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

by Faleena Hopkins

  As Jake and I arrive on the back porch, everyone looks over. The discussions are abandoned as they rise to meet me.

  I am beyond terrified.

  I don’t know if Jake can tell, but he takes my elbow and leads me down the steps to the grass, where everyone is heading to meet us halfway. I use his support and force a smile.

  Justin and Jason greet me like we’re old friends, and I catch a wink Justin throws my roommate.

  Don introduces me to his wife, Marie, and I instantly see the resemblance between her and the man behind her who’s sizing me up from a polite mental distance.

  “I hope my husband isn’t too hard to work for,” Marie says with a smile.

  “I’ve just started there. I’ll call you if I have any trouble.”

  She laughs, and my eyes dart back to the man. Immediately I know he is Jake’s father. They have the same eyes. His mother is standing next to him. She has the darker complexion that Jake has, but the green eyes of the twins. In other respects they’re like their father.

  A nice woman introduces herself to me. “I work for the congressman,” she says with a nod behind her. Inwardly I stiffen as my eyes flit over.

  “Oh!” I thought he’d looked familiar. Thank God Jake told me to wear this particular dress.

  He walks over with his hand out. His wife is with him, staring at me like she’s trying to see my soul or something.

  “Michael Cocker. Nice to meet you, Drew.”

  “Nice to meet you, too, sir. I never put that together, that you were…I guess if your name started with a ‘J’ I might have.”

  He laughs, “That’s Nancy’s doing. She likes ‘J’ names.”

  “It’s not just me!” Mrs. Cocker objects, reaching out to shake my hand. She clasps it between both of hers and tells me in a confidential tone, “My sister Anna loves ‘J’ names, too. We both took all the best ones for our children.”

  “Is she here?”

  “No, they’re in Savannah.” Nancy looks at Jake. “Oh, I didn’t tell my sister! She’s going to be so mad.”

  “I won’t tell her if you won’t,” Jake says.

  Justin laughs, “I’m calling her tomorrow.”

  “You better not!” Nancy Cocker admonishes him.

  Jake’s grandma calls over from the cushioned seat. “Come here, child.”

  Jason warns me, “Don’t you dare swear in front of Grams, Drew!”

  Appalled, I look at him on my way over, with Jake holding my elbow again. “Why would I do that?”

  Everyone laughs and I realize I’ve stumbled onto an inside joke. They all sit down and resume their conversations.

  “This is our Matriarch,” Jake tells me, introducing her. “May Cocker.”

  “See, Nancy got that from me. I named my children Marie and Michael, only I used my letter, because I’m egotistical.” She winks at me. Instantly, I like her. “I don’t know about this living with a man you’re not married to, though. You women today don’t know how to look out for yourselves!”

  On a soft smile, I tell her, “Jake’s very scary. I lock my bedroom door at night.”

  He laughs loudly. Her eyes dance and she wags a finger at him. “You hear that! She’s watching you.”

  “She has nothing to worry about,” he smiles.

  I try not to snort.

  “You get her something to eat, Jake.”

  “I will, Grams.”

  There are two children off running around the bushes at the far end. I point to them and ask, “Are those your older brother’s?”

  “No, they’re…where is Jaxson?” Jake says, under his breath. He turns around and asks the group, “Did Jax leave?”

  “I’m here!” a deep voice calls from the house. A man appears and strolls down the back patio steps onto the grass, smiling at us. “Just had to make a call.” His eyes flash to the Congressman and I catch a silent exchange where he nods as if to say, the deed is done.

  Jaxson Cocker is ruggedly handsome, sun-kissed in both hair and skin. His eyes are a darker shade of green than his twin brothers, and very wise. He’s an old soul, as they say, and I feel myself relax in his presence as he shakes my hand. “Hi. I’m Jaxson, but a lot of people call me Jax.”

  “Drew. Nice to meet you.” I glance to Jake and find him watching me with an expression I can’t read.

  Jax nods to the table. “Have you tried Mom’s chili yet?”

  “No, but I hear it’s amazing.”

