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

by Faleena Hopkins

  Which of course reminds me of Ben.

  That fucking asshole tried to swoop in on my date. He spotted how special she is. He’s no dummy. But I could kill him right now. Just the idea that he tried has jealous possessiveness charging through my veins.

  “Why do you look angry all of a sudden?” Paige asks, pulling up her panties and glancing to her broken dress. “Oh um…”

  I scoop my blazer off the floor and hand it to her. “Wear this.”

  “I need a tissue or something.”

  Digging through the liquor cabinet I discover a supply of cocktail napkins. “Will these do?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Shyly she smiles, folding them and tucking them in. “We should have used a condom.”

  “Ya think?” I mutter before meeting her eyes and seeing the smile disappear from her face. “Sorry, it’s just…we should have.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she chuckles, trying to act like she’s fine.

  But this girl isn’t the type you fuck and don’t worry about afterward like you do those groupies who go from one singer-songwriter to the next, who even fuck whole bands. Those girls get off on the numbers. They’re almost like guys – no real feeling behind it. All they want to do is collect and compare star-level names.

  What Paige and I just did wasn’t like that at all. It had a shitload of feeling to it. I gave her a part of me, I felt it. Now I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like an open wound.

  “I uh…guess I should take you home.”

  Paige pauses and says, “Guess so.”

  She’s staring at me and I can’t look at her. Forcing myself, I offer a smile that doesn’t last. She turns to the window and sighs, tugging my blazer tighter around her.

  “I can’t let my brother see me like this.”

  Frowning I ask, “Why would he?”

  “We live together.”

  Blinking as I picture her greeting him like this, I groan, “No fuckin’ way is that going to happen. Let me think a second.” We ride along in silence until I mutter, “I’ve got it. Hang on. I’m going to call my publicist.” Digging out my phone I call Maggie who answers immediately, the sound of the television in the background.

  “How’d it go?” she asks, not sounding optimistic.

  “I need you. We’re coming to your place.”

  “We?”

  “Paige is with me. I need your help.”

  Alarmed she says, “Come over. Carrie and I are awake.”

  Hanging up I push the button for the divider. As soon as he can hear me I tell him, “Larry, in three blocks, take a right at Defoor. I’ll tell you where to go from there. I don’t remember the number, but I can get there by sight.” He nods and I reach over to Paige who is pretty confused. “Trust me?”

  She nods and takes my hand.

  Running up to the Side-Gabled Cottage Maggie owns, I ring the bell and don’t have to wait long. Carrie stands behind Mags as she answers the door, both in pajama shorts and small tank tops. “Lookin’ good, ladies,” I smile.

  “Cut the crap. What’s up?”

  “I need to borrow you and an outfit. You’re welcome to join us, Carrie. Be better if you did.”

  Maggie crosses her arms and glances to the parallel-parked limo. “Why do you need my clothes for fuck’s sake?”

  “She asked me to tear her dress so I did.”

  The women exchange glances.

  Maggie mutters, “That’s hot.” Then asks her girlfriend, “Why don’t you do that?”

  “I’ll go to the gym and bulk up so I have that kind of strength.” Carrie rolls her eyes. “Give me a break!”

  Maggie sighs, “You and your overly gratuitous sex life, Gabriel. Why should I do this?”

  “Paige lives with her brother. She doesn’t want to broadcast how this date went.”

  “Deal with your personal shit on your own. The girls you use up and throw away are not in my job description because if they were I would have to quit from disgust and exhaustion long ago!”

  Lowering my voice I hold her eyes. “Mags, I like this one. I don’t want her embarrassed or ashamed because of what we did. Please help me.”

  She sharpens with surprise, blinks to her girlfriend and tries to form words.

  Carrie takes over. “We’ll get changed and be right out with clothes for her. Is she skinny?”

  “She teaches yoga.”

  “That’s a yes. Well, shit. Okay, I’ve got a sundress that fits anyone. It’ll have to do.”

