Cocky

Chapter 16 Don’t Look Back In Anger. #3

“This is better than some random, huh?” He teases but I’m having way too much fun to care. This is exactly what I need. This was worth the wait and the sin it cost.

“Only I can fuck you like this, you know that right?”

“Fuck you!”

“Yeah?”

He throws me on the bed with little to no effort.

Then, he lays next to me. Fully erected and ready. “So come fuck me.”

I’m up immediately. Straddling him before sinking into the appendage I’ve grown so fond of.

“Pretty girl,” he coos, trying to stroke my hair but I swat it away. Affection is for films. We came to fuck and fuck we shall. I put my palm on his chest and ride like it’s no tomorrow.

Now he’s the one being loud.

He holds on to my waist to try to control me but it’s too late.

I’m wet and sweaty and—

“Ughhhhhhh!!!!” He holds my waist in place and pushes further into me until I feel the warmth fill me up.

Oh.

I guess that’s it then.

Well, it was fun while it lasted. I guess I’ll just finish—

“Oh!” His hand wraps around my neck and pulls me into a kiss. “Jabari, I—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He says against my mouth. I can’t reply before I’m on my back and he’s on top of me. His mouth explores mine as his slower thrust runs through me.

I… like it?

I like his tongue in my throat. I like his hand on my neck while the other tangles in my hair. I like his chest against my nipples and his breathing escaping down my throat.

I open wider for him.

“You feel amazing,” he coos.

“You do too.” My eyes are rolling over at this point. I have no doubt he’ll make me squirt again because I feel the fire catching in the pit of my belly.

My toes began to crawl and I just let it out.

I sound breathy and ruined and claimed. I don’t even know what happened after. All I feel is the absence of his warmth and a cool sensation on my stomach. Then thigh. Then the bed dips again.

“I can’t believe you fucked me like that, Jelly.” My eyes regain their focus and post nut clarity sets in. “I think you should take a pregnancy test.”

“No need,” I stretch. “I have PCOS so I’m on birth control to help with the symptoms.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“And you came in me anyway?”

“Sure did.”

I look at him. He’s smug with no regrets. Prick.

His eyes stay on me, and suddenly I’m conscious of every flaw he could possibly see.

When was the last time I plucked my chin hairs?

Could he even see it from that angle?

I don’t want to find out. I sit up straight with my flesh hunger fed and thirst quenched. It’s time for him to leave now. “Right then, it’s been fun but—”

I barely finished before he pulled me into his chest. Using his arms as a shield to keep me from getting away.

“Um…” it comes out muffled. “Can you let me go please?”

“But I wanna cuddle.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Too intense.”

He laughs and it shakes me. “You forgot the bit where I had you in the air?”

I did not. In fact I’ll never forget it as I have never been lifted in any way during sex. I didn’t even know that was an option. “Yeah and?”

His arms tighten around me and my face is squished against him. “That was less intense than this?”

I find him…comforting. But in a very strange way. Ehhh.

“Well your muscles actually served a purpose then, now I feel like I’m laying with rocks.”

“I’m sure your cushioning can handle it.”

I jerk up and give him a death glance at the audacity to speak on my body. But he is completely unfazed.

“What? You can speak on my body but I can’t speak on yours?”

My mouth opens and closes and opens again. Nothing.

He chuckles and kisses my nose, pulling me in again.

“I hate you.”

“Mhm,” he hums as his fingers trace comforting lines into my back. “I hate you too, Jelly.”

My eyes get heavy. I feel… safe. Weightless. He smells so good I’m tempted to hold his body wash hostage in my bathroom so he only showers here.

Wait… this is too much.

“This is way too intimate, big man.”

“Well, Francine. Sex tends to be intimate from time to time.”

“Yeah well your time has run out. Let me go.”

He doesn’t.

“Now, Jabari.”

He freezes for a second, sighs, then releases me.

“God forbid I wanna hold you.”

I sit up then climb out of bed. “Yeah, yeah, cry me a river, build a bridge and get over it.”

“Tuh, what are you, in grade school still?”

Prick.

Even though he sees me getting myself together, Jabari is still sprawled across my bed. Completely unbothered.

“By the way. My agent says I should get on social media,” he adds, like he’s telling me the weather.

I snort as I bend to grab my trousers off the floor. “Why aren’t you on it already?”

“Who has time for that shit?” he says.

“Fairs.” I step into my trousers, hopping once to pull them up over my hips. My legs still feel… uncooperative and I blame him entirely.

“Anyway,” he continues, watching me, “I want you to help me set it up.”

I freeze. Slowly, I turn my head.

“Do I look like your fucking agent?”

