Jilted Jock : A Hero Club Novel Read online

  Table of Contents

  Authors Note

  Synopsis

  Epigraph

  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

  Epilogue

  Join the Cocky Hero Club

  Preview of The Assist

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  About The Author

  Copyright © 2020 by Rebecca Jenshak 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: Edits in Blue and My Brother’s Editor

  Photo Credit: Wander Aguiar

  Cover Design: Lori Jackson Design

  Jilted Jock is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s Cocky Bastard. It’s published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward’s New York Times bestselling series.

  He was someone who belonged on the cover of Sports Illustrated instead of in my small beach town.

  A sexy, cocky Australian soccer star named Finn was the last person I expected to be living with for two weeks.

  He showed up at my brother’s house on his wedding night, hot, drunk, and very much not married. Next thing I knew, we were roommates, spending nights watching TV and getting to know one another.

  Those two weeks turned into more than either of us bargained for.

  He was fresh off a broken heart and I had a boyfriend.

  I wasn’t supposed to fall for the jilted jock, especially when I knew we’d be going our separate ways.

  All good things must come to an end, right?

  Except he’s not letting me go without a fight.

  “Survival can be summed up in three words – never give up. That’s the heart of it really. Just keep trying.”

  – Bear Grylls

  Finn

  Ten minutes before I walked out onto the field on game day, I broke into a clammy sweat. My mouth started to water, I was hot and cold at the same time, the world spun around me, and my stomach churned until I heaved my breakfast into the toilet.

  I freaking loved it. Not the puking, but the rush that came just after. It meant I was ready to dominate.

  Today wasn’t game day, though looking at the guests it felt a little like it. My teammates were taking chairs on the groom’s side of the aisle and seated on the bride’s side were the front office and other important people for the team. Marrying a team owner’s daughter meant I never really got away from it. Not that I wanted to. Our lives revolved around doing things with and for the better of the club.

  I was excited, ready to have the wedding of all weddings. I’d never really thought or cared much about my wedding day, but this was pretty fantastic if I did say so myself. Cindy and I’d been dating for years. We were the new Beckhams – pre kids and old age. Tabloids loved us together. So did my fans. The women loved me, and they saw Cindy as the ultimate sex goddess, which she was, and they didn’t even hate her – they revered her. They wanted to be her. We were an unstoppable force. A power couple, though the phrase gave me pause.

  And I guessed that was why I’d woken up today with none of the usual pre-game nerves and sickness. We were already on top, today was just a formality to cement that. Cindy had ordered me to stay out of view and near a waste basket until the start of the ceremony, just in case, but we’d surpassed the ten-minute mark and I was still cool as a cucumber.

  Among the star-studded guest list was fellow Aussie soccer star Chance Bateman. I looked up to the guy as a kid growing up in Australia watching his rise to stardom. When I moved to the states to play for LA and grab some of that Hollywood lifestyle I’d been dreaming of, he’d been one of the first people I’d tracked down. He no longer played professionally, but we’d become mates – drinks or a quick dinner every few months. Close enough that when I’d extended an invite for today, he hadn’t balked. My childhood hero was at my wedding. How awesome was that?

  “Perfect day for a wedding, mate.” Chance and I stared out toward where the guests were still arriving and taking their seats. We had a nice vantage point hidden behind the tent that stood between where Cindy and I would share our nuptials and the ocean view.

  “Thanks for being here. I appreciate it.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. Plus, Aubrey loves having sex at weddings.” He nodded toward where his beautiful wife sat on the groom’s side. “All the romance, the music, the flowers… and there’s me in a suit, of course.”

  Cocky bastard.

  I adjusted my tie and raised my head to the sky, basking in the sun. It was unseasonably warm for November in California. Mid-eighties, just the way Cindy ordered it.

  “Where are you and—” Chance paused and looked to me, dark brows pulled together. “Cindy, right?”

  I nodded.

  “And she’s the coach’s daughter?”

  “One of the owner’s daughter,” I filled in for him.

  We nodded at the same time, perhaps both of us realized we didn’t know a lot about the other’s life. When we met up, our conversations tended to revolve around Australia and soccer.

  “Where are you two going on the honeymoon?”

  “Bora Bora.”

  “Nice.”

  I’d wanted to go to Fiji, but we’d compromised. She picked the honeymoon destination and I got to pick the venue for the wedding. I couldn’t imagine getting married anywhere but with a scenic view of the Pacific.

  Cindy argued that an outdoor wedding wasn’t ideal for this time of year, but I’d worked my magic to score outdoor accommodations to make the whole thing feel like a big indoor party with a postcard view straight through the massive white tent to overlook the ocean. And the look on her face last night as she’d seen it all come to life had confirmed I’d done well. She freaking cried. Sobbed. Sobs of happiness.

