face to Ben’s and back. “I need a shot of tequila.”

  “Oh shit,” chuckles Ben.

  I clap him on the shoulder and tell the manager, “Make it three.”

  PAIGE

  It feels like these two are competing for my attention. Gabriel doesn’t even like me. Ben hit me with his truck on purpose. These are a couple of way too good-looking, bizarre guys with ulterior motives that make no sense to me, but then again…I’m a little drunk now.

  Ben is on my left and Gabriel on my right. They’re laughing and one-upping each other with stories from their childhood, and I keep finding myself gazing at Gabriel more. He has kaleidoscope eyes with an amber streak in one. Other than that little splash, they’re pale green on the inside, lighter than I’ve seen on anyone, and the irises are lined with forest green. When he laughs they catch fire.

  “I rode a motorcycle before you,” Gabriel smirks, using his freshly refilled shot glass as a pointer.

  Ben chuckles, his body relaxed, his shot glass held against his lips. “That’s because I had a quad at the ranch. You can’t ride a fucking street bike on three hundred acres of unpaved land.”

  “Half that acreage was cut into by that pansy-ass retreat before you were born! How ‘bout you cut that number to its rightful size?”

  “It’s huge and you know it.”

  “Not as big as mine.”

  They’re smirking at each other like they could either fight or start cracking up. Tension is thick. Takes me a second to realize they’re not talking about land anymore. They’re literally comparing penis size, so I cough and speak up for the first time in ten minutes. “I hosted a retreat in Costa Rica once. They’re so great for the soul. What kind do you have there?”

  Ben’s eyebrows rise up a little as he looks at me. “It’s changed over the years. We’ve done yoga, vegan living, even Ayahuasca.”

  My shot is on the table, finger toying with its rim. “I teach yoga.”

  Ben smiles, “I know. I was at your studio, remember?”

  I laugh, “Oh yeah,” my stomach warmed by booze and a delicious meal.

  Gabriel’s not amused though. He sets his glass down and leans forward. “When were you at her studio?”

  I ask Ben, “What is Ayahuasca? I’ve heard the name. Jordanna mentioned it once. Isn’t it illegal?”

  “No, it’s a healing ritual that a shaman guides you through where you drink a tea and—”

  Gabriel cuts him off, “And everyone sits in a tent, pukes into these buckets and hallucinates. It’s fucking gross.”

  I make a face. “They vomit?”

  Ben shrugs, “You’re detoxing. It’s removing everything you’re holding onto so you can see your truth.”

  “What a load of crap,” Gabriel mutters.

  Tracing the rim of my tiny glass with my fingertip, I look at the raven-haired singer and argue, “I think drugs are a path to the spiritual plane. The one we’ll return to once we leave here. I think that’s why some people become addicted, because they’re touching base with the truth of all things – love. The only problem is that all of us are here for a reason, to learn and grow and negotiate a path for ourselves despite all that life throws at us, to define who we are and finish the contract we made before we were born. We’re not supposed to live in the spiritual plane in our human forms. If we visit too often we start to die. That’s why addicts look like corpses after a while, they’re surfing both worlds and their bodies can’t survive it.” I pause and bring the glass to my lips on a shrug, “But if you can visit for a little while and not get sucked in, you might gain clarity toward your purpose. It’s a dangerously thin tightrope only some can walk without falling.”

  Gabriel is staring at me with such intensity that a warmth washes over me as I look at him, my drunken speech over and me sitting here realizing I just rambled a little too much. I glance to Ben and see he’s looking at me in exactly the same way.

  “I don’t know why I said all that.”

  Gabriel says, “Makes sense to me.”

  Ben holds his glass out. “Let’s drink to spiritual tightropes.”

  We bring our glasses together and the sound feels like a tear ripping something apart.

  Our waiter approaches with the dessert menu. “Can I bring you coffee?”

  “Another round,” Ben tells him.

  Gabriel nods.

  I shake my head. “I can’t. I feel woozy.”

  “Only two then,” Gabriel tells him, reaching for my hand that’s resting on the table.

  I glance to Ben whose tense gaze has dropped to our entwining fingers.

  I’ve got to get out of here. Letting go of Gabriel’s fingers I announce a little too loudly, “I have to make a phone call!”

  Ben climbs out first. Gabriel glares at him as Ben offers his hand to help me stand.

  I take it and croak, “Thank you.”

  His eyes are saying all kinds of sexual things as he smirks, “Anytime.”

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  As soon as I’m in the only place where those two men cannot go, I dig my phone out and call Shelby. She doesn’t answer at first and I tap my foot on the ladies room tile, heart racing and vision skewed by alcohol.

  “How’d it go?”

  “Shelbs! Thank God! I thought you had your ringer off or something!”

