Cocky Best Friend: Samantha Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 21)

by Faleena Hopkins

  “No!”

  “We’ll talk later.”

  “I’m not budging on this, Gabriel!” Dad shouts.

  Mom pats the couch next to her. “Don’t let him get a rise out of you. If he had his way he’d steal you from us and we’d be down another child.”

  My smile falters as I sit with her while Gabriel smirks, “For a good cause!”

  Dad shouts, “Yeah, yours! Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, ya selfish bastard.”

  Gabriel’s laughter disappears as the lock clicks. Everything is soundproofed.

  Mom mutters, “Don't call your nephew a bastard, Jason.”

  “You always do.”

  “But I’m me.”

  As they banter, I’m silently wondering how I could have forgotten that this might not be good news. I’ve been so caught up in the glitz, it never occurred to me what happened when we all had dinner with Caden right before he moved to Chicago. It was so painful, especially for Mom and Dad. She hasn’t been the same. Sadness is in the back of her eyes even when she smiles. Only big events like Isabella being born, and my opening night, have taken it away, temporarily. “What is it you wanted to tell us?” Mom asks as she moves a velvet cushion behind her back for better support.

  I glance between her and Dad, my breath held. He tilts his head to the side and leans back in his chair. “Everything okay with Lexi?”

  My gaze drops to his purple carpet. “It’s not always about Lexi.”

  There’s an awkward silence before Mom says, “What is it, Sam?”

  I flick a glance to her but…I can’t stand how this feels, so my eyelashes drop back down. “I think I’m falling in love.”

  Dad stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets like the Cocker men do when they’re uncomfortable. “With Asher?”

  “Who else would it be?”

  “Jason,” Mom warns.

  “I was just making sure we were talking about the same person.”

  I cross my legs and pick up a silver throw pillow, hugging it to me.

  Broadway.

  Broadway.

  Broadway.

  Pulses in my veins.

  I clear my throat. “Yes, Asher. I think he’s pretty great.”

  “Is that because everybody thinks he’s pretty great, or because you think he is?”

  Mom warns again, “Jason!”

  “I am speaking from experience here, Sarah. Remember who I was when you met me.”

  I glance up to see her acknowledging he’s right. I haven’t seen Max’s movie yet, even though it just got into Sundance, but I know the story. And I also know that Dad dated Simone before he and Mom fell in love. “You’re trying to say that I’m just interested in him because of superficial reasons.”

  “He is very handsome.”

  “Dad!”

  Squatting in front of me, my father’s pale green eyes are filled with hope that I can see he means well. “Samantha, I want you to be happy. And if this guy makes you happy, then I am all for it. Does he?”

  “We are just dating. You don’t have to get all forever on me. I’m not even ready to find the one yet. I’m too young.”

  Dad exchanges a look with Mom. She says, “I told you she knew that.”

  “Knew what?” I ask, glancing between them as I stand up, squeezing around him to pace with a deep frown.

  Dad sighs, “Your parents talk about you. I’m sure that’s no shock.”

  I run fingers through my hair as I think about New York City, voice distracted by what I’m not telling them. “Okay. Sorry.”

  Dad makes a monster noise and runs at me like he used to do when I was a kid.

  “No, Dad! Don’t even try it,” I shout as I run into the sound booth and shut the door. Locking it, I mouth through the window, “You suck. I am staying right here!”

  He presses a button on his console so that I can hear their voices in the room. “Your mother wants to know something. What?”

  “Never mind. I want to ask her in private.”

  “But I want to know what it is.”

  Mom tilts her head. “No, you don’t.”

  Dad releases the button so I can no longer hear them. That magical little thing saves many an artist from hearing what producers really think of how they sang that last song or played that last rift. I can see them arguing, but not a single word is audible.

  I open the door and walk out, safe from attack now that she’s distracted him. “I have to go you guys. Super hungry.”

  Mom rises. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Dad sits in the chair. “Code for girl talk.”