  “Thank you, Carrie. I’ll wait in the car to make sure she doesn’t feel alone.”

  This astounds Maggie even more, and her jaw drops open but still she can’t form words. Her tongue is normally razor sharp. This is a first.

  Their door stays open as they head inside with Carrie whispering a mocking, “See, miracles do happen.”

  I stroll back to the limo and climb in, taking Paige’s hand as soon as I get settled. Relieved she twines her fingers around mine and we squeeze at the same time. She gives me a small smile and my heart reacts immediately.

  This is fucking strange. Never had this happen to me.

  I glance over and try to figure her out. She meets my eyes. “Thank you.”

  “I pay her so she has to help. It’s not a big deal.”

  Paige sucks on her lips and stares out the window.

  We watch Carrie stand by while Maggie locks up.

  “Are they together?”

  “Yep.”

  The girls climb in and take the bench seat opposite ours. “Hi Paige, we talked on the phone. I’m Maggie. This is my girlfriend, Carrie.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Paige says.

  Carrie’s eyes are dancing and she runs a hand through her pink hair, biting her bottom lip as Maggie hands over the new dress. Paige looks around like she’s unsure if she should change right here.

  She whispers like she feels whorish, “This is very awkward for me,” and releases my hand.

  To give her the facade of privacy, the three of us avert our eyes.

  “What’s the plan?” Carrie asks.

  Mags is so smart she’s already figured my strategy out for the most part. As I stare out the window with my elbow on the armrest she explains, “We had a party at my place. You guys came over after you had dinner. My dog tore your dress.”

  I interrupt, “I was going to say that I spilled red wine on her and ruined it.”

  “How do you explain the rip?”

  “Why would she keep it?”

  Paige sighs, “You can look now. The red wine is perfect. I’ll use that. Bobby won’t like the other one.”

  I grumble, “It makes it look like I didn’t protect her from the dog!”

  Maggie throws her hands up, “Fine!”

  “Because if a dog attacked her, I would do something about it.”

  “Gabriel, there is no dog! Calm down.”

  Mumbling a few cuss words I lean back on the armrest and stare out as the buildings blur up 14th Street. Mags lives on the outskirts of West Midtown near the apartment Hannah used to share with our cousin Emma. We’ve got fifteen minutes before we get to Inman Park.

  Carrie asks, “Did you guys have fun?” trying to make conversation.

  Paige and I share a look.

  She smiles, “It’s…been interesting.”

  PAIGE

  To give the story credibility, Maggie and Carrie are walking up to my apartment with us. Gabriel almost stayed in the car but changed his mind at the last minute. I don’t know why. Ben was right when he warned me that his cousin was volatile. Gabriel runs so hot and cold my skin doesn’t know if it’s burned or frozen.

  The girlfriends are laughing like the fake party is still going on. I’m smiling, trying to act the part, but I can’t stop checking in on Gabriel. Every time I look back at him he’s staring at me with this expression I can’t understand. On the elevator he even reached out and caressed my arm, then shoved his hands in his pockets like he hadn’t meant to do that. Or like it
was an obligation. Which just feels awful.

  “This is me on the right,” I say, pointing my chin at it as I dig for my keys. “Can’t believe I fit this much stuff into such a tiny bag. Here they are.”

  Sliding the key in I hold my breath preparing to lie to my brother.

  Our modestly decorated living room is dark, as is the kitchen, so the girlfriends quiet with some overacted, “Shhhhhh,” like they’re drunk.

  They’re enjoying this.

  Unlike me.

  I’m about to tell them that they can go, that he’s asleep so there’s no need to explain my outfit or the late hour. But then I see that the door to his bedroom is open. My head cocks left as I walk down the hall, leaving them forgotten behind me as my heart begins to pound.

  He has to be home. It’s Thursday and his favorite television shows are on tonight.

  Not only that but he has no money to go out.

  I tentatively say, “Bobby?” while pushing the door open wider.

  His bed is as empty as the room.

