Cocky

Chapter 19 Hold Me.

nineteen

hold me.

Jabari.

I had this girl’s pussy in my mouth an hour ago.

I’ll probably have it in my mouth again in the next hour or so.

It’s ridiculous that we argue like this.

Maybe it’s foreplay.

I swear she choked me until the whites of my eyes showed when she rode me. The sick part is it made me even harder. To be fair, we were in the middle of a huge argument and I just kissed her. I can’t even remember what it was about.

Probably a result of me blacking out when she choked me.

She can’t help it though.

I’m sure there’s a lot of people in the world who wish they could choke me.

I would take the opportunity myself if I were her.

I don’t know why, but the way it’s so easy to get under her skin is addictive to me.

Probably because it’s the only time she shows anything that looks like passion where I’m concerned.

Everything else is indifference. Or lust.

Whenever I feel like it could be more, I’m swiftly reminded just how wrong I am.

The shower cuts off with a heavy clunk, pipes groaning in protest. Steam curls out into the room, fogging the mirror, dampening the air.

Frankie steps out, hair pulled back, bare face soft in a way she never lets anyone linger on without her usual heavy eyeliner.

“You’re out of my body wash,” she says, like it’s an accusation. “Do us a favor and get some more, yeah?”

I click my tongue. “You could always bring your own when you come over.”

She doesn’t even look at me. “Ugh. You do what I tell you anyway, so what’s the point in even arguing about it?”

I smirk to myself. “It’s fun.”

She pauses just long enough to shoot me a look.

“I swear to Christ,” she mutters, fastening the clasp on her watch with more force than necessary.

I push off the dresser. “How you doing with my new wash then? Still irritated?”

“No.” She exhales, softer now. “Thank you for doing that for me.”

There it is. A small crack. Bait.

“Of course,” I say easily. “I need you comfortable when you’re taking me, Jelly. And I can’t have you running late on our agreed dates. Again.”

Her head snaps up.

Right—that’s the thing we didn’t finish talking about.

She was late today and missed our agreed date time, after she cancelled yesterday. The awards are tonight, and her hours have been mad, I know that. Still. Doesn’t mean I didn’t feel it. Especially since she always seems to have time for sex.

“You know,” I add, keeping my tone light, “I’ve got the day off. No practice. Nothing.”

She blinks. “Oh. Really? I’ve got the day off too. Awards are tonight.”

“I remember.” My chest tightens before I can stop it. “…Should I come?”

She stares at me like I’ve asked if the sky is green. “No. Why would you?”

“Is Za going?”

“Of course she is.” Her brows pull together. “Are you alright? What’s with all the stupid questions?”

I sigh, dragging a hand over my face. I don’t have an answer that won’t turn into something bigger than I want it to be.

“Nothing,” I say finally. “Enjoy the show.”

She nods once. “Yeah. And enjoy your day off.”

And she turns toward the door.

“You could stay over,” I offer, before I think better of it.

She pauses and I persist. “Hang here. Relax here. Before the show.”

She turns to face me fully now, arms folding across her chest defensively like she’s putting something between us before I can step any closer.

“Why would I want to do that?”

Up goes the wall.

“’Cause,” I say simply, because dressing it up will only make it worse, “I want you to.”

She blinks. “You want me to?”

I nod.

She exhales sharply, irritation snapping back into place like armour she knows fits. “Bari. If I spend the day with you, what about Za?”

“What about Za?”

“We have plans to meet after she’s done with church, you know that.”

“I do,” I step closer. “Which is why I asked you to meet with me early, while she's helping mum. But you came late, Francine.”

“What are we, co-parents? I came when I was available, Jabari.”

“Yeah, yeah. And I bet if it was Za you had to meet with it would turn out different. You make time for her!”

The words leave my mouth before I can soften them and I regret it immediately.

She stares at me like I’ve grown another head.

“What do you mean? What do you expect? Sex is one thing, but you really want me to choose you over Za?”

I step even closer without meaning to.

“I’m asking you to just—for once—consider the possibility that I care about you too,” I say.

“That I want to be around to celebrate your wins as well. I want to hang out with you, or grab lunch with you. Fuck, I’ll even settle for laying in bed with you after you fuck my brains out. Is that too much to ask?”

The second it’s out, I know I’ve given too much.

Her face hardens instantly and the softness drains.

The shutters come down.