  “Which you do not want to hear.”

  He groans, “No, I don’t.”

  Mom straightens a frame and wipes a smudge on the glass. It’s one of Simone’s hit records. “I swear Gabriel tilts this on his way out just to mess with me.”

  There’s a chill in the air that makes us fold our arms for warmth. “I wonder if we’ll get snow this year.”

  It’s not like her to stall. I mutter, “We didn’t have much last year. But it’s so unpredictable.”

  Her almond brown eyes lock onto mine. They’re what I inherited from her. The only things. “Have you slept with Asher, honey?”

  I smooth my hair self-consciously, glancing away to answer, “Not yet.”

  “Would he be your first?”

  I cut a surprised glance to find her just as uncomfortable as I am. I’m twenty-two. Does she really think I’m still a virgin. Zoe is, but Zoe is not of this planet. We all know that. “No, he wouldn’t be my first, Mom.”

  Her eyebrows go up as she struggles with her reaction. “You never told me.”

  “Did Max and Caden tell you?”

  “No, but Lexi did, and girls are different.”

  “Why?”

  Mom runs her hand down my arm. “Because we’re women. I’m your mom, and I want to know when my girls have the biggest experiences of their lives. Max and Caden told your father, but they never would’ve told me. I’m sure some sons tell their mothers, but can you imagine them coming to me instead of your dad?”

  I exhale, feeling bad about being this argumentative today. It’s covering up what I’m not telling. That’s my fault. They shouldn’t pay for this. “Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  I stare at her a second and remember her face when her curly red hair was long and wild. It doesn’t touch her shoulders now, and there are wrinkles where there were none. It’s the same with Dad, these little changes have shown up as if overnight. They’re growing older. Everyone is. Grandpa and Grandma are looking less robust, for lack of a better word considering how powerful their presences have always been. Grams is a whisper of a woman.

  Time keeps passing.

  None of us can stop it.

  Do I want to spend it away from the people I love most?

  Instead of telling her about the tugging news I came with, I confess an honest, “I wish I would’ve told you about my first time. Even if there wasn’t much to say.”

  She scrunches her nose just like Lexi always does. “Was it that bad?”

  “I’ve forgotten.”

  “Ooooh! That bad? Oh no!”

  Smiling, I give her a hug, “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too, Sammy. I’m here whenever you need me. So is your father. If you’re falling in love, we are both happy for you.” At my lifted eyebrow, Mom shrugs, “Give him time. He’s always had a soft spot for Logan.”

  I roll my eyes and head for the Subaru. “Everyone needs to get over this whole me-and-Logan thing!”

  “Your sister home tonight?” Mom asks, referring to our shared vehicle being at my disposal when it’s normally the other way around.

  Walking backwards a couple steps I shrug, “Yeah, she went to bed early. Bye!”

  And she did go to bed early.

  Just not to hers.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Logan

  “Hey Logan,” smiles Marion as she lets me into her
apartment. “My roommate is getting ready for work.” She motions to the sound of a hair dryer in the background.

  “No worries. I just wanted to check on you.” Raking my hair back, I stroll into her messy living room. Not dirty, just cluttered. Since I’ve never been here before I don’t know if this is normal. But she’s such a fastidious person when it comes to dance, I would be surprised if she was a slob. Hey, maybe this is where she lets her hair down, figuratively and literally. “You doing all right?”

  She thumps along the floor, hauling the heavy cast to the couch where she plops down. “Let’s just say I’ve caught up on my reading.”

  “I bet,” I mutter.

  “If you want something to drink, you’re going to have to get it yourself.” She jogs her thumb toward the kitchen which I can see a slice of from here.

  Glancing over to a picture of a recital the three of us were in when we were 10 years old, I pick it up. There are seven other kids in the photo. We’re in denim from head to toe, including our cowboy hats. “I remember this. Why did you keep this picture?” Glancing to her I add, “You took this from your dad’s?”

  “It was the only one he didn’t mind if I took.”

