Misconduct Read online

  “I made my cereal,” Danny said defensively. “And I’m going to make toast.”

  “You have too many carbs and not enough protein,” Tom told him again. He said it almost every morning as he made Danny an omelet.

  “I eat protein at the arena,” he said. “Why are you in a bad mood?”

  “I’m not in a bad mood,” Tom snapped.

  “Uh-huh,” Danny said. “Sure.”

  Tom sighed as he poured the egg whites into the skillet. “Fine. I’m in a bad mood.”

  “She kick you to the curb?” Danny asked. He sipped his coffee, trying to decide if he was glad Tom didn’t hook up with Carmina. He sort of was, which wasn’t fair to Tom, because he really liked him and thought he was a nice guy. And Danny wasn’t going to go after Carmina. Too much trouble in that direction. He was steering clear.

  “No,” Tom said. “She’s really nice, you know?” He absentmindedly stirred the egg whites. He looked like his mind was a million miles away. “She has some issues, you know, from the war.”

  “Everybody knows,” Danny said, setting his cup down.

  “Not just the talking stuff,” Tom said, not looking at him.

  “Okay,” Danny said, not sure where this was going. “What else?”

  “I don’t think I can tell you,” Tom said, and frowned at him over his shoulder. “But we talked about it and I’m going to help her figure it out.”

  “Whoa,” Danny said. “I don’t even know what it is and I think that sounds like a bad idea. Shouldn’t you leave that shit to psychologists? Experts? Sam?”

  “No.” Danny could tell Tom was getting stubborn about it. When that boy got an idea in his head he wouldn’t let it go. “I’m going to help her. She needs a friend.”

  “She’s got friends. She’s got Sam and King and Jane. And probably others. Lots of Army people. Let them help her. You need to concentrate on football. We’ve got two games left in the regular season and then the playoffs. The playoffs are brutal, I’m telling you now. You don’t need to be worrying about Carmina’s issues when you’re trying to play playoff ball.”

  Tom pulled the skillet off the stove and then spun around and raised his hands in a wide shrug, still holding the skillet. “What the hell?” he asked. “You’re the one who was shoving me on her last night. Now you want me to walk away? Make up your mind.”

  “I just didn’t want her to sleep with Rasheed,” Danny said, holding his hands out. He didn’t want hot omelet in his lap. “I didn’t tell you to play doctor.”

  “So were you pimping me out, or her?” Tom asked angrily. He turned and dumped the omelet on a plate before slamming the plate down in front of Danny. Danny was surprised it didn’t crack.

  “Neither,” Danny said angrily. “I said you didn’t have to have sex with her. I just didn’t want her to make a mistake and sleep with Rasheed.”

  “Which I don’t get, either,” Tom said, making his own omelet. “What’s wrong with Rasheed?”

  “Nothing,” Danny said. “But can you see those two together? And when it didn’t work out, it would be awkward for everyone.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Tom said, glancing over his shoulder. “What’s the real reason?”

  “I don’t know,” Danny admitted. “I just didn’t want her to get with Rasheed. Do I have to have a reason? Maybe I thought she’d be good for you.”

  “She is,” Tom said. “She’s going to be a good friend, and if I’m lucky I can talk her into being more.”

  “Exclusively?” Danny asked. “You going to give up the guys?”

  Tom stopped halfway to the table with his plate in hand. “I didn’t think about that,” he said slowly. “She knows I like guys, too.” He sat down opposite Danny and began to eat.

  “Knowing you like guys and letting you screw them while you’re supposed to be with her is another thing entirely,” Danny told him. “Be careful, man. You’re entering dangerous territory.”

  Tom sat back with a disgruntled sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to give up guys or girls,” he said. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Danny said with a shrug. “Find some girl like the other guys on the team did. One who’s into that shit.”

  “You did it once,” Tom said. Danny’s gaze shot up to meet Tom’s speculative one.

  “That was a onetime deal,” he said, shoving his chair back. He walked over and dumped his dishes in the sink. “That was to help Marian get over what happened in the past.” Danny would never admit that he still thought about that night with Marian and the guys. He’d shared a kiss with Ty Oakes, the Rebels quarterback, but sometimes in his dreams it was Tom kissing him. Danny always woke up from those dreams sweaty, frustrated, and freaked out.