“See,” she waves her index finger at me. “I knew this was a bad idea. I knew you couldn’t be normal about this.”

“Normal?” I scoff, but it’s hollow. “What the hell is normal about us, Francine?!”

“Stop yelling!”

“I’m not! I—” I stop myself mid-breath. Close my eyes. Force my shoulders down. Lower my voice. “I think it’s time we tell Za.”

The room freezes.

“Fuck no!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s wrong!” Her voice cracks just enough to give her away, and she hates that it does. “What we’re doing is wrong, Jabari, and I can’t bring myself to face that yet. It’ll hurt her. It’s not the right time.”

“You’re already hurting her by fucking me,” I say flatly. I don’t enjoy saying it, but I need her to hear it. “So what’s the difference if she finds out now or later?”

She snaps back quickly.

“The difference is I could at least cushion the blow. She won’t be as blindsided that way.”

I rub a hand over my face. “Right. And how d’you plan on doing that?”

“I don’t know.”

“And when will you do it?”

“I don’t know.”

“And what happens after?”

She snaps. “I don’t fucking know, okay?”

“Exactly,” I say. “You’re delusional.”

“Well fuck you, Jabari!” she fires back. “You’re trying to push something when you’ve got no idea what the outcome will be. What happens if Za never talks to me again, huh? What if she hates me? What if she hates us? Can you live with that? ’Cause I know I can’t.”

“Francine—”

“Don’t Francine me!” she snaps. “You think I could just throw my twenty-year friendship away for nothing?”

“Woah, woah.” I lift my hands, palms out. “It’s not for nothing, Frankie.”

“Yes it is!” she shoots back. “It’s a fling. Less than a fling. The fact that I’m even here is laughable. It’s a joke. I’d be a joke for even thinking this is worth actually pursuing.”

She says it like she’s already decided she’s stupid for wanting more and she’s already made peace with it.

I should be mad. Or offended.

Instead, a laugh slips out of me.

“You’re a real character, Francine. You know that?”

She blinks. “What?”

“You really had me going with that whole ‘Za’s gonna be mad’ act. I almost believed you.” My smile tightens, losing its warmth. “It’s scary how good you are at lying, though. Be careful, you’re starting to believe that shit yourself.”

Her brow creases. “What are you talking about, Jabari?”

“I gotta spell it out for you too?”

She rolls her neck, still not getting it.

“Jelly,” I say quietly now, dropping my voice. “You ain’t scared of this getting out because of Za. That ain’t your only concern at least.”

She doesn’t interrupt.

“You’re scared this won’t work out,” I continue. “And you’ll look stupid.”

The room goes still.

“True, innit?”

Her lips part. Close again. When she finally speaks, it’s softer.

“…Is it wrong for me to protect myself?”

Bingo.

But that question isn’t for me. It’s for her.

“It is,” I say, “if you’re doing it by shutting yourself off from something good.” I take a step closer. “We have something good. We click. We get each other. We know how the other thinks, feels, works.”

She scoffs, but it’s thin. “We were arguing literally an hour ago.”

“That’s ’cause we know exactly what nerves to hit,” I say. “That’s familiarity, Frankie. Not incompatibility. And besides that’s got nothing to do with what we’re talking about. It’s a mute point.”

“Moot,” she cuts in automatically.

“Huh?”

“Moot point. Not mute.”

I stare at her. “That makes no fucking sense. Who came up with that?”

She rolls her eyes and turns away, already retreating toward the other end of the room.

I follow.

“Come on,” I say, softer now, less sharp. “There’s nothing to be scared of. You telling me big bad Francine’s too afraid of a little intimacy to experience genuine happiness with me?”

She stops walking but doesn’t turn around straight away.

“…The big comment was unnecessary.”

I exhale through my nose. “You’re deflecting.”

She finally looks at me. “You’re projecting.”

“Really now?”

“Yes.” Her voice is steady, but I hear the effort in it. “Because I can be intimate. I am very emotionally exposed.”

“Uh-huh.”

She bristles. “I swear. I open myself up all the time! To my parents, to Za, to my coworkers.”

I don’t raise my voice. I just ask:

“And me?…”

She goes quiet. Exactly.

“Can you hold me, Frankie?”

She turns, startled. “What?”

“Hold me.”

Her brows knit together. “Why?”

“You need a reason?”

“I’d like one.”

I swallow. My voice stripped of bravado. “I want a hug. So hug me, Francine.”

