Cocky Roomie: A Bad Boy Romance Novel (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 1)

by Faleena Hopkins

  The subject of our debate walks up with a lazy stride, running his hands through his dirty-blonde hair. “If I’m a cat then I’m the one who ate the canary.” He hits the baseball cap on his twin’s head and takes a seat.

  Jason and I both shake our heads.

  “Next time you eat our waitress will you make sure that WE have enough to eat, first?” Jason motions to their empty plates.

  Justin stares at them, then hits his brother. “You ate my whole fucking meal!”

  “Duh!”

  I raise my eyebrows at Justin that he should know better. “That’s what happens when you leave it unguarded. But I have a feeling she’ll get you more.”

  Up walks Tanny Walters with blue-tipped fingers twined around three ice-cold bottles.

  “These are on me,” she smiles, eyes locked with Justin’s. It’s instantly clear she really likes the guy, and that she’s in over her head. Jason and I exchange a look, because she has no idea she’s being obvious and that it’s never gonna happen.

  Women tend to get their panties in a bunch over our family. Partly because we aren’t a fucking bunch of pussies, and partly because of the money. And prestige.

  It just makes us jaded, suspicious, and guarded, knowing this. And besides, Justin will marry a woman who will look good to voters.

  But he will never turn down free pussy or free beer.

  Justin takes them from Tanny and uses the Southern drawl he lays on thick when charming people into doing what he wants. “Well, now isn’t that sweet of you.”

  “Least I could do,” she says, thinking she’s mysterious. We know exactly why she bought this round. Payback for the big O he just granted her. Flashing a smile around the table, she floats off, but not before glancing suggestively to him over her shoulder on her way.

  He waves.

  “I’m going to puke,” Jason mutters, low enough for just us.

  “I’m right behind ya. Shit, Justin. How long that take you?” He shrugs and looks from his empty plate to Jason’s, then to mine. I’ve still got a few morsels left. “Don’t touch my food. I’m not kidding.”

  His hands go up. “Alright!” He stares at my fries.

  “Stop it.”

  “Going to have to order some more food,” Justin smirks, giving up. “You never answered me earlier.”

  I remember the question. “You took off before I had the chance to. You think with your dick. It’s like having dinner with a gnat, that’s your attention span.”

  “Only when there’s a woman around who touches my leg like she did. Door was open. You would have walked through it.”

  I shrug. Tanny’s not my type. She’s not his, either, but that wouldn’t stop him from a temporary tongue-to-pussy-lashing if there’s a private place to do it. A place only someone who worked here would know about.

  “So, I’ll ask you again. How’s your female roomie situation coming along?”

  Shaking my head at his emphasis on the word coming, I sip my fresh, cold beer and set it down. “She keeps to herself. Paid me a deposit and first month, plus prorated the extra days.”

  My mind travels back to this morning when Drew came out of the bathroom with a towel around her head and body, and saw me waiting my turn.

  “Oh, were you waitin’ long?”

  “Nah, just made coffee and came over.”

  She tucked loose wet strands under the towel-turban and smiled shyly at me. “I thought you got ready for work later than this.”

  “Have to go in early today.” At her apologetic expression, I cut her off. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not late.”

  “Oh,” she glanced to my bare chest.

  “I like your outfit,” I smirked.

  “Your tailor made it for me,” she dryly threw back.

  “Ha.”

  “Well, have a good day.”

  She headed to her room leaving a fruity soap smell lingering in the air. I stared at the back of her bare calves, and went in to take my own shower. Had a good run at myself in there. Cold water did nothing to abate the horniness that’s becoming increasingly more insistent every time we have these brief exchanges. It’s the first time a woman has wanted to get away from me. She always leaves first. It’s intriguing and irritating at the same time.

  I shrug to Justin and add, “All good so far.”

  “You gonna hit it?” Justin asks.

  Jason is staring at me like he wants to know, too.

  “Naw.” I take another sip because the truth is I don’t know. Plus it’s none of Justin’s business. And I don’t want to explain why I haven’t already. It’s been over two weeks she’s been living in my home. It’s weird having a woman there, but even weirder that I’m starting to like it. “Want rent paid on time.”

