Cocky Quarterback: Eric Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 12)

by Faleena Hopkins

  “Yeah…uh huh. Look how tight.”

  “Tight?” I gasp with laughter.

  “My muscles are tight! Not the water! Come on, what are you thinking? But look at these abs!” He turns around, no longer in the reflection.

  I step back.

  He walks closer and slams the dryer with his elbow, flexing that bicep, wagging his eyebrows. The air blasts out with gusto and Eric arches into it, thrusting his chest and running his hands down it, then dragging them through his hair, wet tufts of underarm fuzz glistening. He sways his hips, purposefully going for the laugh as he lifts a leg to a beat only he can hear.

  I’m practically crying from laughter.

  “This air is filled with…heat and it’s got me dancin’ so hard. Oh yeah, the air is hard! Rock hard air!”

  I slap the wall, doubled over.

  He finally breaks, cracking up and reaching for his abandoned shirt. “Oh shit,” he mutters on a grin, shaking his head at himself. “Something is seriously wrong with me.”

  Unable to stop laughing I croak, “My stomach is cramping!”

  “Where’s my dollar? Don’t you want to stick a dollar right here?”

  “Screw that,” I gasp, grinning, “You’re supposed to tip me.”

  “Did you say tip? I’ve got a tip for you.”

  “We really need to use the bathroom!” a female voice calls through the wood.

  Wiping my eyes I call out, “Hang on! Almost done,” and hurry around him to gather myself. I pull my ponytail free and fix it as best I can. “Screw it, right? It’s not gonna get any better than this.”

  In the reflection I see him coming at me, so I spin around and back into the wall as his hazel eyes hold me prisoner. His smile is gone, voice deeper than before. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

  “Wren.”

  His gaze narrows like he’s memorizing it. Then his lashes drop to my lips and flick back up. “You look beautiful. Don’t get in your head. Own it and nobody will give a shit that your hair’s damp. And no, I’m not going to tell my team something happened in here when it didn’t. I might be a slut, but I’m no liar. And I’m certainly not a prick.”

  Suddenly I’m alone here, pressed to the wall as he strolls to unlock the door, waiting for me to walk out first.

  Confused I ask, “You’re not going to put on your shirt?”

  “We need to sell more tickets, don’t we? I’m gonna inspire the girls to open their wallets. Time to show ‘em what I’m workin’ with.” He makes his pecs dance, wiggling his eyebrows.

  “You’re going to drive them crazy.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears.”

  “Tragic.”

  “If you say so.”

  We walk outside.

  Instantly every woman who sees him freezes to ogle our half-naked quarterback.

  It takes me two seconds to read their expressions as their mascara flicks my way.

  They think he’s naked because we fooled around. Everyone assumes the slut here isn’t him—it’s me.

  And on the clock no less.

  Eric announces, “Ladies, you mind if I’m shirtless?”

  A chorus of no’s fills the air.

  My heart starts pounding, face bright red.

  Chapter 6

  ERIC

  “Just keep moving,” I tell Wren, “I’ll handle this.”

  An unsure glance locks onto me. Instantly I’m inspired to protect her. I know what people are thinking. Only an idiot couldn’t see it. Grinning and loud, I announce to anyone listening, “Nothing happened in there. I’m topless because my shirt’s a wreck, it’s hot as fuck out today.”

  Wren smiles with relief, disappearing into the mass.

  To remove the remaining doubt from the faces of my buddies I tell Tony, “You’re right. Those legs are locked, key long gone.”

  The group laughs, mostly at me. Mott resembles a cave man, all grunts and jerking shoulders. “Looks like Cocker’s gonna have to work harder to win that bet.”

  Tony snickers, “Yeah, right?”

  Chuckling I notice our diminished numbers. “I didn’t take the stupid bet, you fucks. And where’d everybody go? Party over so early?”

  “Fuck you didn’t!” Tony barks.

  Shooting him an amused negative I grab my forgotten mug and down my beer. “Guess we don’t get those shots after all, huh? Mike make more of ‘em?”

  But Tony won’t drop it. “A bet’s a bet!”

