“Nice,” Sam said, shoving a napkin at her. “Smooth, King. Here, take this.” She grabbed it from him and wiped her streaming eyes.
“Not here,” she gasped, looking around. Was everyone staring at them?
“Not here what?” King asked, confused.
“I don’t want to talk about that here.” Her voice was raspy.
“You’re the one who wanted to come here,” King said. “And no one cares if we’re all sleeping together.”
“Can I take your order now?” the waitress asked. Jane looked at her, wide-eyed, and the waitress gave her a sly grin. Oh, she’d heard that all right.
“Can we move outside?” Jane asked desperately. “There’s no one outside, right?”
“We have several open tables out there,” the waitress said, frowning. “You can move.”
“Let’s order first,” Sam said. He looked grim. The waitress looked at Jane expectantly and she ordered. As soon as the guys ordered, the waitress picked up their menus.
“I’ll find you out there with the food,” she said. “Go ahead and pick a table. It’s open seating on the patio.”
Jane grabbed her beer and practically ran for the door. An audience who couldn’t hear what they were saying was better than being trapped in the restaurant with a bunch of eavesdroppers.
“I’m not handling this well, am I?” Jane said. She sounded miserable. Sam almost felt sorry for her.
“No,” he told her, shaking his head. “Want to tell us what has you so freaked out? I mean, I’m nervous, but you’re a basket case.”
“I know.” She laid her head down on the table. “I told you, I’m not good at this bad-girl stuff.”
“We haven’t done anything bad,” King told her. “Maybe you should save the guilt and drama for later at Sam’s apartment.”
Jane sat up fast and made the time-out gesture. “Slow down. I thought we were taking baby steps?”
“You’re the one who said you wanted us to rip your clothes off and fuck you again.” King was using the logical approach, which always tripped Sam up, too. He intervened.
“Okay. What’s the next step you want to take?” he asked.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Jane said really fast. “I’m sorry.” She turned pleading eyes on Sam. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to. I really, really want to. But beside the fact that I feel like I should have a great big A pinned to my chest, I don’t think it’s fair to you. Sam. You.” She pointed at him.
“First of all, the A was for adultery because the guy in the book was married.” Sam turned to King. “Right?”
“Dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was drafted after my sophomore year at Florida,” King said with a shrug.
“Whatever,” Sam said. “Second of all, what can’t you do to me?” He had a great big burning ball of unease in his stomach. Did she only want King after all?
“I think,” Jane said in the overly calm voice he was beginning to hate, “that you’ve sort of latched on to me because I was the first woman you slept with after Afghanistan and everything that happened there. Not because you have real feelings for me.” She reached out and put her hand over his. “I just don’t think you’re ready for this.”
“And I think you’re making excuses because you’re scared,” Sam said, pulling his hand away. “For your information, I’ve been seeing the team psychologist. Oh, yeah,” he said at her surprised look. “We have one. Trust me, the Rebels need one more than any other professional team, I’m pretty sure. And Mark, that’s the doc, he thinks I am ready for it. I told him all about our one-night stand and King and everything.”
“Everything?” Jane squeaked. “Seriously?” In any other situation Sam would have enjoyed the squeak. He’d noticed she did that when she was nervous. It was cute.
“He’s my doctor,” Sam said. “You know the drill. Everything. Anyway, he said I shouldn’t worry so much about what my dick wants. He said there is no normal, just my normal and your normal. Or whatever. The point is, he says maybe my new normal is wanting threesomes and that’s fine if everybody is on board. I’m on board. King?”
“I’m on board, brah,” King said, sipping his beer. “I like her a lot and I definitely want to get physical again.” They both looked at Jane.
“Okay, that’s great,” she said, smiling stiffly. “But…I’m not.” She held up a hand as they started to protest. “I just need a little more time to figure out what my new normal is,” she explained, leaning over the table with a pleading look. “I told you, this is kind of a big thing in my world. I need to figure out if it’s what I want. Okay? Is that too much to ask?” She sat back with a huff of annoyance. “So far, I actually like you guys out of bed,” she offered in a small voice. “That’s something, right?”
“Gee, thanks,” Sam said. He smiled. “I like you, too.”
“Me, too,” King said, “which I already told you.” He wrapped his arm around her and gave her a hug. “So we go slow. You fall in love with us and we make wild, crazy love that wakes the neighbors. Maybe you’ll wear a costume. It’s all good.”
“King goes for the big picture,” Sam said drily.
“If, and that’s a big if, I decide to do this, you should know that even now I’m having highly inappropriate, X-rated thoughts about what I’d like to do to you,” Jane said in an apologetic voice. “Sorry if I’m objectifying you.”
“Yeah, about those mixed messages,” Sam said, shaking his head. But then he tipped his beer bottle at her and said, “That being said, right back at you.”
“I have an ongoing porno flick in my head starring the three of us,” King told her candidly. “It’s all good.”
Chapter 16
“So we talk.” King sat down in the chair opposite Dr. Mark Sweeney. “I’m calling you Mark. That’s what Sam calls you, so I feel we know each other already, right?”
The doctor seemed a little overwhelmed by King. “Did we have an appointment?” he asked, looking past King to the closed door.
