Claim Me(66)

“Jesus H. Christ,” Jamie blurts out. “Don’t you ever give it a rest?”

I’m grateful for Jamie’s interference. I’d thought that the Ollie-Damien war would be off the table tonight after my talk with Ollie earlier, but apparently two glasses of green champagne have loosened his tongue.

“That’s why I love her,” Ollie says, hooking an arm around Jamie. “She tells it like it is and doesn’t take my shit.”

“And what?” I ask. “Courtney doesn’t tell you when you’re being a prick?” It is bad form for me to play the Courtney card right now, and I know it. But I’m pissed. Besides, I’m supposed to be Ollie’s best man at his upcoming wedding, and although I’ve never actually been a best man before, I’m pretty sure that one of the jobs is smacking down the groom when he crosses the line into being an *.

“No,” Ollie says seriously. “She doesn’t.” He bends down and sits on the edge of the water-filled mattress inside the pod. His body shifts and rolls, and he reaches out and grabs the red molded plastic that forms part of the pod’s arching roof. “She just waits until all the shit has built up and then she breaks up with me.”

I sit down next to him, ignoring the way our seat sloshes beneath us. “I thought you weren’t going to let any more shit build up.” Ollie and Courtney have been on-again, off-again for years. This is the first time they’ve made it all the way to an official engagement. I really like Courtney, and I hope it works out. But the more time that goes by, the more I’m afraid that Ollie’s going to f*ck it up yet again. Or, to be more accurate, that he already has f*cked it up.

“I’m like Pigpen,” Ollie says. “Shit just follows me around. Not all of us lead the charmed life of a certain billionaire we know.”

“Dammit, Ollie!”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry, I’m a total prick.”

“Yes,” I agree. “You are.” I suck in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry you have a problem with Damien, but he’s important to me. And if I’m important to you, then you need to figure out a way to deal with that.”

“That’s the point,” Ollie says. “You are important to me. And I can deal with Stark. I can even ignore all the shit on him I could dig up in just one hour in the Bender, Twain file room,” he adds, referring to the law firm where he works. “It’s not the man that’s the problem—well, not the big problem. It’s what’s around him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Nikki, you practically disguised yourself to come here tonight,” he says, referring to the hat that I’d worn, just as Jamie suggested. “Do you want that life? Hell, can you handle it?” he adds, then brushes his hand lightly across my thigh before twining his fingers in mine. “I just worry about you is all.”

My throat is thick, and I look down, not quite willing to meet his eyes. I know his concern for me is genuine—Ollie has seen my scars, and he has seen me break, too. More important, he’s helped put the pieces of me back together.

“Damien’s worried about the same thing,” I admit quietly. “But I can stand it,” I add, looking up so that I can see his eyes. “I am standing it, and I want to, because Damien is worth it.”

His shoulders droop. “Who would have thought I’d have something in common with Damien Stark?”

I laugh out loud, and Ollie grins.

“Seriously,” he says. “I may have my issues with Stark, but I also know he cares about you.”