Dirty Jock

by Sienna Valentine

  I looked up, hardening my expression so he wouldn’t see the fear in my eyes.

  “You will never know how sorry I am for the way I treated you that day,” he said.

  I blinked. I couldn’t have heard that right. An apology? A please and an apology? I must have died on the way to the party and this was the last sputter of my neurons trying to give me some peace before I drifted away.

  “Liz?”

  I blinked again. “I heard you.”

  “I kind of expected you to laugh in my face,” he said. “At least a scoff.”

  I snorted.

  “There she is,” he said, lip curling at the edge into a half-smile.

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” I admitted.

  Say the truth.

  “You really hurt me. Really hurt me.”

  Oliver’s eyes filled with sadness. I’d never seen him look so lost before. It sent a pang through my heart. God, why did I still care so much about him?

  “It was for the best,” he said. “Please believe me when I say I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t feel it was completely necessary.”

  “Necessary?” I scowled, pressing away from him enough to really look him in the eyes. “Are you kidding me? How could it have possibly been necessary to fire me and toss me out on the street like a garbage bag? You said you wanted to be friends. Is that how you treat all your friends? No wonder you spent so much time alone in your goddam study.”

  He winced. “I deserve that.”

  “Damn right you do. And plenty more,” I said imperiously. “Now answer my question.”

  He glanced around the room as if somebody might swoop in from the gallery and save him. Not today.

  “Oliver.”

  His eyes returned to mine, pinning me with his gaze. “I didn’t think I’d be able to continue a professional working relationship,” he said. “I thought it would be better just to remove the temptation. I made the wrong call.”

  The song ended and the room filled with applause. Oliver stepped back from me, and my body burned in the places he had touched. I wanted to pull him back. But I wasn’t sure if it was to pull him back into my arms or to give him the punch in the face he’d once asked me for. What the hell was he talking about? Removing the temptation? Was I the temptation? And if so, why was it so important to push me away?

  “Stay for the party,” Oliver said. “You deserve it.”

  Then he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me staring open-mouthed like a gaping fish.

  Chapter 28

  Oliver

  It was no good. I’d tried so hard to keep my distance, but I just couldn’t resist having that one dance with her. And then I just had to reveal the gist of why I’d fired her. She deserved the whole truth, but I’d never been good at giving it. I hoped she’d at least understand that I didn’t treat her that way because I wanted to. Maybe knowing that, at least, would be enough to put her mind at ease.

  If not, hopefully the apology helped. I wasn’t particularly good at those either.

  I avoided her for the rest of the party. I had to make my social rounds anyway, so it wasn’t difficult. After a while, I was fairly certain she’d already left. Wasn’t like I’d expected her to say goodbye.

  By then, most of the guests had begun to filter out, either on their way to the next big party or their beds. I was about ready to hit mine. This was the most action I’d had in weeks. It was the most I’d talked to anyone since Elizabeth left.

  Since I forced her away.

  I soon found myself alone in the garden, drifting through the hedges like the last melody of the band. Two bands had seemed excessive when Damien first suggested it, but they’d done their job, I supposed. The party had been a success, for whatever that was worth. I had trouble even remembering what the purpose of the whole thing had been in the first place.

  “You’re kidding me!” a loud female voice shrieked.

  I stiffened, not particularly wanting the company. I figured there were still some guests around, but Todd had gone home already, so there was nobody to call me out for disappearing on the party before it was officially done. Hence the disappearing. I was in no mood to talk to anyone else tonight. The only person I would have cared to see was already long gone. And she hated me anyway.

  Justifiably so.

  The footsteps that accompanied the voice, and the laughter that followed, veered off to the left and away from me. I released a breath and chuckled quietly at myself.

  When did I become such a grump? I used to love shit like this.

  The thought reminded me of why I’d thrown the party. When I’d started to organize it, Elizabeth and I were getting along and my intention was to use this as a way to show her off.

  An homage to her design.

  And maybe to prove to her that I could do something other than hide out in my study.

  It wasn’t until she was gone that the whole idea seemed like a chore and I began to regret having already sent out all the invitations.

  Still, I couldn’t mope around forever. This was who I used to be. This was the life my grandfather wanted for me.

  The life he willed to me.

  There was nothing I could do about that. I’d tried to figure a way out and failed. So maybe it was time I just accepted things as they were and got back to living.

  A few minutes later I decided to rejoin what was left of the party. With Elizabeth and her friend gone, there was no reason to continue hiding in the shadows. There was nothing left to run from.