  She tells her boyfriend, “Hit pause, Carter.” Coming back to me, she explains, “We’re watching a movie so I didn’t hear it vibrate at first. I saw Gabriel kiss you! You’re going to die when you see the photo. I’ll send it after we get off the phone. Tell me everything!” Her boyfriend groans loudly. “Tell me everything in summary form!”

  I give her the breakdown of my crazy night, the hand-touching competition as a finale. “What do I do?”

  Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, she says, “You enjoy it! His cousin is equally as hot as Gabriel although in a more rugged way, obviously. But Paige, if they’re fighting over you, you know what I say? May the best man win!”

  I moan,
“You don’t understand. I am not in a place where I can deal with this right now.”

  “Why not?”

  Staring at the wall I freeze. “Because, I’m very busy.”

  Laughing, she says, “You are not! You haven’t been on a date in like six months. All you do is work and read, work and read, work and read. I’m sorry, but you need this right now. I have to go. Carter just put his hand down my pants.” She hangs up.

  Muttering to myself, “Well, that’s one way to get her attention, Carter,” I turn to the mirror and pause.

  Those two guys are really fighting over me for their own egos. I’m nothing special. Just a normal girl with a so-so face and huge fucking problems. I’m not even going to reapply my lipstick. What’s the point?

  Walking back through the restaurant I turn a corner and see Gabriel leaning over our table, furious.

  Ben isn’t taking the bait. He’s sitting back with a confident, relaxed look. “You’re too volatile for her, Gabriel.”

  I clear my throat to make my approach known.

  Their heads turns at the same time, both wondering how much I overheard and neither asking. It takes my breath away how handsome they both are.

  Every move Gabriel makes has the grace of a panther and he kind of looks like one, too, with his black hair, black wardrobe and ethereal eyes.

  Ben is like a Grizzly bear with his soft brown hair and seemingly harmless resting face, but this morning I saw how he is when poked.

  These two in a cage would be a scary thing to behold.

  But panthers are quicker, and Gabriel rises out first to take my hand and guide me back to my place in the booth. But before he does he pauses, eyes locked with mine.

  “I ordered you one of all the desserts.”

  “Every single one of them?”

  “Didn’t know which you liked,” he smirks, bringing my fingers to his lips.

  Ben groans, “Come on! Laying it on a little thick!”

  Gabriel ignores him, but his eyes flicker. I swallow hard and slide onto the leather. Their shot glasses are empty.

  “I’ll have one more shot.” I mutter, overwhelmed.

  Ben decides this is his moment — he’ll be the one to fetch me that drink. He flies out of the booth, says “I’ll be right back,” and strolls to tell the waiter what I need. His posture says he’s proud of himself for beating his cousin to it.

  Gabriel grabs my clutch bag and my hand and yanks me out of the booth, saying under his breath, “Come on!”

  My high heels threaten to topple me onto the carpet as I’m half-dragged along. “What are you doing? You’re not leaving him here, are you?”

  “Fuck yes I am!” Gabriel growls, pushing the back door open and digging his phone from his pocket and dials.

  “My heels!”

  He looks at my feet, stops and picks me up before I can react. “Hold this to my ear!”

  I do as I’m told as he rushes us around the side of the building, me bouncing in his arms. “Mags! You gave them my credit card number? Well, do it. I just took off out the emergency exit, and I need to pay the bill. Do it now! I’m hanging up!” He looks at me. “Hang up for me.”

  I hear her say, “I swear, this job is never boring,” right before I hang up.

  He jerks his chin at the driver waiting in a reserved spot by the front door, and whisper-yells, “Start the car!”

  Setting me down with all the grace a panther is known for, he whips open the door and ushers me in.

  I scoot over in a hurry. “I can’t believe we’re doing this!”

  Gabriel flies into the stretch limo, shouts, “Drive!” and slams the heavy door as we screech away.

  GABRIEL

  Spinning around on the leather bench seat I watch Ben running out of the restaurant, searching for us, and mutter to myself, “Oh, I’m gonna hear about this.”

  “From who?” Paige asks, those smoky brown eyes of hers fixed on me. The more she drank the more her talons retracted and the real Paige came out. Everything she had to say was interesting, and she didn’t just talk for no reason. During our meal she’d listen and add her opinions and ideas, just like she did with that philosophy on why people do drugs. I’m trying to remember why I called her a bitch, but I’ve got her intoxicating scent in my nostrils and on my clothes from when I carried her, so the reason is buried in the excitement of our escape.

  Her lavender dress is hiked up on her left thigh. She sees me looking at her bare knee and reaches to cover up. Delicate fingers push the fabric down and that subtle move is more erotic to me than when that groupie snapped her hot pink garter belt against her hip last Monday night.

  “You didn’t answer me.”