  “Did you like this number?”

  “No way. It was the cheesiest one we’ve ever done. Are you kidding? I have taste, Logan, give me some credit.”

  I barely hear her because I’m looking at ten-year-old Samantha. This is when we were the same height. Then she had a growing spurt and surpassed me. I finally won that race. Setting the pink frame down I clear my throat and face Marion. “I had a good time that day.”

  Her jaw drops. “You did? Why? Those moves were the most formulaic. Didn’t you think that? How could you not have thought that?”

  A smile tugs because she is not wrong. “My sister came to that show, and it was the one she liked the most. Sam and I thought that was very funny.”

  “That’s what you guys were laughing about?”

  I cock my head as I sit on the red ottoman across from her. “You remember us laughing?”

  On a self-conscious shrug, Marion admits, “I remember a lot of times when you guys were doing things without me.”

  “We were best friends.”

  “That doesn’t make it any easier to watch.”

  “This is news to me.”

  “Is it? Or is it just that I’m saying it out loud and you have to face it.”

  Throwing up my hands I say, “Look, I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

  “I’m not fighting—”

  “—And if you feel like you were left out when we were kids, I don’t really know what to tell you. It wasn’t intentional. We were kids. Some people you just click with. Sam and I clicked. It was like we were meant to…” I let it trail off. Marion and I sit in silence for a second. I’m staring at the floor and she’s staring at me.

  “How is the show going?”

  Muttering, “Good,” I start tapping my foot. “This is probably a touchy subject but…it’s looks like I’m headed for Broadway.”

  Marion starts crying. I swear under my breath as she covers her face and lets the wails take over. Unabashed howling.

  The hairdryer turns off in the bathroom and I hear heavy footsteps hurrying toward us. I expected a female roommate. But this guy ain’t that. He’s in blue jeans, no shirt, with the muscles and long hair of a Viking. I’m well built, but dancers are meant to fly. This guy is meant to fight. “Marion, who’s this? Is he bothering you?”

  I blink a couple times.

  She waves him away like he’s annoying her. “This is my friend Logan! Leave us alone, Troy!”

  “Are you sure?” Thick eyebrows knot with concern for her. “You want me to get you a tissue?”

  “Do I look like I need a tissue?”

  He lumbers off and returns with one. I am speechless, bewildered even, as I watch her take it as if he’s just handed her a bag of flaming dog-shit. Troy glances from me to her and marches back to the bathroom, slamming the door.

  What. Just. Happened.

  “Hey, uh,” I begin, trying to get my head around that. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I figured it was better to rip off the Band-Aid and come out with it.”

  She blows her nose, wiping it a couple times before balling up the tissue and placing it on the couch next to her. “Rub it in, Logan, well done.”

  “You know me better than that.”

  Her shoulders relax as she huffs, “Fine. Why did you come here?”

  “I could just be checking on how your leg is.”

  “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

  “No.”

  “You are here because of something that has to do with Samantha. I don’t know what it is, but for sure it has to do with Sam. So why don’t you just spit it out so I can go back to watching my sad movies. I’m in a grieving process. I am crying as often as possible so that this doesn’t haunt me for the rest of my life. And I don’t care if it disturbs all of the men in my life. Including you! Including my dad!” She raises her voice to reach the bathroom. “And that includes you, too, Troy!”

  He yanks open the door to shout, “I just don’t like to see you cry!”

  “Get over it!”

  “I’m trying to help you!”

  “Well, stop!”

  The door slams again.

  She rubs her forehead, muttering, “Jeesh.”

  The door opens, we hear thunderous footsteps marching across the hall. Another door slams a second later as he presumably sulks in his bedroom.

  Marion locks eyes with me and waves her hand like she wants me to get on with it already.

  I’m speechless. “Uh…uh…”

  “Just spit it out!”

  “It’s kind of a sensitive subject. I’m not sure if you’re in the right headspace.”