  Inside, I found the event staff already beginning to clean up. They’d collected abandoned glasses from the tables, picked up errant decorations, and swept up the piles of confetti from the opening toast.

  I headed straight for the kitchen, seeking to top up my scotch from my own supply. I passed a couple of sleepy-eyed guests on their way out and thanked them for coming, but otherwise made my way without seeing anyone else.

  But the kitchen wasn’t empty. My breath caught as I reached the doorway, and I fought the urge to turn and disappear before I was spotted. This was my house. I was an adult. I didn’t need to hide, and I could control myself.

  Elizabeth looked every bit the sexy vixen I knew her to be in her skin-tight halter. It came down almost to her knees, but hugged her hips in a way that was so sinful it made my cock twitch just to see it.

  I could control most of myself, anyway.

  She glanced up at me in surprise, auburn curls bouncing from the sudden motion. “Oh, hey,” she said. “I’m sorry. I swear I’m not creeping around.”

  I stepped into the room and headed for the liquor cabinet, trying not to stare at the creamy tops of her breasts.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “Where’s your friend?”

  Elizabeth waved the phone in her hand at me. “She disappeared. She’s not responding to my texts.”

  I grabbed the scotch from the shelf and two crystal tumblers, filling each with a couple fingers. “You should get her a bell,” I suggested.

  Liz chuckled. “More like a tracking collar.”

  I handed her a glass and she smiled demurely. When had we become so awkward around one another?

  Probably right around the time I was spitting venom at her and throwing her out.

  “Do you want help finding her?” I told myself that the sooner she found her friend, the sooner she would leave.

  “I don’t want to bother you.” She stared suspiciously into the glass.

  “It’s scotch,” I offered.

  “I know.” She glanced back up to me with an embarrassed smile. “Cress gave me some that night at Repeat.”

  “You sure that wasn’t whiskey?”

  “Same thing. It tasted horrible.”

  I let out an explosive breath and opened my mouth, but then stopped myself. Now wasn’t the time to be offended by someone not knowing the difference between scotch and whiskey. I turned my mouth into a smile instead, and then surprised myself with a genuine chuckle that I h
oped she wouldn’t take the wrong way.

  “Sort of. This one is probably a bit better than what you had at Repeat.”

  We clinked glasses and both took a sip. Elizabeth’s face contorted into disgust.

  “It’s still horrid!” she exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t drink this.”

  I laughed again and set both of our glasses down, opening the fridge to grab her a tall can of cider. “Here, this will help wash away the taste.”

  “What are you laughing at?” she asked bitterly, snatching the can from my hand.

  I retrieved my glass. “I was just thinking about what my grandfather would say about your reaction to his favorite drink.”

  “Well maybe he didn’t have very good taste,” she sniffed.

  “At a thousand dollars a bottle, my gut tells me he wasn’t the only one that enjoyed this particular brand.”

  Elizabeth coughed mid-drink, nearly blowing the contents of her mouth all over the counter. I patted her on the back to keep her from choking. I hadn’t laughed this much in a long time.

  “A thousand dollars a bottle?” She looked from her can to me. “And how much did this cider cost?”

  My hand rubbed a slow circle on her back. She wasn’t coughing anymore.

  “That’s just regular cider,” I assured her. “Cheap as the day is long.”

  She seemed to notice my outstretched arm for the first time and straightened, moving slightly out of my reach. “I should go look for Cressida.”

  “Let me help.”

  Elizabeth looked up at me. I could see the deliberation behind her eyes. I had really hurt her. She wasn’t sure if she should give me another chance at disappointment.

  “I’m sure you’re busy… with the party and stuff. I don’t want you to have to drop everything just because you feel obligated to help me find my drunk friend.”

  “I want to,” I assured her. “It seems like the least I can do.”

  “Okay,” she finally agreed. “Just don’t ditch me halfway through the search, okay?”

  The remark stung, but I deserved it. “I won’t,” I promised. “Let’s start in the garden. I heard a really loud woman there not long ago.”

  “That definitely sounds like her.”

  We made our way to the garden together, strolling along the hedges and through the archways with intent, but we were hardly rushing to get there. We passed the garden band as they were packing up for the night, and then continued further outward toward the pool. The closer we got, the louder the sound of splashing and laughter became.

  “I’ve got a feeling we’re about to get lucky in our search,” I remarked.

  “Getting drunk and going for a swim at a fancy party certainly does sound like something Cressida would do.”

  We turned the corner of the pool house, and there she was. And so was Damien.

