Cocky Romantic: A Hot Romantic Comedy Stand Alone (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 4)

by Faleena Hopkins

  “Does she?”

  “And two, she’s not my type at all.”

  A triumphant spark lights his eyes. “Exactly.” Throwing his arm around my shoulder he starts us walking again, but I’m not moving fast now. He’s just punched my psyche in the nuts. “I’m getting laid tonight. You?”

  I don’t even hear him.

  He repeats it. “Jason. Laid. You. Me. Couple of hot chicks. Yes or no?”

  Staring into the distance I mumble, “Not in the mood.”

  “Fuhhhhhhck. Go back to her then. Can’t give up after all that work you’ve put into her, huh? You know what Jason, you’re so ready for marriage and kids it’s disgusting. Now I know why Jaxson picked you for that surprise.”

  Grimacing I argue, “Are you kidding? There’s no way I want to marry Simone.”

  He laughs, “Then what the hell are you doing with her?”

  We stare at each other. “Fucking her.”

  “But you want more than that.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So why do you keep chasing bitches? You have some sort of block in here?” He punches my chest.

  “Ouch!”

  “Good. Maybe I got through.”

  He heads off with me not far behind. “Sarah and I don’t get along.”

  “I know,” he smirks. “It’s very entertaining.”

  “Then why are you trying to plant something romantic in my head?”

  From the corners of his eyes he looks at me. “It’s already there. And if you don’t know that, you’re in deeper than you think. Your head is up your ass. I’m trying to get it out.” Looking up he spots a bar. “Let’s go in here.”

  Before I have a chance to reply he’s walked up to a woman lighting a cigarette outside. She smiles. I take the chance to have a moment to myself, leaning against the building and letting my mind travel back to earlier.

  I spread my fingers out and turn it over, closing it slowly with Sarah’s touch on my mind.

  Sarah

  Twice on our way back to the hotel Simone has been stopped by new fans. She posed for pictures with them and said, “Tag me,” before we continued onward. Both times her smile vanished the second they were behind us.

  Normally she’d be floating after a show like that but Jason is all she can think about.

  I know the feeling.

  “Can you believe how he talked to me?”

  When she’s pissed those long legs of hers move fast.

  Struggling to keep up with her, I mutter, “I was wondering when you were going to say something.”

  “I was in shock. I mean, one minute he’s like a puppy dog, and the next he’s telling me off!”

  “I don’t think he ever acted like a puppy dog. His ego is too big.”

  “Oh please! He was totally following me around everywhere. Everything I asked for he gave me. He’s wanted to spend every moment with me since I arrived in Atlanta! He was just like all of them!”

  I wince because the part of me that wants her not to clump Jason Cocker with the rest of her cadavers is growing harder to ignore.

  “You attacked him, Simone. And you told off Justin. I think that was the big mistake.”

  She whips around and jabs my collarbone with her index finger, forcing me to stop. “You guys were holding hands while I was right there!”

  “Exactly! You were there in full view. Do you really think I’d try and steal someone from you when you’re about to do your most important set yet?!”

  “I don’t know, Sarah, first you kissed him and now this!”

  Here’s the thing. I may have a crush on Jason, but I would never stab my best friend in the back. What happened on that stage was totally innocent. I was in awe of her and I reached out. What he said back there in the jazz bar was true.

  “It looks bad, I know! But I had no idea I was holding his hand until afterward! Look at me, Simone! Jason would never want someone like me when he can have you! And you know me at your shows. I’m always holding onto a wall or a curtain or something! I get so anxious when you’re about to sing your first song I have to grab something. This was the first time there was a person to grab!”

  Her expression changes as she admits, “You do always grab onto something.”

  “Right!”

  The battle against acceptance is all over her face. After a long moment, she softens completely. “You didn’t know you were doing that?”

  Holding up my hand like I’m swearing on a Bible, I tell her the truth, “I had no clue. I would never do that to you!”

  She inhales deeply and runs a shaky hand through her hair, staring out at the busy street. “I’m not going back to Atlanta.”