  They both grin, and Jason calls me out. “You don’t need the money, Jake. Who do you think you’re kidding here?”

  “We know you. What’s up with the girl?”

  I shrug again and pop the last fry in my mouth. “Not interested.”

  “She’s not hot then?”

  “Nah.”

  Justin looks for a server for more food and mutters a disappointed, “Huh. Oh well.” This is enough to switch him over to his favorite subject – politics. I’m normally interested, but now my mind is on her.

  “I’m goin’ to bed, Jake. ‘Night.”

  “You don’t wanna watch a movie?”

  “Umm,” she smiled, shaking her head a little as a bare foot rested on the other, toes bent and awkward. “No. I have to interview for jobs again tomorrow. I want to be rested. Thanks, though.”

  “Raincheck then.”

  She whispered, “Sure,” but didn’t mean it.

  When I rented to her it was out of pity only, because I knew for a fucking fact that I wanted to fuck her, and that wasn’t going to work out well since I have no intention of being monogamous AND it’s kinda hard to hide being with other women when one’s living in your home.

  But then she went and cried. That crushed, stumbling speech of hers melted my insides.

  She looked like her puppy got killed and I couldn’t turn her away at that point.

  The second she left I thought, Oh shit, Jake. You fucked up. She’s going to be a clingy, needy, hurt little bird and you’ve just set a precedent for being a softy when she cries. She’s going to be sobbing every damn time she wants something.

  Never expected her to be mostly absent, always in her room when she’s home, always out looking for work when she’s not. She hasn’t asked me for a thing, and her eyes haven’t been red in over two weeks.

  “Where you from, Drew?”

  “Small town. Didn’t I tell you Dublin? Yeah, small place. Quaint, but…Goodnight!”

  “Hey Drew, what are you doing today?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about me. You have a good day at work, okay?”

  “Your phone is buzzing, Drew.”

  “I’ve got it! Thank you.”

  Then she zips off every time like she forgot to feed the secret hostages she’s hiding in her room or something.

  It’s making me want to steal her phone and read what’s on it. And that ain’t like me at all. But…she’s interesting. Only one night did I get her to hang out with me, and watch some T.V. But I had to trick her. I didn’t ask her a single question about herself. I didn’t ask her to watch Game of Thrones, I just put it on. I didn’t ask her if she wanted my legendary ribs, I just put out two plates. And I remembered she loves garlic, so I made sure the veggies had some.

  It was like earning the trust of a wild, abused animal. I loved every second of it.

  “Jake!”

  Swaying from the stinging punch my arm receives out of nowhere, I come back to the present. “What?!”

  The twins are staring at me. Justin says, “I’ve been talking to you for fifteen minutes!” Glancing to the table, I see their beers are empty.

  “Sorry. We’ve got this problem at the site. Waiting for a permit and the city isn’t budging.” I h
and him my beer. “Want the rest of this? I’m gonna head home.”

  Jason grabs it first.

  Justin throws him a look. “You’re fucking quick.”

  “Years of practice,” he grins.

  Justin turns back to me. “When I get in there, things will be different.”

  “Fix the fucking potholes.” Jason grumbles.

  “Amen to that,” I say, rising up and pulling out my wallet. I love Atlanta but the potholes are nuts. “And thank God you took the bar exam before Vortex sues you for what you just did in their closet.”

  “And risk the cooks walking in? It was the ladies bathroom. Left stall. Handicapped. Nice and big.” He grins at me. “We gave the women who came in something to dream about later.”

  “Dick.”

  “I’ve got the tab, Jake.” Jason motions for me to put my cash away.

  Justin leans forward. “Yeah let him get this one, since times are so tough you can’t fuck your roommate for fear of losing rent money.”

  Chuckling, I shoot back, “Go lick another waitress’ pierced clit so your mouth can have a purpose.”

  Their laughter fades as the distance grows between us. My smile does, too. I’ve got one thing on my mind now, and one thing only: I wonder if Drew is home.