  “It helped you, too,” Tom argued. “I know you liked it. And I know you learned a few things about what else you liked.”

  “What do you mean?” Danny asked, turning to face Tom, his arms crossed. He sure as hell didn’t want to talk about this with Tom, ever. There were too many mixed emotions tied to that night and what happened in college.

  “When Ty held you down,” Tom said. “You liked it.” He held up a hand to stem Danny’s protest. “Look, all I’m saying is that sometimes people don’t know what they like until they try it. Maybe Carmina will be into it.”

  “And maybe she won’t,” Danny said. “You listen. I am not going to get tangled up in that shit. I see what happens when you do. Guys treat you differently. You become a target for the press and for other teams. Hell, even other guys on your own team. And I don’t need to do that shit to enjoy sex. I don’t want to do it. Get it? I get with lots of women without it, you know I do.”

  More often than not, though, when he was with them, he was thinking about how it had felt when Ty held him down and kissed him while Marian rode him. He didn’t like thinking about Marian that way. She was his best friend. But the fact was, that was the best sex he’d ever had. Not because it was her, but because he’d finally been able to admit his most shameful, secret desire—to be held down, controlled, used. And they’d fulfilled it. For him. He knew they all thought they’d done him a favor. But the truth was, finally getting what he wanted had just made him feel more confused, and guilty as hell for even wanting such a thing. Hadn’t he rescued Marian from the exact thing he craved? How fucked-up was that?

  “You’ve been with those women with me,” Tom said, pointing to his chest. “We’ve had sex together lots of times.”

  “Not together,” Danny insisted. “In the same room. That’s nothing, and you know it.”

  “News flash, that’s not normal behavior for most people,” Tom said sarcastically.

  “This isn’t about me, it’s about you and what you’re going to do with Carmina,” Danny said, deflecting the topic.

  “You leave Carmina to me,” Tom said. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Boy, you ain’t got no idea what you’re doing,” Danny said, shaking his head.

  —

  Carmina opened the door to her apartment and found Tom leaning against the wall in the hallway. She stumbled a little in surprise. He sort of jumped off the wall to stand in front of her, grinning.

  “I’ve been waiting forever for you,” he said.

  “Why didn’t you knock?” Carmina asked in confusion.

  “I didn’t want to seem too pushy,” Tom said with a shrug. “This way we just sort of ran into each other.”

  “Not really,” she said, laughing. “Knocking isn’t pushy, FYI. Why didn’t you text me?” She’d worried about it all day.

  “I thought you were going to text me. I got worried and I came over here. But then I thought you’d think I was going all stalker on you. But then you came out so now it’s all good.” Tom fell into step beside her. “Where are you going?”

  “To the store.” Carmina couldn’t even process all of what Tom had just said so she didn’t address it.

  “Why?”

  “To get
something to eat.”

  “I can take you to dinner.”

  Carmina stopped at the elevator, her heart pounding. “Are you asking me out?” she asked, not looking at him.

  “If I were, would you say yes?”

  “I told you I’m not really ready for that.” Disappointment washed over her. If she didn’t have this stupid head injury and was normal like other people, she’d jump at the chance to go out with Tom Kelly.

  “Then I’m not asking you out,” Tom said. “I’m just seeing if you want to go grab a bite to eat. Because we’re both hungry.” She glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye, fighting a smile.

  “Because we just ran into each other?” she teased.

  “Exactly.” Tom looked pleased with his logic.

  “And after dinner?” she asked. “My cupboards will still be bare.”

  “Then we’ll go to the store together,” Tom said. “Danny always eats all my food.”

  Carmina was torn by indecision. She’d been nervous all day, wondering when she’d see Tom again and what she’d say to him when she did. This wasn’t the conversation she’d imagined, not after the secrets she’d shared last night. Tom was so easy to talk to, though, and a joy to be around. His enthusiasm for everything was infectious. He made the prospect of going out to dinner and then grocery shopping seem like the greatest thing in the world. “Okay,” she said, determined to stop thinking so hard about everything and just enjoy herself. Tom didn’t seem too interested in getting something hot and heavy going, which was fine, since she couldn’t really produce in that area.