  Blinking at her, I mutter, “Wait, what?”

  With a glint of power flashing into her, Simone nods and crosses her arms. “He threatened to stop working on my song. Well, you know what? Watch him freak out when I leave town.”

  This means I’ll never see him again. Holy shit. Suddenly I feel like someone is strangling me. My voice is choked as I ask, “You don’t want to make sure he gets it right?”

  “Pfft. He can finish it without me. All he has to do is hire a boy’s choir right?”

  “Right…?”

  “I trust him to pick a good one.”

  Say what?

  She never trusts anyone with anything before running it by her first.

  I should know. She micro-manages my job, and I’m fucking good at what I do.

  I find myself looking for the Cocker twins. Drunken strangers are all I see for blocks in every direction. This city has a liquor problem. Or solution. Whatever way you want to spin it.

  When she hasn’t come up for air from her phone, I struggle against a huge sense of loss to ask her, “What are you doing?”

  “Searching for our plane reservations,” she mumbles, index finger scrolling.

  “Why aren’t you asking me…”

  “Found ‘em!” she announces with a triumphant grin. Peering over the screen I see that she’s dialing the record company’s point-man. She throws me a wicked smile. “Mark? It’s Simone.” After a pause, she exclaims, “The show was fantastic! Standing ovation. There are seats at the Civic, like a theater. Well, it’s called Civic Theater so that makes sense I guess. But I loved it. And guess what? I led with the single — a cappella!” On a flirtatious laugh she explains, “I knew I had to win them over first and then lay out my old stuff, because you know it isn’t as good as the new album.” She laughs at something he says. “Exactly! Get ready for a huge avalanche of money coming your way. Oh, Mark…can you help me with something? We booked a flight from New Orleans back to Atlanta but could you pretty please with a cherry on top change that for me so that our flight is to Detroit?” Meeting my eyes like she’s the queen of the world now and isn’t it fun, she waits for him to answer. “Sure, have your assistant handle it. Perfect. I love it!” There’s a final pause as he asks the million-dollar question. Her reply is said with a voice as hot and sexy as if it were melted wax. “No, I think Jason can finish the single for me. I trust him, don’t you? Oh, I’ve got another call coming from Capital Records. Talk soon.” She hangs up as he freaks out. I didn’t have to hear him to know that sent him rushing to bend over and take it up the ass with a cucumber if she wanted him to.

  “Oh, you’re good,” I breathe, impressed.

  “Don’t hate the player,” she grins. “Hate the game the men designed.”

  “But why didn’t you let me change the flight? I do all that stuff.”

  Rolling her eyes, she slides her phone into her clutch bag. “He needs to start earning his money. And I wanted to have a little fun.” On a wink she adds, “Now let’s see if we can’t get you laid tonight.”

  “What? No, I—”

  “Sarah, we’re in the party capital of the South. There are a ton of hot guys and I want to celebrate my night. I’m not going back to the hotel right now.” She grabs my hand and virtually drags me up the street to look for bars.
<
br />   “Simone, I’m not in the mood for a second one-night stand.”

  “Mike wasn’t a one-night stand. You dated him for a month!”

  “Two months,” I mutter.

  I never told her what he said to me, but I did tell her it ended after my virginity was given to the bastard.

  “And you’ve been a fucking nun ever since,” she smiles, knocking our shoulders together. “Enough is enough. You, my dear Sarah Daly, are getting laid tonight!!”

  I release her hand as she walks to a bar overflowing with people. Cupping her hand on the window she peers in while I feel my stomach growing more queasy by the second.

  “Come on,” I groan. “It’s been a long day. I’ll have a drink but please don’t play matchmaker.”

  She totally ignores me, but I know she heard. She’s completely forgotten the hours that preceded her performance where she made my life hell. I haven’t eaten since lunch.

  The queen of drama always bounces back from her escapades because they are a part of her bone marrow.

  I don’t bounce.

  I need to lay low and regroup like all good introverts do after there’s been too much excitement.