“No.” King just sat there looking at him. He’d learned a long time ago, in the immortal words of Marshawn Lynch, to just run at a motherfucker’s face until you didn’t have to worry about them anymore. Which, translated, meant do your thing and ignore any opposition, and eventually people would just let you do it.
“Okay,” Mark said. “I guess I did mention to Sam that I thought it would be helpful to talk to you.” King nodded with a smile. That’d been almost too easy.
“So, you and Sam are pretty close, right?” Mark maintained an easy demeanor, smiling back, his elbows on his desk as he leaned toward King, but King could see the intelligence in his eyes and knew each word had been weighed before he asked the question.
“Pretty damn, yeah,” King said. “We’re trying to sleep with the same girl.” He paused and, right when Mark opened his mouth to say something, added, “Together.” Mark closed his mouth and spent a moment just looking at King. King could tell he was thinking, and so he sat there, staring back.
“Why?” Mark surprised him with the simple question.
This time King sat and thought about his answer. “Because I want them both,” he finally answered. Mark sat back in his chair.
“Okay,” he said. “Why?”
King laughed. “You know the right questions.”
“It’s my job,” Mark said, smiling. “So?”
“I liked it, what we did before. I like them both, you know, guys and girls.” King watched the doctor’s reaction, but other than raised brows, he didn’t get much.
“I didn’t know that,” Mark said. “Does Sam?”
“No. Maybe,” King said. “I try not to freak him out too much.”
“Don’t you think you should tell him?”
“Yeah,” King said. “But for now, we get with Jane. Sam, he liked having me there.” He shrugged. “Pretty soon he’ll figure out why.”
“So, you’re getting with Jane to be with Sam?” Mark asked, frowning.
“No,
brah,” King said with a note of disgust. “What kind of man do you think I am? I like Jane, a lot. She’s one sexy mama, and a nice girl. Hard to find that in one package, right? But she’s messed up.” He pointed to his head. “She doesn’t think nice girls can be bad.”
“And you do?” Mark looked like he was thinking about it.
“Sure,” King said with a dismissive wave. “Sex is awesome, man. Enjoying it doesn’t mean she’s not a nice girl, just like Sam and I are nice guys, right?”
“True. That’s a pretty enlightened attitude.”
“I’m Samoan,” King said, as if that was explanation enough.
“So, you feel the same way about Jane and Sam?” Mark asked, as if he was still trying to figure out where King was coming from.
“You mean wanting them both? Sure. But Sam is my boy. I’ve known him longer, right?” He shrugged. “But Jane, the more I get to know her, the more I think I could feel the same. If she’ll let me.”
“What does that mean?” Mark pounced on King’s comment.
“She’s still trying to figure it all out,” King said. “We’re giving her time to do that. Neither of us wants to rush her. Big decision to try something like this, right? So, maybe she decides she just wants Sam.”
“And if she does?”
King had been avoiding thinking about what he’d do if that happened, but he supposed it had been in the back of his mind, because he didn’t have to think about his answer. “I wish them well. I want them to be happy.”
“And do you think Sam would be happy if you were cut out of the picture like that?” Mark’s tone was neutral; he wasn’t giving anything away.
“I don’t know,” King answered honestly. “I guess you have to ask Sam.”
“Maybe I have,” Mark replied. “Maybe you two need to talk about what’s going to happen if she decides she wants one or the other and not both. You seem like a team to me.”
“Maybe,” King said. He glanced away from Mark’s penetrating stare and then cursed himself for the tell.
“What does that mean?” Mark pounced again.
“Maybe he thinks he needs me because of all that shit in his head,” King said. “But when this thing with Jane takes off, he’ll outgrow me.” He watched Mark out of the side of his eye, gauging his reaction.
“You think that’s true?” Mark said. “You think he’s got that much shit in his head?”
“Who knows?” King said impatiently. “He does. That’s what matters, right?”
“I think Sam is okay,” Mark said gently.
“Yeah?” King said, turning back to Mark.
“Yeah.”
“Why?” King asked.
Mark laughed. “You ask the right questions,” he said, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair.
“I’m smarter than people give me credit for,” King said with a shrug.
“I figured that out pretty quickly,” Mark said drily. “The good old boy, islander act probably fools a lot of people.”
King grinned. “You got no idea, brah. You didn’t answer the question.”
“Because he and I have been talking for a while and I think he’s more scared of being messed up than he is messed up. Which isn’t that unusual for people in his situation. He experienced things that most people can’t even imagine. He came out stronger on the other side, but it’s going to take awhile before he believes that. Jumping into such a huge career change, from soldier to professional athlete—and the spotlight that comes with that—isn’t helping. Now he’s worried about his stability and his ability to play.”
“He had no worries this weekend,” King said proudly.
“No, he didn’t,” Mark said with a grin. “I’d like to share some credit for that.”
“Nah,” King said. “Sorry. Jane agreed to go out with us if we won. So, Sam, he won.”
“Wow,” Mark said, obviously surprised. “That is a big deal, that just the thought of seeing her pushed him to overcome his issues on the field.”