  “What did you say?” I’m staring at her lips. This girl pisses me off as much as she turns me on.

  “Who are you going to hear about this from?”

  My hand hovers near her leg. Her breath hitches. Both of us are watching my fingers, wondering what I’m going to do. I’m waiting for her permission or a sign that she’s not going to slap me again. Pulling my hand away I rake my hair back and attempt to relax in my seat despite the erection pushing on my zipper.

  “I liked what you said about drugs and spirituality.”

  “Are you teasing me, Gabriel?”

  “No.”

  “You mean what you’re saying?”

  “Yeah,” I frown, holding her curious look. She makes me nervous. Now that I’m alone with her I don’t know what to do if it’s not to seduce her. So I decide to try.

  As my hand heads her way again she grabs it, gently but still firm, and lays it on my thigh. “Don’t. I’m sure you hear the word ‘yes’ all the time. But I don’t look at sex like a lot of people do.”

  My eyebrows twist my forehead. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

  Paige laughs, “That’s a conversation I’ll save for another day.”

  “You think there will be another day?”

  “No,” she flatly says, then looks out the window as if the subject is closed.

  I stare at the side of her beautiful face, every curve delicate. She’s not model pretty or trashy hot. She feels like warm milk, especially with that soothing voice of hers. Even when she’s nervous, something about her feels grounded and centered. Like she doesn’t need my opinion of her to tell her who she is. In fact, she doesn’t give a shit what I think about her. Never met a woman like that before. Ever.

  “You been teaching yoga long?”

  Glancing over to see if I’m really asking or just baiting her, she decides I’m worth a response and says, “Three years, but I’ve been practicing since I was fifteen.”

  She pauses to see if I’m bored.

  I cock my head to communicate that I want her to continue, go deeper with her answer.

  A fresh, shy smile appears and she takes a purposeful breath. “Some very difficult things happened in my family when I was a kid. I needed a way to find peace. Therapy didn’t seem cool – I was just a teenager.”

  “Right,” I nod.

  “So I went to a yoga class and found that when I was forced to pay attention to my body, everything sort of went away. Things didn’t feel insurmountable to me anymore. Holding the Warrior poses gave me a sense of inner strength, which is exactly what they’re meant to do. Holding stretches for long periods of time helped me release tension and remember who I am, that peace of mind starts with me.” She thinks a moment and sighs, “I’m glad you asked me this because I’ve forgotten lately. When I was in class as a fifteen-year-old, it was the first time where I wasn’t thinking about anything else but my Self, in the literal and spiritual sense of the word. Until then I was always thinking about everyone else and it was exhausting!” Searching my eyes to see if I understand she touches between her breasts. “I was able to get in touch with the still, small voice in here, the one who always knows what to do.”

  “Did it make your family problems go away?”

  A shadow passes over Paige’s eyes and she gives a
regretful, tiny, shake of her head. “No. But it gave me a way to deal with them. It’s all about perception. If you feel like everything is terrible, then it is.” Thoughts pass over her eyes as she turns and stares ahead.

  “You okay?”

  “Mmm.”

  Yeah, I didn’t believe that for a second. But as I go to ask her what’s on her mind the glass divider lowers. “Excuse me Mr. Cocker, is there anywhere you want to go?”

  “Ha! We’re just driving around aimlessly, aren’t we? You know what, take us to the old mill in Roswell.”

  Paige glances to me in surprise. “That’s not part of the contest thingy.”

  “Thingy?” I smile as I dig my phone out. I’ve got text messages from Ben, Maggie and Elijah. “We’ve left that contest thingy behind a long time ago, Paige. Hang on, I have to reply to these.”

  To Ben:

  Of course I paid the check. I’m sneaky but I’m not a dick. You’re the dick.

  To Maggie:

  Date’s going better than planned. Now leave me alone.

  But as I start typing a response to my brother, my thumbs won’t move until I put it on airplane mode. Guess this resentment to his not being there tomorrow night isn’t dead yet. “First time I’ve done this in months.”

  “What?” Paige asks.

  “Turned my phone off.” I rise off the seat to slide it into my back pocket. Meeting her eyes I hold her confused look. “You think I’m playing you?”

  “Yes.”

  I stare out the window wondering how to convince her. “Alright ask me anything you want.” We lock eyes and I give her a lopsided smile that I know the ladies love. “Anything you want, ask. I won’t lie.”

  “When was the last time you slept with someone?”

  “Can’t remember.”

  “You said you wouldn’t lie!”

  Adjusting in the seat I shrug, “Not lying. I never sleep with anyone. They get attached.”

  She blinks as comprehension drifts in. “Oh. But I didn’t mean that. Although that’s good information because wow on so many levels. I meant sex, Gabriel.”

 

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