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

by Faleena Hopkins

  “Can you believe him?” she explodes as we rush to the rental car. “Dating me is a mistake? What an ungrateful, egotistical, cocky sonofabitch bastard!”

  “Yeah…” I mutter, fumbling for my keys. “I hate it when people are that full of themselves.”

  “Right?!” She stops at the door. “I need ice cream.”

  Jason

  “Fuck,” I mutter, raking my hair, and tugging the baseball hat back into place.

  Running out the door I scan for their car and find it pulling out of the parking lot, seconds away from joining traffic on the busy street.

  I almost shout Sarah, but catch myself in time.

  “SIMONE!”

  What the fuck are you doing, Jason?

  Have you lost your mind?

  Apparently I have, because I yell it again as loudly as if my life depends on them hearing me.

  The car stops and I run over to the passenger side.

  Simone rolls down the window and I lean in to say, “I’m sorry. Come over to my loft later on.”

  “You’re crazy if you think I’d do that!” she snaps.

  “I mean both of you. A celebration of the album being complete. Let’s bury the hatchet and start over from a professional place. I’ll invite Justin, my brother Jake and his wife Drew. You can invite anyone you want.”

  Simone’s taken aback, but she’s thinking about it. I glance to Sarah and see almond eyes intently watching me. She’s trying to figure out what I’m doing. She’s had that expression a lot today.

  This is a disastrous idea.

  Nothing but chaos can come of it.

  I know that deep down.

  But I’m not about to let Sarah vanish forever. I’m desperate. And fucked, just like Justin said.

  “Come on,” I urge her, with my best smile. “Let’s not end things like this.”

  Simone mutters, “You better buy some really expensive booze.”

  There go her true colors again. Sure, I’ll come Jason, if you pamper me and make it worth my time. How did I not see through that shit for four whole months. I blame my cock. It’s an idiot sometimes.

  “Of course,” I chuckle. “What’s your poison? Vodka, gin, whiskey?”

  “Tequila,” she shoots back with a triumphant smirk.

  “Done.”

  “Nine o’clock!”

  She wiggles her fingers at me as the car takes off.

  I turn and watch it go, locking eyes with Sarah in her rearview mirror for a brief second. Her eyes looked dead. She’s not looking forward to this. Which, after that fight she just witnessed, I can understand.

  “Justin,” I say into the phone as soon as he answers. “How do I get Sarah to realize I’m a good guy?”

  “Don’t ask her to betray her friend.”

  “Fuck! I need another answer.”

  “I don’t know, Jason. Time?”

  “I don’t have time. We just finished the recording. The work is all mine now. They’ll be heading back to Michigan soon. I have to do something.”

  He pauses and I can hear his assistant asking him something. “Later,” he tells her, before coming back to me. “How much do you like this girl?”

  “Enough to picture her having my children.”

  “You’re shitting me. Jesus, are we even related?” he growls under his breath. “Fine. I’ll try and come up with something.”

  Pushing my hat over my eyes to block the waning autumn sunlight, I break the news. “They’re coming to my place tonight. I’m inviting Jake and Drew, too. To celebrate the album.”

  “I’ll be there,” he says without hesitation “I’m in. Let’s make this happen for you.”

  Hanging up I dial our younger brother. “Jake! Party at my place tonight to celebrate!”

  He chuckles, voice deep. “What’s the celebration?”

  “Finished recording a number one hit today.”

  “You’re very confident.”

  “When you hear it, you’ll see.”

  “I can’t come, buddy. Drew’s got the flu and I’m taking care of her.”

  My smile vanishes. “Oh shit, Jake, I’m sorry. Tell her I hope she gets better soon. Need me to pick up anything?”

  “Nah, thanks. I got it,” he says easily. Then his voice changes to mock-possessiveness. “And if anyone’s going to help my wife get better, it’s me.”

  Stifling a laugh, I offer, “Okay cool, I’ll get her some whiskey. And my cock. That’ll clear her flu right up.”