  My face goes bland, “Are you crazy? You think I’d bet on something like that? I thought you were joking.”

  Mott confirms, “Can’t take it back now, Cocker.”

  “Ever hear of sarcasm? I don’t bet on having sex with women. Jeezus, if my sister heard about that, my whole family would descend upon me, an uprising of Biblical proportion, with me in ashes at the end of it.” I give a nod to a half-full pitcher. “Hand me that. Everybody left, huh? More for us, right?”

  Under his breath Tony grumbles, “A bets a bet.”

  “I didn’t take the bet!”

  “Sounded like you did.”

  “That’s because you don’t get my subtle sense of humor, or you’re not too bright. Now drop it. I’m out. Never was in. Clear your head and let it go.”

  Both he and Mott sulk while Bethany, the girl hanging on his arm, cuddles with him. “Let’s go,” she smiles, trying to lighten Tony’s mood.

  It works. He stands straighter, squeezes her close and kisses her like no one is watching, before he mutters to us, eyeing me like I jilted him, “See you at practice.”

  Mott and I dip our heads and raise our mugs in salute as Tony leads his lady-of-the-hour out. I think this is the first time they’ve gone home together. I know for a fact she left with Rhami a few times last season, but it never stuck. Glancing to her friends I see a very pretty blonde eyeing us, hoping she’ll be chosen. Uninterested I turn to Mott. He spotted her, too.

  Under his breath so she can’t hear, he asks, “You want her?”

  I whisper back, “Not feeling it.”

  “I’ll catch you later.” We knock shoulders and he heads over.

  Cocking an eyebrow with my lukewarm mug hovering in front of my lips, I watch his primal seduction go down. The chest puffed up like a peacock. Massive arms flexed a little so she can see the goods. The confident smirk on his bull-like face.

  She’s doing the dance, too. Toying with her hair. Giving her full lips a little nibble. Tilting her head to make her eyes big and vulnerable.

  “Hey,” he says, voice deep as it will go.

  Hers is soft and high as a saucy smile curves her mouth. “Hi there.”

  “I’m Mott.”

  “Kimberly.”

  “You a fan of the Falcons, Kimberly?”

  Biting her lip on an excited grin she hums, “Mmhmm.”

  “You a fan of this guy?” He jabs his chest with his thumb.

  Again she nods, blue eyes shining even brighter, “Mmhmm.”

  “Mind if I pick you up and carry you out of here?”

  Her eyelashes flash wide in surprise. Then she raises both arms, purse in one hand. He grunts his approval, hooks an arm around her, and plants a kiss just like that. Kimberly wraps girlish arms around his beefy neck and they make out as he barrels through the crowd, people jumping like popcorn as they see the beast coming.

  Dion and I are the only ones left, and we are laughing our balls off, quietly so Mott doesn’t take it personally. You don’t want to make him mad, and sometimes he takes himself, and life, far too seriously.

  I turn my head and see Wren watching the scene. Like she felt my eyes land on her, she glances over, copper eyes filled with humor. I motion her over.

  She flickers, shakes her head and returns to the bar.

  Dion noticed all of it. “Pretty girl, huh? Not like these ones, more solid you know?”

  “Yeah, she’s interesting.”

  “Something happen in that bathroom? You’re just protecting her, aren’t you?�
��

  Eyeing him I confess, “I’m protecting her because nothing happened. But people won’t believe it and you and I both know that can fuck with a girl.”

  Pursing his full lips he nods, dark eyes narrowing in darker skin. “Damn shame.”

  “But it’s the truth.”

  “Yep.” We both take a sip, knowing we can’t change the world even if there are parts of it we hate. Dion changes the subject, somewhat. “I took her friend home last week.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “The waitress who’s normally here.”

  “Oh right, what’s her name?”

  “Eleanor.” He sucks in air through his teeth in appreciation. “That girl better keep my number. Man, she is somethin’ else. Like your girl there, real salt-of-the-Earth type. Latina, but she got that fire under control, you know what I’m saying? Real easy-goin’ type. Like a man could get comfortable.” He downs the beer, clamps a hand on my shoulder and says, “Anyway, thought she’d be here but since she ain’t, I’m goin’ home, watch some TV.”

