Cocky Striker: A Hero Club Novel Read online

  COCKY STRIKER

  by Evan Grace

  Copyright © 2020

  by Author Evan Grace and Cocky Hero Club, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Editor and Formatting: Silla Webb @ Masque at the Red Pen Publishing

  Proofreading by: Melissa Lambert Derda

  Photo by: Reggie Deanching @ RplusMphoto

  Model: Cody Smith-Model

  Cover Design: Marie @ Steamy Reads

  -Author’s Note-

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Epilogue I

  Epilogue II

  -Stay Connected with Me-

  -About the Author-

  -Acknowledgments-

  -Author’s Note-

  Cocky Striker takes place twenty-two years after Cocky Bastard. When I decided to write Chance and Aubrey's son's book, logically Pixy would not still be alive, but I couldn't fathom bringing Chance Jr.’s story to life without including Pixy, AKA Mutton.

  Chapter One

  Chance

  “I can’t believe this is your last year of college.” Mom cups my face in her hands. “My baby boy is all grown up.”

  I roll my eyes and pull her into a hug. “I love you, you crazy woman.” She climbs in, and I kiss her cheek one more time before closing the door to my dad’s Land Cruiser.

  She rolls down her window. “Study hard, try not to party too hard, and”—she drops her voice down to a whisper—“wear condoms.” Mom then gives me a goofy smile while rolling her window back up.

  Dad chuckles from beside me. “Princess, you’re a nut.” He turns to me. His blue eyes that are identical to mine begin to shine bright. “You’ve made us so proud, bud. Make sure you live up your last year.”

  “Why are you both getting all deep on me? Are you sick? Is Mom?” Fuck, I didn’t think about that. What if something’s wrong?

  He laughs. “No, I promise. We’re both good. I’m just proud of you and how well you’ve done these past three years. I know you’re no angel, but your grades have always been excellent and your soccer game has always been on point. It makes us proud that you handle your business, but you’re having a good time too.”

  Out of the two of them, Dad’s always been the more lenient one—maybe because he says I am just like him, or how he was when he was my age. He pulls me into a backslapping hug. “I love you, Son.”

  I slap his back. “I love you too.”

  As he walks around the front end, he announces, loudly, “Remember to wrap it up.” His booming laugh causes me to shake my head. Who am I kidding? Both of my parents are nuts.

  My baby sister comes up, throwing her arms around me. Bree is my mom’s mini-me and is just as tiny as she is. She’s two years younger than I am, but we’ve always been close.

  “Keep an eye on those crazy people who created us.” I kiss the top of her head.

  She smiles up at me. “I’m gonna miss you.”

  “You realize I’m only two and half hours away, right?”

  “I know, but you’ll be busy with school and soccer. I guess I could always come visit. Check out your hot frat brothers.”

  I shove her playfully. “They’re all dogs—stay away from them.” I open the back door for her. Bree giggles as she climbs in. She loves fucking with me. Truth is, she goes for guys who are the complete opposites of my brothers—they usually have beards, hang out at poetry readings, and are almost always vegan.

  My family rolls down the windows as they begin to pull away. I shake my head as they all shout their goodbyes to me; my sister and mother wave like lunatics as they drive away.

  “Chance, what’s up brother?” my buddy Jace crosses the street coming to me. We exchange the typical half handshake, half hug.

  “Not much, man. I’m sure you saw the parentals just left. When did you get here?” We walk across the street and up to the doors of our frat house, Pi Beta Pi.

  “Last night. I still can’t believe you’re not living here this year. It won’t be the same without you,” Jace says as we step inside.

  “Yeah, I know, but I think it’s just better this way. I’m staying across the street so I’ll always be close.”

  It was an easy decision, honestly, to move out of the house after last year. The guys are great, and they’re my brothers, but I’ve always lived with someone, and I’m honestly looking forward to having my own space.

  Soccer practice starts tomorrow, and it’s kind of nice being on campus about a week before the other students arrive. Prior to classes it’s usually just the athletes and the marching band that are on campus.

  Jace and I make the rounds saying hey to everyone. I don’t see my best friend/brother, Trey, yet and decide to walk back to my place. My apartment being across the street makes it feel like I still live at the house, but I have my privacy.

  My Harley, my pride and joy, sits at the curb in front of the brick building, the sun shining down on her black paint and chrome. I got my love for riding from my dad. He helped me find her, fix her up, and get her running. It’s not unusual for him and me to hop on our bikes and ride for hours.

  I dig my keys out of my shorts and let myself into my apartment. My mom and sister went to town decorating my little studio. It looks like a hotel suite with a kitchen. The whole place is decorated in grays, reds, and whites.