  He laughs outright. “Fuckin’ sicko. I’d like to see you try that. I’ll cut it right off.”

  “Ouch! Never joke about that.”

  “Never joke about my wife again.”

  “You mean your wife and my medicinal cock?”

  “Shut up, Jason,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky you’re not here.”

  My voice changes so he knows this time I’m serious. “She that bad, huh?”

  “Whole body aches. Been throwing up. She’s pale. I hate it. But you guys have fun. I wish we could be there.”

  “Me too, Jake. Talk soon.”

  I spend hours layering the tracks together, and since there are no windows in my studio, I lose track of time. When it hits me that I haven’t looked at the clock, I burst out of my seat and lock up.

  Expensive tequila. She wants it, I’ll get it. But this particular booze is a dangerous choice when it comes to women.

  At the liquor store on the corner of Northside and Seventeenth the backdrop of Atlanta’s skyline sparkles in the distance. I stop a second and take it in. I love this city. I’ve been to Detroit. It’s not boring, that’s for definite. Can I convince her to stay here a while?

  “Yeah, right,” I mutter. “Like she’d live anywhere Simone isn’t.”

  Discouraged by all the obstacles, I yank the door handle and pace through lanes of liquor bottles ranging from ten dollars to two-hundred. Behind the counter are even higher priced options. So that’s where I’m headed. “Two of the Asombrosos. One of both kinds you have here.”

  They never smile at this place, and tonight is no different. As the guy rings me up my mind wanders to the next several hours of uncertainty. I’m on a suicide mission and those bottles are the fuel. But by the rapid beating in my chest, I’m not turning back.

  Sarah

  “You keep staring out the window,” Simone mutters to my back as the hour approaches nine.

  On a wary shrug I tell her, “I’ve been ready to go. Am I supposed to watch you changing outfits?”

  While slipping the spaghetti straps of a tight, red dress onto her slender shoulders, she explains away my lack of style, “Well you only ever bring a few things on these trips. I’ve got ten times the alternatives.”

  And ten times the beauty, which is the irony. She’d look amazing in anything and yet brings an entire store-worth of dresses with her everywhere. Redundant and a waste of space if you ask me.

  “I’m surprised we just had the one carry on for New Orleans,” I mumble, staring at the sliver of the new moon.

  Catching my sarcasm, she laughs and explains while applying powder to her forehead with a thick makeup brush, “It was only one night. Thank God Mark was kind enough to have our things shipped from Atlanta after.” She pads into the bathroom to see herself in the floor-length mirror. Popping back out she asks, “What do you think? Enough to make Jason drool?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nice enthusiasm. And you didn’t even look!”

  Glancing to her I sigh, “You’re gorgeous. We all know it. Let’s just go.” I head for my purse and don’t see that she’s crossed her arms and is eyeing me with a peculiar expression.

  “Sarah, what’s up with you?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “If you’re fine I’m refried beans.”

  Cocking an eyebrow her way, I smile, “Refried beans?”

  On an easy grin, she shrugs, “I’m hungry. It was the first thing I thought of!”

  “You’re dumb.”


  “And you love me.” She spins around and holds her arms up. “So, this is the one, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  The dress hugs her in a way that makes her appear curvier than she is, and with her hair curled to a light wave she’s stunning. And here I am in black jeans and black, loose halter. At least I’ve got heels on.

  But does it matter what I look like?

  No, it doesn’t.

  If Jason thinks he’s going to flirt with me to make her pay, or be jealous, or beg for him, or whatever, he’s going to be disappointed.

  I won’t be used.

  I have feelings, too.

  I just don’t show them to anyone.

  She bends for her purse and I catch a glimpse of her silky white thong.

  “Um…Simone. Might not want to do that.”

  Her spine shoots up. “Did you see my panties?”

  “I did.”

  A wicked grin flashes. “Then I will definitely have to drop something tonight. I am going to make Jason’s cock hard for me again if it’s the last thing I do!”