  Jake says, “Understatement,” with a shake of his gorgeous head. He leads me over and hands me a plate. “These are brown sugar sweet potatoes with marshmallow topping. That’s apple-smoked bacon in the green beans, and red onions to sweeten the taste. And this right here, this is what you’ll never want to stop eating.”

  “Jake, you’re exaggerating!” Nancy calls over, genuinely annoyed. “I can’t meet those expectations!”

  He tells me, “She’s modest. Ignore her,” loud enough for her to hear. She huffs and they share a look that he has won the battle, but she’s not happy about it.

  “Lookin’ good. But you’re missing out on the best part, Drew.” Jason tells me over the other’s conversation as we walk to the table, my plate piled high.

  “What’s the best part?” I ask Jake.

  “He’s pissed the fucking ginger ale is gone.”

  “JAKE!” May shouts.

  “You know you love me, Grams.” He pulls out a chair for me, and takes the seat beside mine.

  He’s watching as I take a bite of chili and close my eyes with awe.

  “Right?! What’d I tell you?”

  My cocky roomie didn’t exaggerate, not one bit. “It’s amazing, Mrs. Cocker.”

  She smiles, but then glances to her husband. “If only Jett were here to enjoy some.”

  His jaw tightens. He shoots her a look. She holds it.

  Jake told me Jett and his father don’t get along. Seems sad when everyone is so nice like this, and gets along so well. I wonder what happened between them.

  JAKE

  I feel good as I unlock the front door and hold the door open for Drew. We’ve been talking for the past three hours and finding all kinds of things we have in common. We both camped as kids with our families, not the rented cabin type of camping, but the sleeping under the stars in a sleeping bag kind. We both saw a bear once, both nearly crapped ourselves. I told her my favorite band is The Doors, and she started humming Crystal Ship. That was the song I love the most of theirs, which I told her. She just nodded and said, “Me too.”

  It was really comfortable being with her there. I was nervous for her at first, with how my parents were looking at her. I found out later that they’d asked the twins about her when they discovered we’d all gone to the Gardens. The thing is, I don’t bring girls home to my family. Outsiders earn their way in, and so far no woman has with me. I almost brought a girlfriend home in high school but then I found out she’d fucked one of the teacher’s while we were dating. Grew even more careful after that.

  Dad’s assistant and her family have been coming for a long time, years of working with him and all. Our nanny used to come to the BBQs but she passed away last year, unexpectedly. Hit us all hard. And of course there’s our Aunt on my mom’s side, her husband and our cousins, all around the same age as us. They’re usually there.

  “Aunt Anna is going to be pissed when she finds out I’m leaving.”

  Drew slides out of her sandals and leaves them on our shoe-mat. “Is that your mom’s sister?”

  “Yeah. She forgot to call her. That’s a sure sign she’s upset. She hasn’t said anything to me about going to Denver, either.”

  “With Jett and Jeremy gone, I’m sure she doesn’t want to lose another son.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble, slipping off my shoes. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I look at her. She’s watching me with a compassionate smile and she touches my arm.

  “You have a great family, Jake.”

  “They’re pretty good.”

/>   She nods and then looks at the door as a knock sounds. “Are the twins coming over or something?”

  They’d better not be. I’ve got a plan to seduce Drew tonight and I don’t need distractions. It’s Sunday. I leave the day after tomorrow. I don’t want to go without feeling her body under mine again. And again. Getting to know her more, and seeing how good she held herself in public with the people I care about, just made me want to imprint myself on her mind so that she doesn’t forget me when I go away.

  “Let’s not open the door,” I mutter, barring her way.

  “Seriously?” she whispers, so whoever’s on the other side can’t hear.

  I nod once and take her by the shoulders, looking down into her gentle eyes. I’m about to kiss her when another knock comes through, followed by a woman’s voice.

  “Drew?”

  “Bernie?” she frowns, moving past me to open it.