Her mouth opens, then closes. “This is ridiculous.”

“Just hold me.”

She shifts her weight and looks at the floor.

“…I—”

“Hug me,” I say again. “Right now.”

As I step closer, she steps back.

“You slept with me,” I state. “Bathed with me. Sweated all over me. That’s about as intimate as it gets.”

Her shoulders tense.

“But that served a purpose,” she says. “That was for pleasure. This just feels…” Her voice trails off, uneven. “…I can’t.”

I nod once. “Exactly.”

We stand there after that.

“…Can I hold you instead?” I ask.

Silence.

“Frankie?”

She doesn’t look at me.

Her shoulders rise and fall once. Then again.

“…Please?” I press.

She gives in. “…Okay.”

It’s quiet when she steps into me. My arms wrap around her back, tentative at first then tighter.

And suddenly I feel it, and I feel her feel it. Not the arousal she expected.

Exposure.

This is different.

Worse? Better?

Who knows. All I know is I’m seen in a way sex never managed.

There’s nowhere to hide.

And she knows that too.

Her body trembles slightly against mine, like she’s fighting the instinct to pull away even now. I bet she wants to pull away or kick me out. But I just wrap my arms around her properly, pressing my chin to the crown of her head. Now it’s all on the table.

“I’m scared that when this is over,” she whispers, voice barely there, “it’s gonna hurt.”

“I know.”

What I don’t say is that it already does.

“I don’t want to lose everything on a maybe.”

I tighten my hold. “You won’t.”

She pulls back just enough to look up at me. “How do you know?”

“Za loves you too much,” I say. No hesitation. “She won’t survive losing you.”

Her throat bobs. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“I know,” I say again, softer this time. “It’s okay.”

She presses her forehead into my chest, eyes closed now.

“Part of me wants to stop,” she admits. “Because I know it’s wrong.”

My body goes still and every muscle locks.

I don’t interrupt.

“But the other part,” she continues, voice unsteady but honest, “wants it more than anything.”

I breathe out slowly. “You’re not alone.”

She looks up again. “Really?”

“The best part of my day is seeing you,” I admit. There’s no point pretending now. “I can’t even remember the last time I enjoyed a match without thinking about you. I don’t enjoy anything if I’m not thinking of you. You don’t know how badly I want you.”

She studies me properly then.

Green eyes sharp, searching for the lie. For the angle. She doesn’t find one.

Her mouth curves, already retreating back into safety.

“I guess,” she says lightly. “I could spare an minute or two. For a fan.”

She’s playing it off, still not ready to give it all or even hint that she actually wanted to stay. Still, I don’t argue. I don’t joke.

I just lean down and kiss her. Though she hesitates, she doesn’t pull away.

Say it…

My mind wants to admit things my heart can’t handle yet. I can’t risk whatever we have right now when it’s so fragile. So I torture myself instead. Backing us into the bed, preparing to sleep with her again, knowing it will only dig us deeper. Well, dig me deeper.

I’m above her, braced on my forearms, weight held carefully so I don’t pin her down. Her hands are loose at my sides, not pushing or pulling but there.

“Frankie—”

Her phone lights up.

Vibrates once. Then again.I glance toward the bedside table and catch the name before she even has to say it.

Za.

I feel it immediately. That quiet shift in my chest. The reminder that this moment doesn’t exist in a vacuum.

“Let it ring out,” I murmur, lowering my voice like that might make a difference.

She tilts her head slightly, eyes flicking to the screen. “It could be important.”

We both know that even after today, she’s not ready to pick me. It’s not even a discussion when Za is involved.

I dip my forehead to hers, close enough that my breath brushes her mouth. “Five more minutes. Please.”

The phone keeps buzzing.

She exhales and I know before she says anything that the moment’s already gone.

“It’s time,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry but I gotta go.”

That’s it, then.

I shift back, giving her space without being asked.

She sits up, and the energy between us changes. There’s more to it than just that, and we both know it, but keep it tucked away as she finishes getting dressed.

After a second, she looks at me.

“Do you still wanna come tonight?”

I shake my head once. “I think you and Za should spend some time together.”

She watches me closely, noticing the slight bitterness in my tone. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Tonight’s about you. And she’s your person. I don’t need to be in the middle of it.”

She flinches, not expecting my straightness, nods thoughtfully. I can tell she understands even if part of her wishes the answer were different.

“Thanks… for understanding.”