  DREW

  “T omorrow, Daddy.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Construction company, I think. They work with water plants, desalinization and things like that. They’re looking for administrative help.”

  “Well, that’s a good place to work. We need to find better ways to turn salt water into drinking water, yes we do…but Drew, you’ve never had a job!”

  Sitting on my feet, tucked into Jake’s overstuffed couch, I stare out the window into darkness. It’s been so hard finding a job with an empty resume. Way harder than I thought. There is always someone more qualified than I am. I’ve submitted online. I’ve walked them in. I’ve even returned to places to make sure they didn’t fire the person they hired instead of me. When I got the call from Likuss that they wanted to see me tomorrow, I almost screamed.

  “Daddy, I worked at that sandwich shop in high school.”

  “How does that apply?”

  “I’m just sayin’ I had a job.”

  “Drew…” He trails off and we sit in silence for a minute.

  The problem is he’s voicing everything I’m already thinking. I’m terrified to get my hopes up, knowing they’re not going to hire me at Likuss. I don’t have a chance in hell of winning that job over any other applicants. They must have felt sorry for me and called me in as a charity case just to say they’re good people or something. That sounds jaded, but I’m starting to see the world as a harsher place than I did when I lived in Dublin. Back when I thought Edward was faithful to me.

  The key turning in our front door makes me fly off the couch. “I have to go, Daddy!”

  I have been doing such a good job avoiding the sexy beast I live with. It’s been so hard to keep so distant, but it’s the best way for me to keep this apartment and not throw myself into his muscular arms. I am only human after all. That baby-maker below my belly keeps whispering that Jake Cocker’s eyes would look fabulous on my future son.

  My father calmly says, “Tell Bernie I said hello.”

  “I will. Bye!” I hang up, running to my room. The door swings open. I have no choice but to freeze and strike a casual pose or look like a crazy person. I manage to do both.

  Jake walks in, eying me suspiciously. “Why were you running?”

  “I wasn’t runnin’ anywhere.”

  “You’re panting.”

  Over-chuckling, I make a ridiculous face. “I am most certainly NOT.”

  “I could make you pant.”

  We stare at each other. My fake-smile disappears. His expression is totally serious…for all of two seconds. A big grin spreads on his face.

  “Kidding, Drew.”

  “Oh. Ha.” Fiddling absently with my phone, I picture our child running up and calling him, Daddy!

  The thing is, it’s been so hard to think of him as too young for me when his voice is as low as it is, he’s built like that, he’s that tall, and he doesn’t act like one. I was expecting him to be up late smoking pot, playing video games, but Jake watches movies I like, shows I need to catch up on, and he’s always in bed on the weeknights by ten o’clock. He’s off to work by seven, Monday thru Friday, and he keeps the house clean. I have yet to see this maid he mentioned to me. I think he secretly cleans the bathroom himself. I’ve watched him clean up his pots and dishes after every meal he’s cooked for himself. And that’s the other thing, he cooks real meals!

  “Oh, that smells good.”

  “I like to make ribs on Sundays,” he proudly told me.

  “Like, it’s a tradition?”

  As he slathered on BBQ sauce, he replied with a distracted, “Mmhmm.”

  I sat down on the barstool by his kitchen island and watched him cut cauliflower, brussel sprouts, and white onions, throw them into a bowl for cooking when the ribs were ready. Then he licked a thick fingertip and muttered to himself, “Almost forgot the garlic.” He peeled and minced a garlic clove, all the while wearing no shirt and jeans that begged to be ripped off. His ass in those jeans was a poem to the male form.

  And the best part about it was that, because he was busy focusing, he didn’t ask me the questions he’s taken to asking me. I was able to just sit with him and not let him get too close. That was the one night where I sat on the couch with him and watched two back-to-back Game of Thrones episodes. And I didn’t try to escape.

  Big mistake.

  I realized that, later. That lazy, Sunday evening made me want to spend more time with him. It’s been torture to live here, but if you asked me to move out, you’d have to drag me, kicking, screaming and biting your hands. Guess that makes me a masochist.