  There on my welcome mat stands a woman I never expected to see tonight, if ever again. Bernie Lancaster, ex-model and now high-class hooker, is dressed to the nines except for a couple telltale details: her hair is a mess and her nose is red from the blow. I wonder if Drew knows she hooks. I have a feeling she wouldn’t be hanging out with her, if she did. They’re too different.

  With eyes twitching, Bernie glances from Drew to me and her fake smile vanishes.

  “Why the fuck is Jake Cocker here?”

  Surprised, Drew looks at me. “You guys know each other?”

  “Small town,” I shrug. “How ya doin’ Bernie?”

  “Not good, Jake,” she snarls. “I’ve been better, and now I see your fucking face. Why is he at your house, Drew? You guys aren’t dating. Please tell me you’re not dating Jake Cocker.” Her face is filled with so much disgust I want to punch her.

  “This is his place, Bern,” she quietly says, looking from her to me. “I’m his roommate.”

  “Oh!” Bernie exhales, but then her eyes narrow on me and her voice reverts back to disgust. “Oh,” she repeats, this time flatly.

  I don’t have to ask why. I know why she hates me. I cross my arms. “Can we help you?”

  She dogs me with another death-stare. “Drew is like my best friend since forever, Jake. So don’t look at me like I’m a piece of trash that rolled up on your door. Show a woman some respect, you fuck.”

  Drew closes her eyes with embarrassment then says, “Ummm…”

  Bernie cuts her off. “I’m being stalked, Drew. Can I come in??”

  “Of course!” Waving her friend in, Drew starts for her room. “We’ll just go in there, Jake.”

  “Take off your stilettos first,” I grumble.

  Drew spins around. “Okay, I don’t know what your history is, but you are being rude and it’s very unattractive.”

  “I don’t give a shit.”

  “I don’t deserve that shit from you, Jake.” Bernie shouts. “Especially you!” Her hands are shaking.

  I clamp my mouth shut, knowing there’s no way this argument will end well. The two of them disappear, but not before Drew stares at me with all kinds of questions in her mind.

  Bernie didn’t take off her shoes. Bitch.

  An hour later, Drew’s bedroom door opens. I’m on the couch watching The Walking Dead on Netflix, Season Two. Seen ‘em all a long time ago but only a show this good can distract me from what is goin’ on in my house.

  Drew appears, worried and much more distant than before. “Jake?” She glances to the T.V. and mutters, “Oh…Shane. I never trusted him,” then looks back at me. “I think Judith is his. So sad.”

  “Doesn’t matter now. Rick will raise her as his own.”

  “Yeah.”

  I lean back. “So?”

  “Bernie’s goin’ to stay the night, here on the couch. And before you say anythin’, please just let me say she’s gotten herself into trouble. Not with the stalker.” She’s ringing her hands in front of her sundress. “I’m not sure there even is one, but she needs me. I’m not going to go into her personal details because that isn’t polite, but do you trust me?”

  Exhaling loudly through my nose, I nod that I do.

  It’s Bernie I don’t trust.

  Just then I hear footsteps padding toward us. The bitch took off her shoes after all. I’ve no doubt she did it to manipulate Drew, probably while crying about how awful her life is. As if she had no part in that. God, I’d hoped never to see her again. After all we went through.

  Bernie rounds the corner, eyes much softer than when she arrived. I was right, her mascara’s gone. Hair is smoothed down now. I can just picture Drew petting her and telling her, it’s gonna be alright. Let me help. I can fix everythin’.

  “Fine. She can stay on the couch. But not tomorrow because it’s my last night here and I need to get a lot done.”

  Glancing to Bernie, Drew says, “I’ll stay at Bernie’s tomorrow night. Okay, Bern?”

  For a second I almost take it back because that means Drew’ll be gone on my last night. But having her bat-shit-crazy bitch of a friend here wouldn’t do me any good anyway. Not in any way, shape or form. I keep my mouth shut and watch the two of them come to an agreement.

  Bernie is looking at me like she’s a child who’s been damaged. She looks vulnerable and lost. I have to admit it’s persuasive. “Thank you, Jake. I know I don’t deserve the help.”