  Thank God she doesn’t wait for me to respond with enthusiasm and encouragement, because I couldn’t muster it if I tried.

  The only reason I want to hurry up is because I want this night to be over.

  Pulling up to his warehouse loft space I park our rented Toyota and inhale courage. Simone has checked her face repeatedly during the twenty minute drive, further cementing in me the awareness that these feelings I have for Jason are downright wrong.

  I have a brother. We’re not close. He has…problems.

  But what I always wanted was a sister. And then I met her. She’s it. It’s been that way since I first started following her around after she moved to Detroit when we were juniors in high school.

  Why she let me I’ll never know.

  But something happens when you meet certain people. You find yourself making time for them even if the match seems odd on the outside. She and I hung daily after that first conversation in Social Studies where she asked me if the teacher always talked with only her bottom teeth showing. I’d confirmed, and then we whispered about where Simone had moved from and what Detroit was like whenever Mrs. Tully wasn’t paying attention, which was most of the time.

  After that, Simone let me idolize her and in exchange I got to be around my hero.

  Her. She was my hero.

  But that glow is fading. At the hundredth reapplication of her lipstick I’m side-eyeballing her with a confused expression.

  When did Simone become a human being?

  I’m mourning the loss.

  She climbs out first as I suck in a deep breath and slip the key into my bag, throwing my legs out of the vehicle and jumping out with my eyes down.

  “Sarah! Look out!” Simone screams.

  I pancake myself against the car as a Chevy truck nearly takes me out. My curly hair flies up from its proximity and speed. Panting I turn around and meet her eyes over the hood. “Jesus! That was really close.”

  “Your head is up your ass tonight. Try not to get yourself killed. Please and thank you.”

  She motions for me to join her and I trudge around the car with my heart pounding so badly it’s painful. I didn’t need that adrenaline rush added to my anxiety.

  The door opens ahead and Jason runs out, looking fucking gorgeous in a sticky white t-shirt, jeans made for his thighs and hips, and no baseball hat. His hair is mussed up the perfect amount and my breath hitches as he locks eyes with me. “I heard your name being screamed! What happened?”

  “Nothing,” Simone smiles, casting a warning look to me.

  I get the silent message.

  No arresting his attention from her tonight in any way, shape or form. Not even with a near-death experience.

  “Nothing,” I nod, forcing my eyes to the ground as I keep walking to my own living hell.

  Sarah

  As we walk into his loft she and I both glance around, impressed. He’s strung twinkly lights everywhere, and the music is old school R&B. Simone immediately moves her hips to the beat.

  Now that I’m here a memory hits me of when he asked, “Did your rock let you come out to play?”

  I wish I had a protective stone like that looking out for me. I’d crawl under it and hide this one out.

  His home is an open floor plan save for the divider-wall installed in the far right corner, to add some privacy for his bed. My eyes linger there a moment, wondering what color sheets he has. I hope they’re navy blue.

  There is something wrong with me. I need a shrink.

  Justin’s at the kitchen counter in his usual uniform of a well-fitting suit, though the jacket is thrown over a chair and his tie is loose and sexy. He’s standing in front of two bottles of tequila that are shaped like…penises.

  You’ve gotta be kidding me.

  I laugh under my breath and shake my head as we walk over. One is silver and the other pink with a purple gem. They’re extremely suggestive, and by the way Simone’s mouth turns up, she approves.

  She touches Jason’s face as she passes him and purrs, “Perfect choice, and they look very expensive.”

  “The lady demanded it.”

  I want to vomit, but I settle for an eye-roll. Behind her back he grins briefly at me, then gives a wink that throws me.

  Why did that just feel like we’re in on a private joke together? I’m not okay with making fun of my best friend behind her back, and certainly not with her ex-ish.

  It’s always she and I who laugh at the guys.

  I like it that way.

  So why did my heart skip a little?