  My shoulders slump as I lean against the wall, groaning, “Oh no!”

  Gabriel’s voice jolts my body into action. “He’s not here?”

  Turning around I see him in the doorframe to my brother’s room. “Oh! You scared me. Uh, I guess he went to his friend’s house. They…play games. It runs late sometimes,” I explain with a forced smile.

  “Video games?”

  “Something like that.”

  Gabriel raises his voice to tell the girlfriends, “Coast is clear. Stop acting like you’re wasted.” There’s a smile in his voice.

  I overhear Maggie telling Carrie, “You were good!”

  “You think so? I thought the stumble as we walked in felt real.”

  “It was very convincing. I reached out for you.”

  “I know! You weren’t just pretending?”

  “No, I thought you were really falling.”

  Gabriel and I are staring at each other, listening to them.

  Amused he shakes his head.

  All I want to do is check my jewelry box to make sure everything is still there.

  “So this is where you live?” He walks into the hall like he’s going to explore my room next.

  I run in front of him. “Don’t go in there. It’s a mess.”

  Maggie calls out, “Gabriel, I need to get home.”

  I think she did that to save me. Gay or straight, no woman wants someone we’re attracted to in our bedrooms until we’re damn ready.

  He glances to a print of Hawaii on the wall. “This yours?”

  “Look,” I sigh, glancing to the tattered edges of my beach poster. “I know this dinky apartment is laughable compared to wherever you must live. So let’s not do this and just say goodnight. I’m very tired.”

  He frowns, sexy hair falling over his kaleidoscope eyes. “You’re funny, Paige. You’re trying to get rid of me.”

  “Am I the first girl to do that?” I chuckle, joking.

  With total seriousness he says, “Yes,” and holds my look before he turns and strolls out of my apartment. Maggie and Carrie follow him, and they send awkward waves my way.

  As the door’s about to close, Maggie sticks her curly head back in. “You’re still coming to the concert?”

  God, I forget all about it.

  “I don’t know,” I admit.

  She frowns. “Goodnight Paige.”

  The closing click of the door behind her is the loneliest sound I’ve ever heard.

  I run into my room, intent on screaming and crying my heart out if I find even one gold necklace missing. I nearly break the hinges as I open my beloved jewelry box. Rifling through it my heart is slamming. But everything’s here. Even the box with the tiny emeralds Grandma gave me so that I might make earrings out of them one day. Together they’re smaller than half an eraser so I don’t know if they have any value, but I bet Bobby would know.

  And yet…they’re here.

  In confusion I put the jewelry box back on my old dresser, eyes darting around in confusion until I spot a post-it note on my unmade bed. Grabbing it I read Bobby’s messy scrawl.

  Hey sis, hope you had fun. I went to Uncle Taylor’s to get away for a couple days and see if he can front us the cash before Monday comes. Love you, Bobby

  Re-reading it several times I burst into happy tears and crumple the note to my chest. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, God! Thank you!”

  PAIGE

  Shelby grabs my hand and squeezes hard as Gabriel looks right at me as he sings, concert spotlights dancing over his gorgeous face, black tank top, leather pants, hot as hell boots. The band is totally into it, too, playing behind him with ecstasy on their faces. Gabriel focuses on the audience again as he leaves our side of the mosh pit and walks stage right, leaning into the mic, his deep voice sending shivers into every female here.

  I lean over to whisper to Shelby, “Don’t get excited for me! He’s looking at everyone!”

  With a knowing grin she cups her hand over my ear. “Take your head out of your ass.”

  Security put us here when we arrived. Maggie orchestrated that, introducing me as a friend, and not ‘the contest winner,’ which I appreciated. After what she did for me last night I wouldn’t want her to suddenly go back to treating me like a stranger. She must feel bad for me, knowing that it’s not going anywhere between he and I, even though we had sex. As his publicist and friend I bet she sees a lot of casualties in his romantic life.

