Cocky Roomie: A Bad Boy Romance Novel (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 1) (14 page)

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 he
r, 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

^“
H
ere, 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! You 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.

“I’m gonna help you. There are lots of rehabs you can go to.”

Bernie starts to cry. Her arms were loosely around me at first but as the tears really start comin’ she grabs on tightly and buries her face into my shoulder, sobbing. Her whole body is shaking. I don’t let go until her pain subsides. I don’t know how long we’re standing like this, but it’s just long enough to break my heart into a million pieces. This isn’t what I wanted for my friend. I wanted to keep her on the pedestal, a model not just in magazine but of inspiration. But we’re all just human beings doing our best, aren’t we?

While I change clothes, she sits on my bed and wipes her face with a makeup-remover pad. She’s staring off in that numb way we do when we’ve just unloaded a lot of blocked anguish. We’re silent like sisters who don’t need to talk to fill the spaces. I pull a pillow off my bed and hand it to her.

“I don’t think Jake’s pillow is as fluffy as this one. His are flat guy-pillows he’s had for too long.”

She glances to me like a wounded deer. “You guys aren’t dating, are you?”

Oh shit. She still loves him. The feeling isn’t mutual, but I’m not going to break her heart by telling her that Jake and I have been getting to know each other…well.

“No, we’re not. I have to be honest with you, Bern. I do like him. Oh my gosh, that hurts to say it.” I give Bernie a nervous smile, but she stares at me oddly, not returning it, of course.

“You know their dad’s a congressman.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You can’t trust politicians, Drew. They’re liars.”

Blinking at her, I argue, “He seemed like a nice man.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You’ve met Michael Cocker?”

“Yeah,” I shrug, defensively. “I’m Jake’s roommate. It’s no big deal. He invited me over for a BBQ tonight since he’s leavin’ town for…a while.”

Annoyance flashes across her. Or maybe it’s just downright anger. She looks back at the wall and her jaw is tight. “You went to their house?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it a big party like with other people, or just the family?”

I can see from her reaction that she has a reason for asking. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Just answer the question, Drew.”

“Besides some people who work for the Congressman, it was just the family.”

She looks at the floor. “Huh.”

Now I get it. She’s never been there. “It wasn’t a big deal,” I whisper, feeling guilty.

Her beautiful eyes cut me down to nothing, then something changes in her expression and she smiles. It’s so normal and without the rage I just saw boiling in her, that I’m thrown by the shift. “I’m tired. I’m goin’ to bed. Or to the couch, or whatever. Thank you for the good pillow, Drew.” She hugs me really tightly then kisses my cheek before she quietly whispers, “And for the shoulder.”

In my doorframe, she looks back and gives me a sad smile. I see nine-year-old, toe-headed Bernadette Lancaster standing just inside the front door of her Momma’s home, waving to me with her cheeks flushed from the daily race we ran against each other, trying to beat the other to the old Dogwood.

“Love you, Drew Charleybomb.”

Feeling empty, I offer a sad smile. “Love you, too, Bernie Casteroil.”

She closes the door.

The world didn’t give us what it promised.

DREW

I 
swear the vibration of my phone when a text comes through is hardwired into my brain. It’s all the way in the closet, stuffed deep in my purse and still I can hear it while I’m dreaming. It’s crazy.

I run to it and find the message is from Jake.

You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.