  “Holy shit,” she whisper-yells. “This place is amazing. Come on!”

  When I don’t follow her, she hurries to me and takes my hand again. “Noooooo,” I moan.

  “You said you’d get a drink.” Looking at me she freezes and grabs my handbag. “Refresh your lipstick. You look like a ghost.”

  “I’m tired!” My objection is again ignored as she thrusts Blushing Berry into my unwilling hand. Walking to the window so I have a reflection to work off of, I apply it and smack my lips.

  She appraises me and by the sparkle in her smile, I’ve won her approval. “Oooooh, I so need this.”

  Tugged inside by force I remind her, “I’m only here for cocktails!”

  “Totally,” she nods, pushing us through the crowd. “Cock…tails.” She throws me a smile that means danger.

  Jason

  Justin mutters, “Drunk women are so hot.”

  I glance to the chicks he’s eyeing with sarcasm just in time to see one hurl red-tinged vomit onto the sidewalk a few businesses down, the other holding her hair faster than you can say Voodoo.

  My brother and I do an about-face and shake our heads. “Fucking gross,” I agree.

  “Let’s go in here.” He jogs his head to a packed bar.

  “I’m in,” I mutter, following him inside our fourth bar since I told Simone that I am over her. We’re now both a little hammered and quieter than normal.

  More observant. Less patient.

  Justin shoves a guy out of the way so we can get to the bar. A few four-letter words are slung at the back of his head and I reach over and push the guy back as he comes at my brother. He goes to shout at me then freezes in confusion. Twins freak people out when alcohol is involved. He sputters something I can’t make out and don’t care to. It’s enough of a distraction for him to leave us alone.

  At the bar Justin motions to the female bartender. She looks like she could use a drink herself. This place is fucking slammed and everyone’s talking over each other in order to be heard. If there’s music playing underneath the cacophony of voices, it can’t compete.

  “Makers Mark,” Justin shouts. “Two. Neat. Make ‘em doubles.”

  She nods and her darkly-lined eyes flicker to my face. She glances between us once more and heads to the bottles.

  Those tits are so good there has to be an ass to match. I can’t see it from here. Justin leans to look and turns to me, shaking his head. “Flat,” he mutters.

  Despite my irritable mood, I chuckle because he knew what I was thinking. Justin and I are closer than any of our brothers are with each other.

  Jaxson and Jett are tight and always have been, but for years now Jett’s been gone from Georgia except for special occasions. He’s on the road with his MC, The Ciphers, fighting battles weaker people can’t fight for themselves.

  Jake and Jeremy always traveled together since they were the youngest of us six brothers, but now that Jeremy’s in the Marines and Jake got married, their relationship isn’t what it used to be, and never will be again.

  Justin and I share a bond only other twins understand. Even though we’re different, there’s a slice of us the other holds and will never ever let go of.

  And we’re definitely psychically connected. I think it comes through more when we’re intoxicated and reason takes a backseat to instinct.

  “Too bad.”

  He shrugs and glances in the other direction at the same time I do.

  I can’t fucking believe what I’m seeing.

  On the table in the corner are Simone and Sarah dancing seductively, their faces tilted downward. “What the fuck,” I growl as Justin and I watch.

  Rising on my toes I try to get a look at who their audience is. Three good-looking but obviously un-evolved jock-looking guys are enjoying the show. Two are staring at the rising star. The third – some fuckhead with black hair and blue eyes, is locked on Sarah.

  A sharp pang of jealousy rips into me and I sway into my brother from the severity of it. I start for them but Justin grabs my arm with all of his strength.

  Snarling, “Let go!” I try to shake him off.

  He says, in my ear, “Hold on, Jason. Let’s ride this out.”

  Before I lock eyes with him I can feel he’s in for fighting. His head is cooler and he’s saying let’s not rush in and look like amateurs. Off my expression he lets go of me.

  I swear to God I’m almost panting as I glare at the spectacle, waiting for go-time.