  I don’t want to come off as the asshole here, so I say, “It’s not that. It’s just…never mind. Water under the bridge.” I stand up and head for my room. Two against one. No man ever won this war. It’s why we fight them against other men. At least there is a chance at victory.

  I just can’t believe these two are best friends. And here I had planned to get even closer to Drew tonight. That’s shot. She’s gone tomorrow night. I won’t see her for who knows how fucking long.

  And Bernie Lancaster is sleeping in my apartment. If she steals anything, I won’t be surprised. Nothing she does will ever surprise me again.

  “I’m going to bed.”

  “Do you have an extra blanket?” Drew asks.

  I sigh, “Yeah. Hang on.”

  Bringing it to her, along with an extra pillow, Drew smiles. “Night, Jake.”

  “Night.” I glance to Bernie, who offers me a shy, grateful nod. Damn, she’s good.

  DREW

  “Here, you can wear my pajama shorts,” I tell her as I rummage through my dresser. “And this t-shirt is really comfy to sleep in. Oh wait, you’re tinier than I am.”

  “I don’t mind,” she whispers. “Baggier is better for sleep. Can’t rest if you’re in tight clothes.”

  “True. It feels like sleepin’ in a python’s belly.”

  She smiles and makes a face. “Gross.”

  “There’s a draw-string on the shorts. Should be okay.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be good.”

  For a moment it feels like when we were kids, just being together, comfortable. When I stayed at her place after moving to Atlanta, I hardly ever saw this calm side of her. The cocaine habit had its claws too deep in her. She had guys over every night of the week.

  I could never sleep, and I was really upset by the lifestyle my jet-setting hero had fallen into.

  I’d always pictured Bernadette as this New York City to Milan to London, goddess. I saw her pictures on Facebook over the years and envied all the places she’d been, the fabulously glamorous friends she had, and the money that seemed to seep from her pores.

  It was so very different from my modest, small-town life.

  But my naïve adoration and envy of her changed when I saw up close what that kind of exposure can do to a girl who doesn’t have family roots to fall back on. Bernie’s dad was absent and her mom wasn’t the nicest woman I’d ever met. She pushed Bern to be a winner in pageants. Loved to show off her blonde haired, beautiful daughter wherever she went like she was a thing and not a person. “Look at this preciousness right here! Have you ever seen such a perfect child? She’s gonna be a big star one day! Yo
u watch!”

  “What happened with you and Jake, Bernie?” It’s the second time I’ve asked her. Of course I wanted to pry as soon as I’d first gotten her alone.

  “You know those Cocker boys. They’re notorious. I don’t want to talk about it, Drew. Okay?”

  “Of course. Did he hurt you?”

  She gives me a reproachful look for asking, and walks to my bed. She lays down the clothes I gave her and starts to strip. “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “Sorry.” I pull out something to sleep in. “Just want to make sure he didn’t.”

  “Oh, he hurt me alright,” she mutters with such anger I glance over in surprise.

  Now I’m sorry I asked. Shit, they dated. It’s so obvious. And here I was thinking I was too old for Jake. Bernie’s a year older than I am. She started school late.

  As she yanks down her leather pants my eyes go wide. “Bernie! What happened to your behind?”

  She looks over at me and says, simply, “He got a little carried away with the spankings.”

  “Who did?!!”

  She shrugs, “Just a guy, Drew. Doesn’t matter.”

  Flabbergasted, I walk over and toss my clothes on the bed, too, but I’m staring at the purple marks. They are obscenely dark and ominous. As she pulls on my shorts and tightens the string as tight as it’ll go, she won’t look me in the eye.

  “That wasn’t carried away, Bernie. That’s abuse. Those bruises are deep, honey.”

  “They go deeper than that,” she mutters, meaning emotionally and not just from this time. She’s talking about way, way back to childhood. And she knows I know all about that. Her mother had a string of boyfriends. Pedophiles love to prey on single mothers. She slips into my shirt, her tiny, model-sized breasts disappearing from view. I pull her to me and give her a big hug.