  “I’ll catch you at practice.”

  We bump fists and he heads into the crowd, girls smiling at him, one after the other ignored and disappointed.

  Coming up behind Wren at her computer I’m a lot like Mott was, puffing up, voice deeper. “You have some opinions you’d like to share?”

  “If I was going to share them I would have come when you called me.”

  I lean against the wall so I can see her face, so she can see mine. “You saying I treated you like a dog?”

  She shrugs, typing away and looking at her notes. “Maybe.”

  “I just wanted to talk to you.”

  “Then walk over and talk. Don’t crook your finger like you own me.”

  “What if I wanted to own you…for a little while?”

  Her chin juts out, eyes hardening to cut me in two. “Remember I said I have a boyfriend?”

  “Been with a few girls who’ve had them.”

  Her top lip curls and she flips around, waiting for Mike to come over and fill those drink orders. Highly entertained I rest my elbows on the bar. “Now don’t get all judgmental.”

  “That’s cheating.”

  “Did I say I cheated?”

  “They cheated and you knew about it!”

  “It was their relationships, not mine. I don’t cheat.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  Getting a little irritated I counter, “Not the same thing at all, it’s not my relationship.”

  “If you knew that someone could get hurt…”

  “Someone can always get hurt. That’s part of life.”

  Wren mutters, eyes dead, “Wow. Okay, good to know. You’re just like I thought you were.”

  I don’t know why this cuts me but it does. I rise up off my elbows and defend myself. “I’m just playing around here.”

  She turns to face me, copper eyes glinting as she lays down the law, “It doesn’t matter that you’re handsome or famous or one of the best quarterbacks in the NFL, I am a faithful person and I have a boyfriend. Even laughing with you as much as I did in the bathroom, is questionable. If Peter were here he’d be jealous and I would never do that to him. And if other girls don’t care about their boyfriends and want to fuck you just to say they did, that’s on them. And if you want to play that game, great. You’re a wonderful person. Not selfish at all. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really have to work.”

  Shocked and angry, I throw up my hands and back off. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Thank you!”

  I storm off, irritation under my skin so bad that I have to flip around and stroll back.

  Wren glances up from stacking the fresh drinks Mike is making for her. He pauses at my return. But I ignore him and lean in a little so the conversation stays between us. Well, the three of us, because he’s too close not to hear.

  “Your boyfriend better know how lucky he is.”

  Her lips part and I hold her gaze, knock on the bar and leave her with that.

  Chapter 7

  WREN

  House keys jingle to the coffee table as I collapse on the couch in my studio apartment and exhale a relieved sigh. I thought that shift would never end. Working a double on a Sunday after two closing bartender-shifts Friday and Saturday night, was brutal.

  My feet hate me.

  And my legs agree that I suck.

  “Sorry ladies,” I mumble, kicking off my sneakers and snuggling them closer so I can rub the arches. “Oh, you are pissed, aren’t you?” Wincing I massage deeper to release the knots. “Let it all go. It’s over, I promise.”

  Retrieving the folded up napkins from my pockets I count three half-completed songs. Reading my nearly illegible hand-writing I smile and whisper, “These aren’t half bad.”

  My phone vibrates with a text message—Eleanor’s name on the screen.

  Got a sec 2 talk?

  “Huh, I was sure you’d be Peter,” I mutter, dialing her back without hesitation. “Hey El, you guys have fun?”

  Happy and exhausted she informs me, “Normally I have to trick or beg them to sleep. Tonight they put themselves to bed!”

  “So you did stay until the end.”

  “We were the last ones in the park. Us and about fifty other die-hards waited until we were kicked out! My ex had them home before dinner. Probably had some cooz waiting for him. Or maybe he just got bored. Who knows. But not me! We opened and closed Six Flags and I win!”

  Throwing my feet atop the back of the couch I wiggle my toes in hopes the blood will return to where it belongs. “That’s awesome.”