  “Sweet,” Tom said. The elevator arrived and he held the door open for her. “I know the perfect place.”

  —

  “Here?” Carmina asked skeptically. “They serve food here?”

  “Sure,” Tom said, yelling to be heard over the driving beat of the techno dance music pumping through the speakers by the dance floor. “I love their hot wings.”

  Carmina wrinkled her nose as she looked around. Half the room was dressed like they were doing a spread for Vogue and the other half looked like they’d rolled out of their beds at the dorm and stumbled in here. Her jeans and blouse and Converse shoes fell somewhere in the middle.

  Tom grabbed her hand and pulled her toward a door at the back of the club. A big guy in a black polo, his arms crossed, stood next to the door. “Hey, Jamal,” Tom said with a smile when they stopped in front of him. The bouncer shook his hand.

  “Hey, football player,” he said, winking at Carmina.

  “Is there room for two more upstairs?” Tom asked.

  Jamal opened the door. “Sure,” he said. “Not too busy tonight. Weeknight.”

  Tom pulled her through the door and she turned around to see Jamal closing it behind them. “What’s upstairs?” she asked. Her voice was too loud. The closed door had muted the music but she was still yelling.

  “Just the VIP room,” Tom said with a shrug. “It’s not as crowded, and I don’t have to deal with a lot of people coming up for photos and stuff, like I do downstairs.” He grinned down at her. “Plus, they have food upstairs.”

  “I didn’t even know Birmingham had places like this,” she said. They were climbing a well-lit, carpeted staircase.

  “Place, as in one,” Tom said. “I mean, there are other clubs, but this one is the only one with a private VIP room.”

  “They know you.” It came out more like a question.

  “Yeah, Danny and I come here a lot. Like I said, we like the privacy up here.” He opened another door and she walked in, looking around curiously. She was a little disappointed. She’d been expecting cosa nostra, or at least a rock star or two. But this was Birmingham, so all she saw was a few younger guys who looked like they were in a frat together, some middle-aged businessmen with suspiciously young and attractive women, and a group of Japanese tourists.

  Tom must have seen something in her face, because he laughed. “Yeah, it’s a little slow tonight,” he said. “If word gets out I’m here it’ll pick up. It usually does.”

  “You bring the crowd?” she asked. She frowned, not sure she was in the mood for one of Tom’s infamous parties.

  “I don’t try,” he said, sounding a little perplexed and slightly unhappy. “They just seem to follow me.” He sat down at a corner booth and pulled her down next to him before she could take the seat across from him. “Tyler told me he used to have the same problem. He never set out to turn every event into a blowout, but somehow it happens.”

  “The quarterback?” Carmina asked. She’d met him a few times, but they hadn’t really talked much. She knew he used to have a reputation as a hard partier, and that he’d been openly bi since college, but now he was involved with one of the Rebels’ coaches and a Birmingham cop.

  “Yeah, Ty Oakes,” Tom said as he waved at a waitress. “He’s a good friend of mine.”

  That explains a lot, Carmina thought.

  The waitress came over and was all smiles for Tom, but the smile turned brittle when she looked at Carmina. Uh-oh. Had she slept with Tom? Probably. She was skinny, with a long, blond ponytail, and wore tight jeans and a tiny, white T-shirt that had the name of the club, Johnny Crimson’s, on it. “Hi, Tom,” she said, openly flirting with him. “What can I get you?” She laughed. “Remember I said that the night we met?” Tom looked uncomfortable.

  “Yeah,” he said, glancing at Carmina. “Uh, hey, Ashley. Can we get a couple of beers?”

  “Coke,” Carmina said quickly. “Just Coke.”

  “Okay,” Tom said, smiling at her. “Just Coke. And wings,” he added, speaking to Ashley. “A couple of orders, extra blue cheese.”