  Gritting my teeth I head for Justin, too, only now I’m walking faster. I can feel Jason’s body heat behind me and he’s not even that close.

  I glance over my shoulder with lowered eyelashes, not wanting to look obvious.

  He’s locked on me so I quickly turn face-front.

  Don’t fall for his game.

  Don’t be the pawn.

  Keep your eyes on anything but him.

  Justin rakes an appreciative gaze down Simone’s dress. “You look gorgeous. No…you look delicious.”

  She eyes him. “Okay, tell me what you want.”

  “You couldn’t handle what I want.”

  Her head cocks. “I meant what are you trying to get from me, with the compliment.”

  “I know what you meant,” Justin smirks, unwrapping the plastic protective seal on the pink bottle. “Calm down. I’m just saying hello.” He glances to me, nodding briefly. “Sarah.”

  I snort.

  His blonde eyebrows jump.

  Couldn’t help myself - the contrast of his reaction from her to me was comical different.

  “Gee, thanks Justin.”

  “What? I said hello.”

  “Okay fine,” I chuckle.

  Jason crosses to reach inside a cupboard, the white cotton shirt pulling at his shoulder blades, his bicep rippling. I glance to the counter because my lower abdomen just clenched.

  He turns and sets small, elegant glasses down, explaining, “Asombroso Silver and Reposado. The Reposado is better so we’ll begin with that.”

  Justin adds with a sly smile, “While our taste buds can tell the difference.”

  Simone leans against the counter, fingertips tracing the bottle he’s about to pour from. “I’m hungry,” she almost moans.

  Boy, is she laying it on thick.

  Jason’s body brushes mine as he comes to grab tortilla chips for her out of a high cupboard. The side of my arm and hip lights up like he just ran a sparkler up them. I exit, heading for the stereo to hide.

  No one is talking. Just that sexy music filling the air. I’m crawling out of my skin. Fighting to keep my voice even, I call over my shoulder, “I love that you have vinyl albums.”

  “I’ve got over a thousand,” Jason says, ripping the bag of chips open and pouring them all into a large, royal blue ceramic bowl. A stray falls onto the counter and he pops it in his m
outh.

  “I had over fifty,” I smile, lifting up a weathered copy of Duran Duran’s Rio. “This was my first. I found it at an old record store. But then Simone made me…” I trail off as I catch her warning look.

  Glancing to the shelf I slide the record back in place.

  Jason doesn’t want to drop it. “Simone made you what?” he asks, producing a jug of salsa from his fridge.

  The picture of total relaxation, she answers for me, cutting in with, “—Donate the albums to charity.” Off his look, she adds with complete seriousness, “A homeless shelter needed music. It was so — what’s the word? — dreary there. You know how they are.”

  Justin makes a small noise, hiding a snort of his own. He doesn’t believe her, and despite her cool delivery Jason also appears unconvinced. But he nods, unwilling to delve deeper into the bullshit she just offered him up to eat.

  “Well, that was very nice of you, Simone,” he says with a forced smile.

  She leans toward him, “I was happy we could help.”

  Jason licks his lips like he’s biting back a retort while loudly unwrapping plastic from the fresh salsa’s lid.

  His brother waves a glass in the air, beckoning me on a smirk, “Come back to us, Sarah. You’re too far away.”

  I walk to it, locking eyes with the devilish half of the twins.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, cocking my head as he holds my look.

  What’s up with his conspiratorial vibe?

  Is it just in my head?

  He hands two glasses off to Jason and Simone, who by anyone’s standards are so good-looking together they could be painted on the side of a wall in Florence, Italy. I am very delusional to have feelings for that man, on many counts.

  Justin holds up his glass and announces, “To Just For Me hitting Number One.”

  We all smack glasses together and I wince as some of my tequila splashes onto my hand. Licking it, I look up with a face that says I hate being so clumsy. But Jason’s locked on my tongue licking the liquid off my dampened wrist. A jolt of arousal slams into me. I saw desire in his eyes.