  Foster, one of my groomsmen and teammates, lifted his chin in acknowledgment from twenty feet and made his way through the unhurried guests to where Chance and I stood watching the tiny white chairs fill with people – only some of whom I actually knew.

  “About five minutes. The minister was asking about the reading Cindy wanted him to do before the service. He didn’t get a copy. Also, your wedding gift for her arrived.” He nodded to Chance in silent greeting and then cast his hazel eyes back on me.

  “Oh, perfect.” I rubbed my hands together
. “Where is she?”

  “She?” Chance asked and grabbed my shoulder, giving it a little shake. “This wedding just got more interesting.”

  “I got her a kitten. One of those Bengal cats. She’s been dropping hints since we moved in together,” I told him and then to Foster, “Bring it over. I want to see it before I give it to her.” I pulled a diamond bracelet from my pocket. The plan was to place it around the cat’s neck. Just in case getting a kitten for a wedding present wasn’t romantic enough, I was going to cover it in diamonds – can never go wrong with diamonds.

  Foster stepped back and waved to someone and then looked back to me. “And the reading?”

  I stared blankly at my buddy. “I haven’t a clue. That was all Cindy. Ask her.”

  Foster shifted from one foot to the other, looking more unsure than I’d ever seen the ballsy striker. “She’s not here yet.”

  I checked my watch even though he just told me it was five ‘til.

  “She’s gotta be here somewhere. She’s not showing up late to her own wedding.” If I knew Cindy, she’d been here since early this morning making sure everything was just perfect. I took out my phone and saw I’d missed a text from her. “She just texted, I’ll see where she’s at.”

  Taking a step away, I pulled up her message.

  Cindy: I’m not coming. Please don’t hate me. It’s for the best. Mom and Dad will take care of everything.

  My knees buckled and I steadied myself on a metal pole holding up the tent. Was this a joke? I glanced to Foster for confirmation. Surely if this was some big charade to pull one over on me and get me riled up, he was in on it. He stared back at me with a blank expression.

  “Tell Pastor Smith to skip the reading.”

  “But—”

  “No stupid reading,” I said more sternly as I tapped on Cindy’s name and put the phone to my ear.

  He shrugged and took off.

  “Everything alright?” Chance asked.

  I didn’t dare look at him as the phone rang. No answer. I called back.

  “You’ve reached Cindy—” Her chipper voicemail kicked in again. I hung up and then pressed the damn call button harder, as though sheer force and persistence would make her answer.

  Chance watched me while I paced back and forth. My palms tingled and the weight of the diamond bracelet still in my hand grew heavy.

  The line connected to silence and I froze waiting for her to say something. One, two long seconds passed.

  “Cindy?”

  “Yeah, sorry, I’m here.” Her voice sounded small and far away.

  “Oh, thank God.” My lungs filled with air. “Where are you? And what do you mean you’re not coming?”

  Chance made a little choking sound, but I ignored him.

  “I can’t do this, Finn.”

  “Do what, exactly?”

  “Get married.”

  I smiled, a little manic perhaps like this was still some big practical joke. “Little late for cold feet.”

  “I’m so sorry. My parents should be arriving any minute and they’ll take care of everything. I’ve already contacted the PR office and your agent to give them a heads up.”

  Christ, she was serious. The thought of telling all these people that there wouldn’t be a wedding, that I’d been left at the freaking altar like a cautionary tale, had a prickling warmth spreading over my entire body.

  This wedding was two months and two party planners working full time in the making. When I’d proposed, Cindy said she wanted to get married as soon as possible. It took a small miracle to pull off this kind of extravagance in that amount of time. Two hundred guests were taking their seats as we spoke. The photographer from People was around somewhere right now snapping pictures. Pictures that would now be evidence of the most humiliating day of my life.

  She sighed. “I’m sorry, Finnie. I wanted to tell you in person, but Mikey thought it’d make a bigger scene.”

  “Mikey? As in Martins? My teammate?”

  “Yes, Finn. Don’t be dense. We’ve been spending time together since he was traded to the team and we… we have a connection. I’m sorry. I should have talked to you last night, but then the team threw that surprise party for us and well, it didn’t seem quite right.”

  “Didn’t seem quite right?” I barked out a laugh. “What about…” I trailed off unsure what exactly I wanted to ask. What about the commitment we’d made? What about our apartment? Our joint charities? And when exactly had things changed? I thought we were good. No, better than good. I thought we were untouchable. She was sewn into my life so tight.

  Spots dotted my vision. The reality of what was happening washed over me.

  “Mikey and I are going to Bora Bora. It’ll give you time to get your stuff out of the apartment and when I get back, we can figure everything else out. We’ll need to make a statement to the media.”