  My queen-sized mattress is against the far wall with a nightstand next to it. The down comforter is a slate gray color with red and white plaid sheets. They put up a wooden folding screen next to my bed to hide it from view when necessary.

  The place is almost too small for the sofa I got from my aunt and uncle when they got new furniture, but it’s so comfortable. My coffee table is the same colored wood as the screen. I’d describe it as a distressed grey.

  The kitchen area is separated from the rest of the space by a breakfast bar that sits two barstools I bought used. Dad and I stripped and sanded them before refinishing them.

  The big appliances came with the place, and I have a washer and dryer right down the hall. It’s not bad, and the money I made working for my dad this summer covered a good portion of my rent. My parents paid the rest because they knew it would be hard with soccer and then my studies to have a job.

 
Practice starts tomorrow morning, and I’m looking forward to it. I’ve played soccer since I can remember or, as my dad tells it, as soon as I could walk. My dad played professional soccer in Australia. He was a bit famous for a while because of a poster that still had made him a lot of money.

  It was in my blood to play the game. I’m the captain of the team and a center forward, or the main striker. I thought about going pro instead of finishing school, but my dad played one game before his career was over, and I wanted a career that was going to last longer than a soccer career would.

  I’m majoring in business with a minor in marketing. My hope is to work in sports marketing with a sports team. This last year is going to be tough, but in the end it’ll be worth it when I’m working my dream job.

  I know my dad was a little disappointed that I didn’t want to go into the landscape business with him. I enjoy working alongside him in the summer, but I don’t want to do that forever. I want to carve out my own path.

  For dinner I heat up some leftovers Mom set me up with. I could go meet up with the guys and hit the bars—see what the girl situation is—but I have to be at the field at eight in the morning. Coming to the first practice of the year hungover or sleep deprived is not the impression I want to make.

  Don’t get me wrong, I like to party as much as the next guy, but I’m all business when it comes to soccer.

  ***

  “Chance, lead the boys in a warm-up drill,” Coach McLaughlin shouts before walking off the field.

  I turn to face my teammates. We run through a kick drill, then lunges, followed by inside out/outside in. After that we split up into our groups. The other forwards and I start shooting drills.

  By the time practice is over I’m lying on my back in the middle of the field. Trey, who has been my best friend since kindergarten and one of our goalkeepers, holds a hand out to me, helping me off the ground.

  “What’s up, bro? When did you get in?”

  We walk toward the gym and head into the locker room. “We were running late, so it was about eight-thirty before we got here. They basically unloaded my shit and left. My mattress is on the floor right now because I didn’t have time to put the frame together.”

  “Your parents are crazier than mine.” I mean that in the most loving way. His mom and dad are my second mom and dad.

  “I don’t know. You guys have that damn goat. We have a normal pet, a dog.” I shake my head and make my way to my locker.

  I take a shower then throw on some basketball shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. I throw my sunglasses on as I head back to my place. A group of cheerleaders wave as I walk by. “Ladies.”

  A couple of them and I have gotten real acquainted with each other over the past three years. “Chance, you should totally call me.” Kylie or Kaylee is her name, I feel bad I can’t really remember what it is for sure, calls out.

  “We’ll see, maybe. I’ll see you around.” I walk by and know they’re talking about me as I walk toward my apartment.

  This is going to be an amazing fucking year, I can feel it.

  Chapter Two

  Laken

  After blow drying my hair, I twist it up into a bun on top of my head. It’s too hot to have it touching my neck. Once it’s all pinned up, I head back into my bedroom and thrown on a pair of worn jean shorts—you know the ones that are so worn they’re super soft. They’re threadbare in spots and fit like the most comfortable glove.

  I put on a black cami with a built-in bra because my boobs are basically non-existent. Over that I throw on my Stick Figure tank top. My dad bought it for me when he took me to see them earlier this summer. Dad’s all about that reggae life and is a concert-aholic.

  I slip on my tennis shoes and grab my bag then head out into the living room where my roommate/best friend, Nicole, is doing yoga. I walk past her and slap her ass, only because it’s pointed up in the air … easy target.

  “Hey,” she says from her downward facing dog position. “You should join me.”

  “I would, but I want to get to the bookstore. A couple of the books I need weren't available online.”

  “Have fun with that. Meet for lunch later?” She’s now on the floor on all fours.

  “Yeah, just text me what time, and I’ll meet you there.” I shut the door behind me as I step out into the hall.

  Instead of riding my bicycle, I decide to drive, but only because those textbooks have a tendency to be heavy, and I don’t want to break my back trying to lug them to my apartment.

  Once I’m on campus, it takes me a good ten minutes to find a parking spot close enough to the bookstore. As I go to pull into the spot, a motorcycle whips past me and into my spot.