  But when she looked at me with kindness I knew in my heart that they had talked about me, and that he’d instructed her to treat me with respect. He’s letting me down gently which I appreciate. Makes it feel less trashy what we did.

  But during the show he’s locked his beautiful eyes onto me so many times it’s becoming difficult not to hope there might be more to it than that. Am I kidding myself? He’s got over two million followers on all the major social media outlets. Not combined but on each one! The number of women – and men! – offering themselves up for a night with him is extremely intimidating. Who am I to think I’m special?

  God, look at him. The way he owns that stage is pure star. He works the crowd like they’re his instruments. And then out of nowhere he hits these high notes you’d think were impossible for a guy with a voice as deep as his.

  He’s right.

  Gabriel was born to be a superstar.

  I feel dizzy watching him.

  And every time it hits me that he’s leaving for Canada soon, my heart shrivels.

  Shelby shouts, “Oh, I was hoping they’d be here!” as five female hip-hop dancers bounce onto the stage with practiced, sexually explicit moves. I recognize them from his videos, too. One leaves the others and goes right up to him. She’s gyrating around him as he stares into her eyes, singing like the song is now for her.

  Shelby and I exchange a look as they grind. “You did this to me.”

  She winces and squeezes my hand. “It’s part of the show, that’s all!”

  The girl gives him the sauciest look and bounces back to rejoin her crew as they form a line behind him to enact fantastic moves that make your heart pound.

  They are the music.

  He makes the music.

  How can I compete with that kind of connection?

  Suddenly I’m very aware of the sexy dress I chose to wear. Why did I even try to be someone else? This isn’t me! I’m overselling. Shelby encouraged it when she showed up at my place to get ready. I told her about what happened and she insisted I needed to play up my best attribute – my ass – so that he would leave town thinking about me. But look at those dancers! Their butts are phenomenal, and they’ve got much bigger breasts than I have.

  Shelby looks at me. “Are you comparing bodies?”

  “No!”

  “Yes you are, I can see it in your eyes. I’ve been there, don’t lie to me!”

  “I can’t help it. Look at them!”

  She and I stare at the girls as they grind on each othe
r. She winces and cups her hand over my ear to say, “They’re probably stupid.”

  It’s so funny and ridiculous that I start cracking up. She does, too.

  This is why I need her. Bumping her hip I mimic what those dancers do. We do terrible renditions of their dance but have the most fun trying. Glancing to the stage my smile freezes as Gabriel and I lock eyes. He was watching us. He gives me a wink and turns to hold his right arm up as Existence comes to an end.

  The dancers hit poses and the band crashes an amazing finale out. The audience goes nuts, but I’m more excited than they are.

  That wink was for me.

  It wasn’t in my imagination.

  Shelby grins at me. “I saw!”

  “He winked at me!”

  “I know,” she laughs. “He really did.”

  PAIGE

  Right after the encore Shelbs shouts, “Let’s go backstage before we get trampled. Don’t fight the river! Go with it!”

  We are carried out by the swarm toward the exits and the huge lines at merchandise tables. People are shouting about how good he was. I hear a girl with short hair and a nose piercing say, “You see that dancer who was up on him? That’s Olivia. They were photographed coming out of a hotel in Barcelona together last month!”

  I snap at her, “Why don’t you shut the hell up!!”

  She exchanges a look with her friend.

  Shelby guides me toward a bouncer. “Okay, let’s get you out of here.”

  “I can’t believe I just did that!”

  “Me neither.” We hold up our wristbands to a huge dude with tattoos and a walkie-talkie on his waist. Shelby informs him, “We have backstage passes.”

  He nods and pulls the rope back.

  Backstage is a zoo. Gaffers and lighting technicians running around tearing everything down. Dancers laughing as they pass us, talking about what they did right, and who fucked up which cue. The band’s roadies are stacking gear while the band rests in a room filled with V.I.P.s. There’s booze overflowing, a feast lined against one wall, and Gabriel is nowhere to be seen.