  Clearing my throat, I mutter, “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Jake.”

  “It’s eight-thirty.”

  “I have a job interview in the morning.”

  His face lights up with genuine interest, and I’m so lonely for company.

  “You do? Well, that’s great. What’s it for?”

  Painfully, I whisper, “I don’t want to talk about it, if that’s alright.”

  Disappointment – or was it annoyance – flickers across his face. He shoves his hands in his front pockets. He seems to do that every time he’s thinking or unhappy. “Well, keep me company a little while, Drew. I was just with the twins and I could use some female energy for a change.”

  “Like you lack in female company,” I dryly mutter.

  “Have you seen any women here?”

  Truth is, I haven’t. I’m not looking forward to the day when I do, I know that.

  I smile, “Just when I look in the mirror.”

  He grins, “Exactly. Come here.”

  Reluctantly, I follow and stand by the kitchen island as he pulls out a bag of microwave-popcorn.

  “You have brothers?” I ask, leaning against the granite counter.

  “Yep. Five.” He throws the bag in and sets the cook-time.

  “Six boys? Are your parents Catholic?”

  Jake laughs as he pulls out a couple of beers from the fridge. “I think they were hoping for a girl. They didn’t get one.”

  “I would say not!” I’m watching his muscles flex as he pops the tops and hands me one. “Six boys. Wow. Where are you in that?”

  “Second to last.” He counts on his fingers. “Jaxson, Jerald, but we call him Jett now. Then there’s Jason and Justin, they’re identical twins. Me then Jeremy.”

  “All Js.”

  Jake taps his bottle to mine and smirks like he’s mentally stripping me naked. “You have siblings, right?”

  “Only child.”

  I wish I had a different answer to that question. I’ve always wanted a bigger family. There were a lot of lonely days growing up an only child, especially when my father kept be
ing taken away at all hours of the night to talk with troubled people. A pastor’s work is literally never done. Dinner was interrupted frequently. Then it would be just me and Momma, because his talks would go on into the late hours of the night.

  “They didn’t want more kids?”

  Playing with my bottle, I sigh, “They tried. Guess God didn’t want it for us.” I glance down and take a sip, reading the label for the first time: Orpheus. “Is this local?”

  “The only beer I drink is made here in Georgia.”

  I love the pride shining off him. “That’s very loyal of you, Jake.”

  He nods. “Runs in my blood.”

  We stare at each other in a silence so charged I can hear chemistry humming.

  I meant what I said when he first showed me the place: I will not sleep with Jake Cocker. I need this fresh start too badly. I’m not the sleep-around kind. I never have been.

  But then he reaches over and tucks a long lock of hair behind my ear and steps closer to me, his calloused fingertips lingering on my neck. I hold my breath as my ovaries scream to let him do what he wants. His eyes darken with an intended kiss and my throat goes dry.

  “Don’t do this, Jake.”

  “Do what?” he murmurs, staring into my eyes. God, he’s stunning close up. The power coming off Jake Cocker is weakening my resolve by the second.

  Oh, why aren’t my feet walking away?! Maybe because I’m throbbing in my panties.

  “You’re lookin’ at me like I’m a…”

  He leans down so closely I can smell the sweetness of the beer on his lips. “Like you’re what, Drew? A soft cat I want to pet?”

  “Are you implying something with that?” I whisper, my eyelids falling.

  His baby browns sparkle. “Am I meaning your pussy when I say cat? Yes, I mean your, hot, sopping wet, tight little pussy.” I gasp. He pauses and adds, “But I want to do more than just pet it.”

  “Oh my God,” I moan and my lips stay open, ready for the inevitable. My chance to run is gone. I am his slave now because I made the mistake of staying and talking to him when I should have disappeared. This is what I’ve avoided so carefully. Jake is so dangerous and off-limits that I am drenched with need for him to fill me with that enormous cock he’s got. Every night that I see him walking shirtless to the couch with his home-cooked dinner, I think about that monster between his legs. And then I successfully make a break for it. There’s no running now. I want him. I need him. When this happens, he will be the first man since my husband. And Edward was the first ever.