  The woman was taking him on our honeymoon. Jesus. How had I not seen this coming? My pathetic face would be splashed about with sad headlines and assumptions about why she hadn’t wanted to marry me. Was I bad in bed? Was I a controlling arsehole? And everywhere I went, she’d be there, and on freaking Martins’ arm apparently.

  Foster reappeared, set the cat carrier on the ground in front of me, and then pulled out the kitten and offered it to me totally unaware of the situation.

  “Finn? Finnie?” Cindy’s voice echoed through the phone. I missed whatever she’d said before, but it didn’t matter. I’d heard enough.

  I stared at the kitten, sweat dripping at my temples. It meowed, eyes big, like it wasn’t too impressed with what was happening either. I took her, cradled her to my chest with one hand, then hung up the phone. Cindy’s parents came into view walking up the aisle with matching grim expressions.

  “Everything okay?” Chance asked. “You look a little pale.”

  I shoved the cat at him and then heaved next to the fancy white tent. But when I stood up straight to tell my hero that I’d just been left at the altar, I didn’t get that rush of calm I got on game day and I didn’t feel like I could dominate anything except maybe a bottle of Macallan.

  Adele

  I breathed in the top of CJ’s head. A sweet mixture of dirt, sweat, and innocence made my heart squeeze in my chest. Mouth open like a baby bird, my nephew was sprawled out on top of me fast asleep. Finally.

  I was contemplating how to get him from the couch to bed without waking him and had almost worked up the courage to lean forward, when the sound of keys jingling in the front door made him squirm. As quickly as I could without jarring him, I eased us to a standing position, clutching him tightly to my chest. CJ’s limp body seemed to weigh twice as much as I carried him to his room and put him down in his bed. I let out a sigh of relief when his eyes stayed closed.

  Aubrey’s voice filtered through the house as I quietly shut CJ’s bedroom door behind me. “Easy. Oh, watch the… well, it’s just the floor. You tripped over your own feet.”

  I laughed softly and smiled. It was impossible to be around my brother and his wife without either turning to goo at how perfect they were together or being completely annoyed…again at how perfect they were together. I was squarely in the first camp. Their love made me insanely happy. They were proof that love could prevail even through hard times and years apart.

  I walked down the hallway toward them, but then halted abruptly when they came into view. I swallowed my laughter and my breath caught in my throat. My gaze was held captive by the scene. Chance and Aubrey had gone out for a date night to a wedding in LA, but it wasn’t Chance that Aubrey was helping into the house now and my brother was nowhere to be seen.

  The guy stumbling beside her was unbelievably handsome. Disheveled and obviously drunk, swaying from side to side.

  Hello bad boy fantasy of my youth. Five years ago, this was exactly the type of guy I would have fallen for at first sight and then convinced myself he was perfect for me regardless of what I found when I got to know him. Which was usually some m
ajor red flags. If there was one good thing that came from hitting rock bottom, it was the wisdom and scars that kept me from repeating those mistakes. Sadly, it didn’t stop my body from reacting.

  “Oh, thank God,” Aubrey said and audibly exhaled. “Can you help me get him to the couch?”

  I moved to action and not a moment too soon because as I reached him, he fell into me. I managed to get my arms around him and stabilize us so we didn’t crash to the floor, but the position left his lips inches from my own and his blue eyes so close to mine I could pick out the exact shade in relation to the paint colors I’d been trying as an accent on my living room wall. Hyper blue.

  He smiled and tried to right himself, but it was more of a hinderance than a help. I looked around him to Aubrey.

  “Who is this?” I whispered, though I don’t know why it wasn’t like he couldn’t hear me since he was standing between us. “Awkward question, but my brother knows you brought another man home, right?”

  This guy was probably the kind of man who got welcomed into threesomes, but I couldn’t see Chance sharing his wife with anyone. He was completely over the moon in love with Aubrey. Even more so it seemed than when they’d first married. How that was even possible, I didn’t know.

  “This is Finn,” Aubrey enunciated his name, her eyes wide, and then it hit me.

  Oh, I mouthed.

  Aubrey nodded, confirming my train of thought. This was the groom from the wedding they’d attended. The famous Finn McCash. Soccer star and right winger for the LA team. He and Chance had struck up a friendship over the past year as my brother had been eager to meet the Aussie born soccer player.

  At twenty-four, he’d already broken loads of records and won a World Cup, but he’d really made headlines when he’d given up a spot on the top-ranked Australian league to move across the world and join the club in LA. Chance said he did it so he could move to America and be with his girlfriend. Presumably the one he should have married earlier today. I checked his left hand – no ring.

  This guy wasn’t anything like I expected. I’d seen a photo or two, he was splashed on every magazine and website imaginable making him impossible to miss, but the pictures didn’t do him justice – even in this state.