  I roll down my window. “Hey, jerkwad, that was my spot.” He climbs off his bike and takes his helmet off. I don’t like the way my heart races when I get a good look at his face. He’s possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, but I quickly push that aside because motorcycle dude comes strutting over to my open window. “You took my spot.”

  He looks at the spot and then back at me. “I don’t see your name on it.” His grin is one I’m sure he uses on lots of girls. Too bad his charms aren’t going to work on me.

  I repeat, Kill him with kindness, over and over in my head. Maybe he’ll move if I ask nicely. I force a pleasant smile that I hope he can’t tell is a fake. “No, my name is not on it, but you see I was waiting for the girl to pull out, and as soon as she pulled out, you pulled in. I had my signal on and everything.” Frick, kill me now.

  He leans against my open window, and I ignore that clean and woodsy scent wafting off of him and into my nose. “Well then, I appreciate you holding the spot for me.” He shoots me a wink, drawing my attention to his gorgeous blue eyes. “Later, beautiful.” He walks away, and it takes everything in me not to run him over with my car.

  It takes me ten more minutes to find a spot, and now I’m stuck in the back forty of the lot. My anger builds as sweat begins to roll down my back. I stop just outside the bookstore and take a deep breath.

  The cool air hits me as soon as I step inside, and my freaking nipples get hard immediately. I remember a time when they weren’t this large—oh well, nothing I can do about it now except shift my bag so they’re hidden.

  I pull out the paper copy of my schedule and the list of books I still need. This place is so huge. By now I should be used to it, but I always manage to get lost.

  I’m weaving my way through the aisles and people when I hear a high-pitched giggle. At the end of the aisle is dickhead the parking spot thief surrounded by a bleach blonde harem. He looks up at me and shoots me a cocky grin. I suppose he thinks that’s supposed to make me swoon, but instead I stick out my tongue and flip him the bird.

  I head down an aisle when he appears at the end. I ignore him and try to move past him, but he stops me with a hand on my arm. “That wasn’t very nice back there.” He sounds like a wounded puppy, and that damn intoxicating scent wraps around me, but I ignore how it makes me feel.

  “You’re right; I’m sorry.” See, I can be nice. “See you around.”

  I pull my arm from his grip and walk away. I don’t look, but I can feel his eyes on me the whole way. When I finally turn the corner, I lean against the shelf and take a deep breath. I’m never a mean person, and I shouldn’t have reacted like that.

  Good thing this is a huge campus, and I’ll probably never see him.

  ***

  I set my books on my desk, along with my notebooks and pens. Classes start in the morning, and I want to make sure I’m prepared. I’m a little OCD, I know, but I don’t like to feel rushed, so I want to be ready to just throw my stuff in my bag and go.

  The front door opens, and I call out, “Hey, Nicole.”

  She appears in my doorway. “Hey, girlie, getting all ready to start senior year tomorrow I see.” Nicole sits down on my bed.

  “You know me. It’s so irritating, but I can’t help myse
lf.” I’ve checked everything twice already, but once classes start the anxiety goes away, and then the OCD seems to go away or lessens.

  She yawns, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”

  Nicole comes toward me. I hug her and kiss her on the cheek. “Goodnight.”

  “Tell Ava I said hi.” She disappears into the hall and into her room.

  I close my door and grab my laptop off of my desk and send my mom a quick text.

  Laken: I’m ready when you are.

  It takes a few minutes before the dots start to bounce.

  Mom: Yay! We’re all ready.

  I open my laptop and pull up the FaceTime app. I click on my mom’s name, and it starts making that familiar ringing sound. In seconds Mom’s face appears on the screen. Everyone always thinks that we’re sisters, not mother and daughter.

  I have her wavy, light brown hair, pale blue eyes, her petite stature, but I’m slightly curvier. Our eyes are almost too big for our faces, and our lips are plump, except I’m the one with a slight split in my lower lip.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  She waves. “Hey, baby. Are you ready for school to start tomorrow.”

  “I am. I think this is going to be my most difficult year, but I’m ready.” I bite at my thumbnail. “I-I’m so grateful to you and Dad. I feel guilty, though, like I should’ve stayed home.”

  Mom smiles softly at me. “Honey, you said the same thing last year. We wanted you to have the full college experience. We’re able to do this so you can focus on your studies and have a little fun. You’ve been through so much and have worked so hard.”

  I hear a squeal and then the best thing I’ve ever done appears on my screen. “Mommy! I miss you.” My three-year-old daughter climbs onto my mom’s lap and leans forward. “You go to school.”

  “Oh, baby, I miss you too. Mommy’s going to school tomorrow.”

  My mom gets up and sets Ava on the chair. “I’ll leave you ladies to talk. I love you, honey.” Mom blows me a kiss and then kisses Ava’s cheek.