  “Sure, Tom,” Ashley said. Then she actually licked her lips, like a bad actress in a porn video. Well, that answered that question. Clearly Ashley and Tom had a history of blow jobs. Carmina turned her back on Ashley, dismissing her, and smiled at Tom.

  “Thanks,” she said. She thought about putting her hands on him in some way to stake her claim, but she didn’t really have a claim, and so settled for giving Ashley the cold shoulder. All of Tom’s attention was on Carmina, and she heard Ashley huff in annoyance before she left.

  “You don’t drink?” Tom asked.

  “Not usually,” she said, her satisfaction over Ashley’s departure dimming as reality checked her again. “I take meds that my doctor said shouldn’t be mixed with alcohol. I’ll have a glass of wine, but not often. Just special occasions.”

  “Do you mind if I drink?” Tom asked, frowning.

  “Not unless you get fall-down drunk and puke on my shoes,” she told him honestly.

  Tom laughed. She liked to make him laugh, just because she could tell he liked it. She couldn’t remember ever having that desire before, to make someone laugh. Richie had always been the one to make her laugh, when they were alone and when they were with the rest of the unit.

  “What just put that look on your face?” Tom asked quietly.

  “What?” she asked, startled that he’d noticed her mood change.

  “You suddenly got this sort of sad look on your face,” Tom said. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No,” she told him quickly. “Not wrong. Your laugh…it made me think of someone.”

  “Who?” She just shook her head. “Okay. I won’t pry.” He turned on the bench to face her, his back against the wall. It was a tight fit for those shoulders of his. She could see his biceps straining the sleeves on his T-shirt. It was a Rebels shirt, the kind fans bought at the team store. She’d seen other players in team gear, but it was usually expensive, exclusive stuff for the team only. It was just another layer to Tom that made him more approachable to fans. He looked just like them and they ate it up. “What did you do today?”

  “I started looking for a job,” she told him. “I’m not really sure what I want to do.”

  “Do you need to work?” Tom asked. “I mean, you get disability, right? Veteran’s benefits and stuff?”

  “Ye
ah. But I want a job.” She shrugged. “I’m used to working. Not working, I don’t like it.”

  “What kind of work can you do?” Tom pointed to his head. “Does that limit you?”

  “Not really,” she told him. “Most jobs I can’t do, I couldn’t do anyway. Not qualified.”

  “Do you want to work with people? Like waitressing, or cashier someplace, or something like that?” Tom didn’t sound condescending at all, just curious.

  “Maybe not a lot of talking,” she admitted sheepishly.

  “Warehouse? Manufacturing?” he offered.

  “Maybe,” she said, thinking. “First I need to see what’s available.”

  “What about something with the Rebels?” he asked. “In the office, maybe? I know they always have temp workers there doing stuff. I bet I could get you on a list somewhere, me or Sam. And before you say no,” he said, holding up his hand, “they pay well, and it’s just helping out a friend who’s looking for a job, not a handout or anything. I know you can get a job on your own. But it never hurts to have a friend put in a good word for you.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that,” Carmina said. “Thanks.” She smiled. She really had no problem with Tom or Sam helping her get a job with the Rebels. A job was a job. Plus, she could catch a ride to work. She didn’t have a car, since she hadn’t been cleared to drive yet.

  “So I did some thinking today,” Tom said a little while later, after their food arrived. He’d barely paid attention to Ashley when she’d brought it, except to give the waitress a polite thank you. Carmina got a kick out of that. Take that, skinny white girl, she thought.

  “About what?” Carmina popped a french fry, crispy and hot, into her mouth.

  “About your problem.” Carmina choked on the fry and started coughing, her eyes watering.

  “What?” she asked him in a strangled voice, hoping she’d misunderstood.

  “Hi, Tom.” Carmina looked up in surprise to see Tom’s friend Elvis standing there. He smiled at her and then at Tom. She hadn’t even heard him walk up.

  “Hey, Elvis,” Tom said happily. He half stood up in the booth and gave the smaller man a quick hug. “What are you doing here?” Carmina tried not to get jealous. Elvis was young, handsome, and kind of exotic with his Southeast Asian features. Hell, she’d go out with him if he was straight.