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.”