  Her chin dips as she looks at me from underneath her slender eyebrows. “If you hold me back from watching my super sad drama movies, I am never going to be in the right headspace. What is it you want to tell me? That Samantha is going to Broadway? Do you think I don’t already know that? Do you think those tears were because you are going?”

  My mouth was hanging open. I clamp it shut, shrug, and launch in, “What do you think about Asher, Marion?”

  “I think he purposely let me fall so that Samantha would get the shot that I was made for. That’s what I think of Asher. I think he’s a scheming fuckhead who deserves someone to take him back to his knees — that’s what I think of Asher.”

  I stammer, “Wait, hold on a second. You believe he did that and you’re not pursuing any kind of legal action against him?”

  “There’s no way of proving it. I can’t even be sure. But I have a sneaking suspicion that snuck in right as it happened!”

  “He’s going to Broadway after doing that to you!”

  She throws her disgusting tissue at me. “Logan, you better get thicker skin if you’re going to be in show business.”

  I dodged the goo-ball, and now I’m staring at it on the floor by my sneaker. “That’s what Galloway said.”

  “She knows what she’s talking about, obviously. That’s why we listen to her. What I don’t get about you is how your head can be so far up your ass.”

  I stand, getting angry. “Because I have some integrity, my head’s up my ass?”

  Marion’s eyebrows fly up. “Yes!”

  “Whatever. If you don’t care that he did that to you, then I don’t care either.”

  “Oh I care that he did it. I just know something you aren’t capable of knowing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If I were in his shoes, maybe I would’ve done the same. Asher and me, we’re the types who go places.”

  I sneer in disgust, “Looks like you’re not going anywhere anytime soon,” and walk right out the door.

  Chapter Twenty

  Samantha

  “It’s the last show, Lexi, and I still haven’t told Mom and Dad I’m moving to New York indefini
tely.” My head drops onto my dressing room table, fresh flowers to my right and left.

  “I brought reinforcements.”

  With my eyes closed and forehead pressed against the cool wood, I groan, “Zoe can’t help me with this. God bless her but she keeps urging me to drive over there and tell them. Or call them. Or text. I can’t!”

  Our baby brother’s voice surprises me. “You need a few lessons, Sam. Learn from the best.”

  I sit upright to discover Hunter standing next to Lexi, the two gingers with their arms crossed like they mean business.

  “We don’t have a lot of time, so let me cut to the chase.” He locks the door, muttering to Lexi, “Can never be too careful.”

  “Are you going to teach me how to live under the radar?” I gasp, excited I might learn about Hunter. He is like a stealth ninja, living a life of secrecy. None of us even knows where he lives. We’ve never met his friends. When he and I were at the same high school I saw them walking with him sometimes, always in silence with the kind of masculine strut you see in action movies when there’s something blowing up behind the hero.

  He jogs his square chin to Lexi. “I’m not the only one who sneaks around, not that I call it sneaking. That’s more what Lexi does.”

  “Hey!”

  “Don’t play dumb. It insults me. It’s a good thing you called me, because if Samantha learned from you that would be a joke.”

  Lexi drops her hands. “Hey!”

  “We all know who Brad is. You have any idea who I am dating? Have you ever heard of any person I have ever dated?”

  “You didn’t have Samantha running around with you as a witness.”

  I defend myself, “Never once have I ratted on you and Brad. You’re the one who always gets caught. I always play innocent.” Pointing at her, I remind her, “How many times have you seen me acting dumb when Max or Caden grill me?”

  Hunter chuckles, “This is your problem. Both of you. Your emotions rule you. How do you think you're going to live covertly if we can read everything you’re thinking on your faces, or you fly off the handle at the slightest provocation?” He holds up one finger. “Lesson one. Hide your feelings.” Another finger pops up. “Lesson two. Don’t ever tell anyone what you’re up to.” A third finger. “Lesson three. If they ask, don’t answer.” He crosses his arms, cuts a superior look to Lexi before landing it on me.