Before I can even finish the sentence, he’s sitting up, fingers already finding the buckle of my trousers, steadying my hands.

“Well,” he says mildly, fastening it for me, “he’s middle-aged and balding, so no.”

“Ohhh,” I say, heat flashing up my spine. “I get it. So you don’t have time, but I must be free. Is that it? I don’t have shit to do ‘cause gaming isn’t a real job?”

“I never said any of that.”

“Yeah, well fuck that and fuck you,” I snap, wrestling my shirt over my head and promptly getting stuck halfway through. My arms flail as the fabric twists.

I hiss in frustration.

“Okay,” he steps in, grips the hem of my shirt, and pulls it down gently, smoothing it over my torso.

“Besides,” I continue, jabbing a finger at his chest, “social media is for influential people. And you couldn’t influence a llama to spit or a person dying of thirst to drink water!”

I’m so upset he asked me to help. What are we— friends?

He lifts a brow, amused, and reaches up to free my hair from the collar, fingers brushing my neck.

“Is that right?”

“It is!”

“Okay, well—” He cups my cheek, thumb warm against my skin, eyes steady and infuriatingly sincere. “I still want you to help me, Jelly.”

My stomach goes in free fall. I huff.

Once.

Twice.

His fingers continue to brush against my cheek as he refuses to let me go from his glare. I try very hard to hold onto my anger but fail.

“Gimme your phone.”

He hands it over immediately, phone already unlocked, like he trusts me or something.

I climb onto his lap without thinking, and he doesn’t comment on it. Just settles his hands loosely at my waist.

“Alright,” I mutter. “Rule one. You don’t tweet cryptic messages. Rule two. Don’t feed the trolls.”

“What’s a troll?”

I pause.

Close my eyes.

Count to three.

“We’re starting with Instagram.”

I set up the account while explaining everything like handles, bios, fucking emojis, thirst traps. And he listens. Until I take a photo without warning.

He squints. “What are you doing?”

“Getting a profile picture.”

“Oh.”

“You’re not worried about getting your good side?”

He laughs once. “Have you seen me? They’re all good.”

I tilt the phone toward him. “Tell that to the ingrown hair in your beard.”

“What?!”

He’s off me in half a second, sprinting to the bathroom mirror like his life depends on it. I collapse into laughter, nearly dropping his phone.

“Francine!” he shouts from the bathroom. “I swear to God!”

I finish setting everything up while he inspects his reflection.

By the time he comes back, hair damp from splashing water on his face, I’ve followed three clubs, a charity account, and one fashion brand I know he likes.

“That’s it,” I say, handing the phone back. “You’re officially online.”

He scrolls, nodding slowly. A notification pops up almost immediately. Then another. And before you know it, the population rolls in.

“It’s almost as if you’re famous,” I comment.

“Ha ha. So funny. Do you follow your—”

The front door opens and we both freeze.

“Cici!” Zaza’s voice carries down the hall. “You would not believe the day I had!”

My stomach drops straight through the floor as I glance at the time.

Fuck.

I’d been so wrapped up in Jabari that I completely lost track of it.

“Get in the bathroom,” I hiss.

“What?” he mouths.

“Now.”

I shove him gently but urgently toward the bathroom, grabbing his bag on instinct and silently thanking God he made me get it from the front door earlier. He barely has time to react before I’m pushing both him and his stuff inside and closing the door.

“Frankie!” Za calls again. “You awake?”

There’s a knock on my bedroom door. I take a breath, smooth my hair with my hands, and open it.

“Hi!”

Za blinks at me. “Oh—you’re up. I was about to tell you about—wait.”

Her eyes drift past me.

Straight to my bed. And my floor. The sheets are a mess. Pillows displaced. Very obviously fucked in. Me and Jabari really had a time because my stuff was everywhere. Whoops.

Her gaze slides back to me.

“You have someone over?” she asks.

I don’t even bother lying properly. “I did.”

Her brows shoot up.

“Oh?” she says. “Well. That explains the smell.”

“Come again?”

“The smell? The cologne? It smells like…” she sniffs the air. “...why is it so familiar? Is it Benny?”

I play into it to keep her from thinking too much into it. “Yes!”

“Oh,” Zaza’s eyes are shiny in that way that has nothing to do with lighting. “You two made up… cool.”

“Za,” I interrupt gently. “You been crying?”

She sniffles, immediately defensive. “No.”

I give her a look.

“…Okay, yeah,” she admits, walking away from my room door, down the hall and collapsing onto the couch. “I didn’t get the part.”

My heart sinks. “Newsies?”

She nods, lips trembling. “I waited hours to sing for two seconds then wait again just to say they thought I was good. Really good. Just not what they were looking for. I’m never what anyone’s looking for!”