  They were dressed as angels and look at them now. My theory was right. The way those two are moving, professional strippers would be jealous.

  Wait a minute. Sarah’s face just turned enough for me to catch a closer look at her smile. It’s awkward and pained. What the hell is she doing? Trying to keep up with Simone?

  The bartender grabs Justin’s credit card and he hands me my glass. Tapping his to mine he sneers, “What’d I tell you about your taste in women?”

  “I’m over her.”

  “So, why are we about to kick the shit out of those guys?” he smirks before taking a drink.

  Locking my eyes onto Sarah I growl, “Look at her. She’s hating every second of that.”

  His eyes narrow and he makes a tsk tsk sound. “Looks like your girl might be a virgin. Not good. I take back what I said.”

  My head nearly flies off my neck swinging back to him. “Just because she doesn’t want to be a fucking stripper?”

  He smiles.

  I make a face and mutter from behind my glass. “Oh… you’re a dick. You were testing me.”

  His laugh weighs heavy with what’s to come. “And it’s so easy, too.” Eyes locking back on Sarah’s swaying body he mutters, “She’s too much of a badass bitch to be untouched, Jason.”

  “I agree.”

  “But she hates this shit.”

  “Agree again.”

  “Sure was fun to see your reaction. Feeling a little possessive of her?”

  “You mean protective.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Justin, why don’t you lick my balls?”

  “Foul,” he smirks. “Ready?”

  “So ready.”

  We down our bourbons and because we’ve already had many, the burn goes down like honey. I hand him my glass and he shoves them at a small guy who happened to be staring at us.

  “Oof!”

  “Make yourself useful,” Justin tells him, and we take off.

  Jason

  There are at least twenty people we have to shove out of the way to make a path.

  The guy leering at Sarah stands up and starts to dance, but since he’s standing on the floor and she’s on the table, he’s at the exact height of her crotch, staring right at it. Freaked out, she backs away and loses her balance, falling backward off the table where she can crack her head ope
n.

  I catch her just in time. “Whoa now,” I snarl.

  Reflexively her arms go around my neck and her eyes lock onto mine in shock. She’s fucking wasted, all blurry and confused by my timely appearance. Within a fraction of a second the realization that I saw her dancing launches into her, clamping her mouth shut as shame flashes across her face.

  “Hey, thanks, man,” the black-haired guy who’s about to die says.

  I set Sarah carefully down because her trembling legs don’t want to hold her up. “You got this?” I ask her.

  She nods.

  It’s noisy and Simone’s so drunk that she didn’t even notice her dancing partner vanished.

  Justin’s waiting for my lead.

  I tap on Simone’s gyrating ass to get her attention. I know this was her idea. Gifted or no, this girl is dead to me.

  As she turns around the black-hair fuckhead starts for Sarah.

  “Jason…” Justin snarls.

  I turn just in time to punch the guy before his hands lock onto Sarah’s hips.

  He reels back and does a dog-after-a-bath head shake, staring at me. His eyes shift to fury and suddenly as if they’re one person, the two guys who were sitting down watching Simone rise up to get into the action.

  Simone shouts, “Jason?!!”

  She’s just realized I’m not a mirage.

  Justin clocks one of the guys while I punch the black-haired one, then turn and hit the third. The fight gets gruesome quick because other guys itching for a brawl for no reason except their testosterone demands it, jump in, some on our side, some not.

  “Get back!” I yell to the girls as I throw punch after punch, dodging and weaving and taking on whatever drunken slob comes at me. Simone and Sarah push their backsides into the crowd behind them to escape the building eruption of fists.

  I feel a punch in my side and grab the guy around his neck to headlock him, slamming my knuckles in his chin while he grunts. Someone grabs me from behind to pull me off the guy and I resist. Then I feel women’s heels flopping against my hips. I look back to discover that Sarah has jumped on the guy’s back and is slapping his head, her little legs flailing and hitting me. He swats her off him and she falls down. I try and go for her but Simone shouts, “Jason!” pointing behind me.