  The pool was lit in aquamarine, steam rising off it toward the stars. A fully dressed Cressida and a shirtless Damien were swimming around the deep end, chatting and laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. Neither of them noticed our approach.

  “Cress!” Elizabeth moaned. “How are we going to get you in a cab like that?”

  “Liz!” she called. “You found me! Are you coming in?”

  “I most certainly am not,” she replied.

  While the girls were bickering, Damien made a praying gesture toward me. He was having fun. I liked seeing him have fun.

  I started to remove my shoes.

  “What are you doing?” Liz asked. “Are you getting in?”

  “Fuck that,” I said with a snort. “But I’m going to dip my feet in while they have their fun. It’s quite warm.”

  And they were having fun. Cress was engaged in a playful splash fight with Damien. Her blonde hair flowed behind her like a wave of silk. I preferred Elizabeth’s hair, which shone coppery under certain light.

  “You’re right,” Elizabeth said, kicking off her heels. “They’re having fun. No point spoiling it just yet.”

  She sat at the edge of the pool and stuck her legs in the water. I joined her a moment later after removing my socks and rolling up my pants to the knees. I kicked out idly, sending lashing currents through the water. As expected, it was deliciously warm.

  We relaxed in silence, watching our two friends play. I didn’t know what to say to Liz. I didn’t know if I should say anything to her at all.

  But I couldn’t help but notice that I was happier sitting there beside her, completely silent, than I had been in all the time she’d been gone.

  Chapter 29

  Elizabeth

  God, they look so happy.

  I watched Cressida and Damien splash around, and all I could think about was how much I wanted that for myself.

  With Oliver.

  Sure, I was still pissed about being fired, not to mention how much of an ass he’d been about it, but when he apologized earlier, I’d never seen him look so genuine. So heartfelt. I believed him when he said he’d only done what he felt he needed to do. I didn’t understand him, but I believed that he believed it.

  Or maybe I was just a fool. Like Charlie Brown and Lucy, I was destined to keep running for the ball each time he set it up, no matter how many times he pulled it away at the last minute.

  I just had no idea. None of this made much sense to me.

  Like, what did he mean that he didn’t think we could stay professional. Was that just because he thought we’d end up making out again? Having sex? Or something more?

  Something deeper.

  The truth was, I didn’t want to be mad at him anymore. I was exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster I’d been riding since the day we met. I’d seen the best and the worst, but for some reason the worst never felt real. It still always felt like an act. And now here he was, saying he was only doing what he thought he had to do. So didn’t that prove it?

  I just wanted to get the real Oliver back. The one I’d met that night at Repeat, and the one that reappeared, for the most part, after we’d declared our truce. That was the Oliver I wanted to meet again.

  Even if it was just for one more night.

  “It was a great party,” I said.

  Oliver laughed. “You hated it.”

  “No I didn’t!” I argued. “I nearly ate you out of sliders.”

  Oliver caught my gaze. “You didn’t want to be here tonight. You don’t have to pretend.”

  My shoulders sagged. “No. I didn’t want to be here.”

  “But I’m glad you are,” he said, giving my shoulder a little bump with his.

  “Me too.”

  I was still a bit angry with him, but I meant it.

  “If nothing else, look at these two,” Oliver said.

  I watched the giggling swimmers. They looked like teenagers in love, splashing and diving and pulling each other through the water.

  “She regretted that things went the way they did with him that night at Repeat,” I explained. “Wanted to make things right before it was too late.”

  “Regret’s a funny thing,” Oliver mused into his glass. “You don’t sense it creep in. It just aches and feels like it’s always been there, always been a part of you.” He flicked out with his foot, sending drops of water off the end of it. “And then because it’s so deeply embedded in who you are, you start to wonder if you’ll ever rid yourself of it.”

  I glanced over at him, studying the hard line of his jaw and the way his lips pressed together just a little too tightly.

  “You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” I ventured.

  He sighed and shot me a wry grin. “A man who has as much as me always has even more to lose. And when you have so much to lose, regret is always waiting in the wings.”

  “That’s no way to live.”

  “Or maybe it’s the only way to live.”

  “Elizabeth!”

  My attention was pulled back to my best friend as she made a half-hearted doggy paddle over to me.

 
“Damien says he usually stays in the pool house when he’s here, and that I can stay with him tonight. Can I please?”

  She grasped the side of the pool and looked up at me hopefully. I patted her sopping head and nodded. “I mean, it’s not my house. But sure, go crazy.”