I sit beside her without thinking, pulling her into my side. “Chinaza. Respectfully. I’d slap the shit out of you, seriously.”

“Francineee,” she drags. “Don't attack me, abeg. I’m going through enough.”

“Exactly! Why would you downplay your hard work right now Zee?”

“Because apparently, I wasn’t working hard enough… not when compared to my peers.”

“Gyal, fuck ya peers. And fuck Newsies bombaclaat too. Tell’em fi go suck out dem mudda.”

She does that face that looks exactly like her mum. “That’s not nice Frankie, other people worked hard too. I didn’t get it this time because it wasn’t for me.”

I suck my teeth. “So what are you gonna do now then? I thought only they were casting at the moment.”

She lays back on the couch and kicks her feet up on the wobbly coffee table.

“I don’t even know. I don’t even know how I’m gonna pay rent this month.”

“Babe, I can handle rent. Be serious.”

“Thanks. This is like the third month you covered me, though.”

“Well, it’s your yaad. I could chip in.”

“Still, I should be able to cover my half.”

I lay back with her. “Forget that for now, Zee. What do you need from me right now? A listening ear? An advisor? Or a defender?”

She ponders it. “Listening ear. I have a rant.”

“Then the floor is yours.”

And on she goes, talking it out in fragments, about auditions and callbacks and how exhausting it is to keep being almost enough. I let her without interrupting. The whole time though, there’s this dull, persistent discomfort between my legs annoying the hell out of me.

I tell myself it’s karma.

Punishment for being messy.

For being selfish.

For hiding her brother in my bathroom while she falls apart on my couch.

Eventually, as the sun begins to set, her rant slows down.

“Frankie?”

I look at her. “Hm?”

“Will I ever be good enough?”

My breathing stops. I’m ready to give her an earful, until I see the single tear slide down her cheek as she stares at the ceiling.

“I think,” I say carefully. “You are the moon, and the stars and more. But it doesn’t matter what I think, or if I feel you’re good enough. What do you think Za?”

Her breathing evens out. She curls into my side like she’s done a thousand times before.

“I think I want to be good enough…” she sobs lightly.

“Zee,” I try but she didn’t respond. Zaza managed to cry and rant herself to sleep.

I stay still until I’m sure she’s out, thinking of the mess I continue to make of things. If I keep things up with Jabari, I’d have to tell Za eventually. But, she already feels so down and adding him to the mess feels icky.

I should’ve ended things when I had the chance. Now, I don’t know if I can.

I prop Zaza up with a throw pillow, then carefully, I slip away.

The bedroom door creaks softly as I open it. Jabari is sprawled across my bed again, phone held above his face, thumb scrolling with alarming enthusiasm.

“What are you doing?” I whisper harshly.

“This shit is addicting,” he says without looking up.

“Do this at your own flat,” I hiss. “You gotta go.”

“In a bit.”

“No nigga, now!” I command with frustration so visible.

He finally looks at me. “Why are you so mad? I’m the one who should be upset. ”

“Because,” I snap quietly, “We messed up! We shouldn’t be doing this, I shouldn’t be doing this. My friend needs me and I’m in here with you!”

“Why?”

“Why am I doing this? I wish I knew the answer.”

“No, Jelly. Why are you in here?”

“Well, Za’s asleep—” he sucks his teeth “—but that’s not the point! I’m going to hell, my best friend’s gonna hate me, and while we’re at it—” I get closer and jab a finger into his chest “—your stupid body wash is throwing off my pH.”

He ignores my gripes. “Why can’t we just tell Za?”

I freeze. “Jabari, I’m not in the mood for this. Just grab your shit so that you can go.”

He sighs, sits up, swings his legs off the bed. No fight this time.

“Can I have your Instagram at least?”

“What?”

“I followed everyone, but I can’t find yours.”

I stare at him. “No!”

We’re halfway to the door when a sleepy voice drifts from the couch.

“Bari?”

I freeze.

He doesn’t.

“Why are you here?” Za mumbles, eyes barely open.

“I’m not,” he says smoothly. “You’re dreaming.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, already sinking back into sleep. I stare at him, horrified. And he just gives me a thumbs up, which I answer with a thumbs down.

“Boooo.”

We make it to the door when he turns back to me with that infuriating half-smile. “I had fun, Frankie.”

“Yeah, I bet you did.”

“Same time tomorrow?”

I tilt my head. “Bari…”

“Jelly…” his voice drops and he hooks a finger through my waistband, pulling me closer. “We had fun. Right?”

“Yeah… we did.”

“So. Tomorrow. Say yes.”

I hold his eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

He holds my neck, lighter than the last time we stood in this doorway. And he kisses my nose.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”