“That’s right.” King frowned. “But if it doesn’t work out, then what? Is that a good idea, for him to be dependent on her like that?”
“I think Sam was motivated by more than seeing Jane,” Mark said. “When did you two decide to pursue a polyamorous relationship with her?”
“Last week,” King said. “But he was still doing his little rituals and freaking before the game until he got Jane’s text.”
“Maybe he’s always going to have those rituals and freak out a little,” Mark said. “Can you handle that? The fact that some of his issues may not disappear completely?”
“I got him the copies of his picture,” King said. “I didn’t want him to lose it or ruin it.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
King pointed at him and laughed. “Saw that, huh?” He slumped in the seat a little. “I don’t know. I want Sammy to feel good. That’s all I know. That’s why I don’t say anything now about that picture in his pocket, and the way he sets it up in his locker every day.”
“Then I guess maybe you have answered the question,” Mark said. “I have another question. Why Sam?”
King sat there speechless for a few seconds. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I mean, do we ever know? Do you?”
“Some people do,” Mark said. “Maybe it’s because they share the same interests, or like the same music, are in the same business, want the same things. Those are all good reasons.”
“Those are shit reasons,” King said with disgust. “You’re with someone because they make your heart beat faster and you’d do anything for them, no matter what. Because even if you could only touch their hand and see their smile for the rest of your life, you’d be happy. Those other things are excuses to be with someone, not reasons.”
“Well, I’d switch teams for you,” Mark said. “But I’m taken. I didn’t have you pegged as a romantic.”
“If somebody pegs you that means they stick you to a board and you’re flat, no dimension, nothing to you.”
“I’m writing this stuff down,” Mark said, searching his desk for a pen and paper. “This is great.”
“You’re welcome,” King said drily. “So you think he’s okay to do this. Be with me and Jane?”
“Are you really asking me if he’s okay to be with you?”
King immediately shook his head. “No. This is about the three of us.”
“Why?”
“I’m starting to hate that word.” King just sighed when Mark laughed. “Because I’ve been with guys in the past. When I came to the NFL, I decided it was just easier to stick to girls, you know? I like them both the same. It’s all good.” Mark was nodding, listening to everything King was saying. “But I like it better, what I did with Sam and Jane, all of us together. Not one or the other. I didn’t know I’d like that. But, man.” He shook his head. “Hottest thing I ever did. True. I want more of that.”
“Interesting,” Mark said. He looked down at his watch. “And my lunch hour is over.” He grimaced. “I have another appointment. Sorry.” He stood up and held out his hand. “We should do this again.”
“Why?” King asked, standing up as well and shaking his hand. They both laughed at his question.
“Because I think it helps to have someone to talk about stuff with, that’s all,” Mark said. He shrugged. “It lightens the load, especially to talk with someone neutral, who’s there to listen and help when needed, but isn’t directly involved. Especially when you’re in a high-pressure career, and entering a high-pressure relationship. So, come by and talk whenever you feel like it.” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose it would do any good to tell you to make an appointment?”
“Nah,” King said. “When I got to talk, we talk. Right?” He left the office laughing.
Chapter 17
“So,” Sam said, channeling his nervous energy into the leg he was shaking as he sat beside Carmina. They were at the VA, waiting for a group session to start. Sam had been to a
couple of these before. He found talking to Mark more helpful. It wasn’t because he didn’t think any of these people could understand what he was going through. Just the opposite: they all did. But in group sessions, he felt like that trivialized his experiences. He knew a lot of people who attended didn’t feel the same way. Having other people around who understood and could relate helped them cope. But Sam just wasn’t the kind of guy who shared his innermost feelings with strangers. And he didn’t think that just because they’d been through similar experiences they were qualified to give him advice. But mostly it was because he didn’t like sitting around in a small room with a bunch of strangers. It made him too nervous. Probably the crowd thing. But Carmina liked going. What she didn’t like was going alone.
She looked over at him, a question on her face. To look at her you’d never guess she had a TBI. She was just as pretty as the day he met her. Big, soft, brown eyes with long lashes, a cute little nose, caramel-colored skin. Sam wasn’t sure why he’d never been attracted to her. But from the first time they met, he thought of her like a little sister. Probably had something to do with some macho crap ingrained in him since childhood to protect the weak and helpless, aka women. Which was bullshit and he knew it. That’s what one shrink had told him, anyway, as a way to explain his guilt over Carmina’s injury. He glanced at her hair. It had grown out a lot. She’d had a buzz cut for a while after the injury. Now it was down to her chin in a swingy little style that suited her. He should tell her that. He realized as her eyes narrowed that he’d been staring too long and hadn’t answered her question.
“I met a girl,” he blurted out. Carmina’s eyes went wide and then she gave him a big grin and held out her fist for him to bump. Her dog, Buster Keaton, sat up and watched them. He was a service dog and Carmina loved him like crazy. The love was mutual as far as Sam could tell. Buster K, as Sam called him, was a big-ass mutt with some German shepherd and some lab and maybe some bulldog in him. He had cards in his blue vest that described Carmina’s condition, and they had a sign language between them so she could command him without words. He helped to calm her down if she got panicked, too, but that didn’t happen often.
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