Release Me (Stark Trilogy 1)

“Busted,” he says. He raises his hand and waves, and a moment later, Evelyn is by our side.

“I see her all the time,” Blaine says as he takes his leave of us. He winks at me. “All of her. You two talk.” He gives Evelyn a passionate kiss and, from the way she squeals, a little bit of a grope, too. Then he saunters off, Evelyn watching him go.

I start to speak, but Evelyn holds up her hand. “Hang on, Texas. I want to watch the view.” After a moment, his formal-wear-covered tush disappears in the crowd, and she turns to me with a sigh. “I’m almost sixty years old, and I’m only just now getting the best sex of my life. I swear, the universe isn’t fair.”

“Then again, maybe the universe is very good to you,” I say, and she laughs.

“Well, look who’s a glass-half-full kinda gal. You’re right, Texas. I like the way you think.”

I’ve never considered myself particularly optimistic, but maybe I am. Honestly, I really like this woman.

“I’ve been hearing nothing but good things about you, young lady,” she says. “Guess it was a rom-com, after all. Or are we talking NC-17?”

I feel my cheeks heat. “Could be,” I admit.

“Good for you. Hell, good for you both. That boy …” She shakes her head in an almost grandmotherly fashion.

“What?” I want to sit her down and demand she tell me everything she knows about Damien. Unfortunately, that kind of interrogation is generally considered uncool.

“I saw the way he kissed you just now. Gentle, but I swear he looked like he could eat you up.”

Her words are like cotton candy to me, sweet and delicious.

“He’s usually so closed off. It’s wonderful to see him opening up to you.”

“It is,” I say, even though I am completely clueless and desperately curious. Opening up to me? Hardly. I’m learning that Damien is closed even tighter than I’d thought. Considering how much I’ve exposed myself to him, I’m feeling a little bit sick to my stomach. I don’t show it though. Social Nikki is in full form tonight. “He’s overcome so much,” I add, hoping she’ll respond with something that gives me a clue about the dark things in Damien’s past.

“Now you see what I meant by inscrutable.” She sighs. “It doesn’t matter that so much has been swept under the carpet. These things haunt you. How could they not?”

“I know,” I lie. What was swept away?

“See? That’s why I think you’re good for him. Hell, a year ago, you’d have to drag him to his own fund-raiser. Tonight he waltzed in here with you on his arm looking like he owns the world.”

“Well,” I say, “he pretty much does.”

“True. Shit, I’m not anywhere near drunk enough for tonight. Let’s go find one of those skinny bitches with the trays of drinks.”

I follow her because I want to talk more and learn more, but we’re soon sucked into the crowd and the rolling waves of conversation.

When Damien finds me ten minutes later, I’ve lost Evelyn and am discussing Humphrey Bogart movies with a guy who looks to be twelve but who swears he’s the hottest new director of horror films.

Thankfully, Damien leads me away.

“Everything okay with you and Ollie?”

He gives me a sharp look, but nods. Then he traces the pad of his thumb along my lower lip, which has fast become one of my erogenous zones. “I think I need to taste you,” he says, tugging my hair to tilt my head up to him. We’re interrupted, though, by a tall thin man with salt-and-pepper hair.

“Charles,” Damien says coldly. I have a feeling the ice is because of more than the interruption.

“We need to talk,” the man says. He turns to me. “Charles Maynard. I’m terribly sorry to intrude.”

“Oh, no. It’s okay.” Because, really, what else can I say?

Maynard leads Damien away and as soon as he does, Ollie sidles up to me. “Hey. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“I’ve been here all night.” I hear the frost in my voice, but can’t seem to control it.

Ollie either doesn’t hear it or he ignores it. “I know. But I wanted you alone.”

“What is it?” I’m sure I sound exasperated, but I’m not interested in another cryptic comment about how Damien’s not right for me.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About what happened with Jamie, I mean. It was stupid and—”

I hold up my hand. “You guys are both adults. But you’re also my friends. And you’re engaged.” I reach out and take both his hands in mine. “I don’t want you to screw up a good thing. And I really, really don’t want to get caught in the middle.”

“I know. I know,” he says. “It was a one-time thing. Stupid, but it’s over.”

I’m not sure I believe him, but I also don’t want to talk about it. So I just nod and change the subject. “What did Damien want?”

“Oh, that.” He tugs his hands away and shoves them into his pockets. “He thanked me. For, you know. Being there for you. After that stuff with Kurt.”

I feel my cheeks warm. “It meant a lot to me.”

He looks at me and shakes his head. “Don’t you thank me, too. You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

I look around the room and find the back of Damien’s head. “He’s a good guy, Ollie,” I say. “Are you starting to see that?”

“Sure,” he says, but there’s something odd in his voice.

“What?” I demand. “What is it about Damien Stark that bugs you so much? Is it all the shit Sara Padgett’s brother is stirring up?”

He exhales loudly, and I’m certain that I’ve nailed it. “Oh, hell, Nik. Stark’s a celebrity. He’s not up on billboards, but that’s what he is, and there are always shitstorms around celebrities. Eric Padgett’s just the latest guy tossing wads to see what sticks.”

I peer at him. “And that’s it? That’s all that’s bugging you?”

Ollie straightens his tie, a sure tell that he’s hiding something. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. Listen, I see a client. I’m going to catch her, okay?”

I grab his wrist. “Wait. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing.”

“Jesus, Ollie, this is me. What aren’t you saying?”