Jilted Jock by Rebecca Jenshak

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


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.