  “You sound tired! How was today?”

  “Long but profitable.”

  Her voice softens, “Thank you so much, Wren, really.”

  “Anytime. You know that.”

  “The Falcons were there today, right?”

  I mutter, “Yeah, they came in. The girls today were a disaster. Practically begging to go home with a player. So bummed when they left alone. It was pathetic.”

  She laughs, “It’s pretty bad, but who can blame them. Those guys are so meaty and strong and you just want to climb them! Did I tell you I went home with a Tight End.”

  My legs fly off the back of the couch as I sit up. “You what?!”

  “And let me tell you, the money I had to pay extra for the babysitter was worth every shiny dime.”

  Shooting up to standing I tug my hair free of the hair tie, rubbing my head on the way to the kitchen. “I can’t believe you held this valuable information from me. Who was it?”

  “Dion Lewis, number—”

  “81,” I recite with her. “Yeah, I know who he is. He’s a talented blocker.”

  “Who cares about that? I love his fingers. And his other larger appendage.”

  Laughing I open a pine cupboard and dig out my coveted box of Fig Newtons. “Are you going to see him again?”

  Her trademark snort prefaces a casual, “Yeah right. Pretty sure it was a one-off. Which is fine. I knew that going in.”

  “You’re okay with it?” Stuffing the cookie in my addicted mouth I wait for an explanation, hoping she’s being honest with herself. I don’t want my friend getting hurt.

  “Wren,” she begins, already sounding like she’s full of shit. “Some men are made for fucking. He reminded me that I’m a woman. I have a body that needs to be loved on. Felt up. Sucked. Fucked. All of it. No, don’t roll your eyes.”

  With my mouth full I object, “I’m not!”

  “I don’t have to see you to know that you are rolling your damn eyes! So did any of the players try to hit on you?”

  “Eric.”

  “What?!! And you’re alone right now?”

  “I would never touch that guy, El. Ever. Not with your hands, not with mine.”

  “A little primitive maybe…”

  “Unevolved is a better description.”

  “Tomato, Tomahto. Why, what’d he do?”

  My mind trav
els back to his stripper dance in the bathroom, and how much I laughed. But that doesn’t matter because, “He told me he’s slept with cheaters.”

  “Wait, he told you he cheated?”

  “He slept with girls he knew were with someone.”

  Silence then a cautious, “Wren.”

  “No, don’t give me that voice.”

  “Look honey, I know how you feel about this—”

  “If you know someone’s taken you should leave them alone!” I toss the empty box in the recycling.

  “Are you saying that because you were tempted today?”

  Leaning against the counter with the moonlight peeking into my blinds I steady my voice, “Of course he’s tempting but you know I’d never cheat!”

  “Because you’re not a cheater.”

  “Right.”

  “But those girls are.”

  I stretch one of my sore feet, struggling to understand her meaning. “So?”

  “If you were tempted but said no then that’s on you. If they were and said yes, then that’s on them. It’s the cheater you blame.”

  “This is a slippery slope, El, and I don’t agree with you, I’m sorry.”

  She sighs, “I love your morals but they don’t leave room for human failings.”

  “What?!”

  “Eric Cocker is as sexy as they come. He’s famous. He makes you feel like you’re the most beautiful woman in the room if he pays even the tiniest bit of attention to you. Those women might need that. And with him, he’s no threat to their relationship because he won’t settle down or even remember who they are afterward! So they can taste the fountain, dip their pussies in it, and nothing gets broken!”

  Smiling at the visual I mutter, “If their boyfriends found out, they would be hurt and that’s enough reason to never do it.”

  “Okay, we are not going to agree on this.”

  “Fine.”

  Silence before she also mutters, “Fine.”

  Now I feel terrible, and while I won’t budge on this issue I don’t want to lose my friend over it for even a minute. “People aren’t perfect. I get it. I just don’t think cheating is ever okay. But hey, I still love you even if I don’t agree with you.”

  Eleanor’s voice softens, “I know. I love you, too. Just try not to be so perfect all the time. Nobody can live up to it. Life isn’t black and white.”