Cocky Biker(75)

That’s the best I could offer — just say my truth and hope it’s enough. I don’t know any other way. Not one that works, anyhow.

This is it. Apartment 11. First floor.

Oh lordie, am I nervous!

Here goes.

Knock knock knock.

The door opens and I nearly spit out my gum. In an effort not to, I swallow it.

Starin’ back at me is hands-down the most gorgeous man I’ve seen up close and personal. Dark brown eyes sparkling with confusion take me in as I stare at him in speechless shock.

I am not aware of it, but my mouth is wide open.

Stunned. Flabbergasted. Beside myself. I am all of these.

If this is Jake Cocker, I can’t live here.

He’s wearing nothin’ but a white towel. It’s normal-sized, not one of those bath sheets. My point is, it barely covers him so pretty much all of his gorgeous, tanned, and chiseled-to-perfection body is on display. To make matters so much worse, sweet-smelling beads of water are takin’ languid strolls down his chest muscles. Gaping at him, I follow their happy journey down that amazing row of ab-mountains between hips so narrow even my sweet old Nana would imagine wrapping her legs around them.

I bite my lip, trying to remember my own name.

With one hand, he shakes his wet hair out and asks, as beads of water spray around his head, “You lost or something?”

I start to sweat. His voice is so deep my panties turn to moist ash and then vanish completely.

Dammit, he just asked you something!

Speak, Drew!

Say somethin’!

“Hello?” He cocks his head to the side. “Can I help you?”

You sure can.

I straighten my inexpensive purse on my nervous shoulder and clear my throat. “Jake Cocker?”

His frown deepens and he blinks a couple times, crossing his arms. Brutish hands fold over his biceps.

“Yeah. I’m Jake.” Now he’s curious.

I can tell by how his baby browns swiftly travel down the blouse my momma bought for my twenty-ninth birthday when I’d flirted with the idea of gettin’ a job of my own, rather than listening to Edward and waiting for him to give me what he promised. I should have followed that inspiration. I didn’t. But it’s never too late…is it? I hope not.

Jake’s appraisal doesn’t stop at my blouse. He slowly makes his way down my tan skirt and stops at my matching short heels.

I suddenly realize by his expression that I’m dressed for a job interview, conservative and proper. I must look like an old lady to this hunk. He can’t be more than twenty-three and probably has fake tits thrust into his face all hours of the night. I must look like a Jehovah’s Witness person passing pamphlets from door to door.

Oh, why didn’t I borrow something of Bernie’s? Her entire wardrobe is sexy.

“Oh!” he says, a dawning awareness making him smile. “You’re Matt’s new wife! Sorry, I figured he’d come with you for the introduction.”

“Umm…Matt?”

Jake stares at me, eyes narrowing. “Landlord?”

“Oh! No, I’m not your landlord’s new wife. I answered your ad for the roommate. I might be early.” I’m right on time, but the whole wearing only a towel thing is throwing me. “It looks like I interrupted your hot shower. I mean…I don’t know how warm it was. I wasn’t in it or anything.” Stop it! Get a hold of yourself. “What I mean to say is that I’m sorry if I’m early. I’m Drew! Drew Charles.”

He is staring at me like horses just flew out of my ears.

“We emailed each other?” I add, hoping that rings a bell.

He sucks on his teeth. “Drew’s a boy’s name.”

“Nope. Girls have it, too. Drew Barrymore?” I add, reminding him.

But his ego isn’t happy that I apparently ‘pulled one over on him.’

“You have two boys’ names,” he says in an accusing tone.

“Yeah, well, I’m not a boy.”

Jake’s eyes drift to my blouse again. “By how your nips turned pebble-hard when I opened the door, I can see that. Even through a padded bra, too. Impressed.”

“Oh my God,” I breathe in surprise as fire shoots out the top of my head. “Jake Cocker. You’re somethin’ else.”

“Yes, I am.” He flashes a smirk that has the devil behind it, and uncrosses his arms. One of his thick hands falls a little faster and harder than it was meant to. The towel unlatches, drifting to the ground with a soft thump.

He is now bared to me in all his glory.

And he doesn’t move to cover himself.

“Oops,” he says.

Keep your eyes up, Drew! Keep them up.

I am so stunned I’m trembling.

He’s just staring at me with a challenge, though Lord only knows why he would do such a thing to a stranger, and to a woman.