Bad Behavior [Confuct Series #2]

by Jennifer Lane

  “I’m not homophobic!” Grant insisted. “I just don’t want to discuss my sex life with my damn shrink, okay?”

  Hunter was reeling. There were about one hundred potential directions to take this conversation, and he hoped the one he started with would be therapeutic. Still muddled by the very personal nature of his feelings toward Grant, he decided to address Sophie first.

  “Hold on, Sophie. You’re apologizing to me for Grant’s comment?”

  “Yes, I thought it was very disrespectful.” Her last word was directed at her boyfriend, who now appeared rather nervous about her obvious disappointment in him.

  “I see. So you’re responsible for the words coming out of his mouth, then?” Hunter asked.

  “But—I—he—” She halted, looking flummoxed, then let out her breath in a loud sigh. “Shit. I’m caretaking again, aren’t I?”

  Hunter’s grin eased the tension in the room. Grant glanced back and forth between them, trying to keep up. Eventually he spoke. “I apologize if I’ve insulted you, sir.”

  “No offense taken, Grant,” Hunter assured him. “You’ve never known a gay man before?”

  Grant looked at the floor. “I don’t think so, sir.”

  “How’s that possible?” Sophie interjected. Gay men were everywhere.

  “It seems Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is a rather effective policy,” Hunter responded. “Plus, many kids get the message from their religion or their family that homosexuality is wrong—a sin. I’m guessing a Catholic Mafia family would launch a full-out attack on anyone who appeared remotely gay?”

  Fucking faggot. Grant didn’t remember when or why his father had spit out those vitriolic words, but they immediately popped into his head. He nodded guiltily.

  Sophie thought for a moment before admitting, “I guess my dad’s hardly the champion of gay rights either.”

  Hunter tilted his head and scrutinized his clients.

  Grant turned away until Hunter began speaking to him.

  “The good news is that one of the best ways to reduce prejudice is to get to know a diversity of people, which can break through stereotypes. Obviously we can’t be friends since we’ve entered into a therapeutic relationship, but perhaps this’ll be an opportunity to learn a bit about homosexuality, if you like. I’ll certainly do my best to answer any questions you have.”

  “How are you so non-defensive about this?” Sophie demanded. “Doesn’t it hurt your feelings that some people refuse to accept your sexual orientation?”

  Stroking his chin pensively, Hunter said, “I used to get really riled up about it, and sometimes I still do. But I’ve also learned, after fifteen years of counseling, that people have reasons for what they do. I may not like it when a client has a different way of looking at the world than I do, but fortunately I get a glimpse of understanding. Surely when you were doing therapy you had the opportunity to appreciate what motivated your clients to behave in seemingly bizarre ways?”

  She twirled a strand of strawberry-blond hair, contemplating what he said. She’d certainly grasped why Logan was so reticent and mistrustful. His father had simply beaten the trust out of him. “I guess so,” she softly agreed.

  “Let’s try to understand each other more, then,” Hunter suggested. “Now that your ridiculous pact is a thing of the past, how about you two ask each other some questions to get to know each other better? Find out what makes the other tick.”

  Sophie found herself bursting with questions, and she had no problem being the first to take Hunter up on his suggestion. She turned to Grant, picking up on a comment he made earlier. “So, you didn’t talk about sex much with your buddies?”

  He shrugged. “There wasn’t much to discuss.”

  “What do you mean? I’m sure you were the big stud. You must have lots of stories.”

  Grant’s face colored as he realized the conversation was taking an undesirable turn. He’d be embarrassed as hell if she learned about his lack of sexual prowess. Trying to throw out something, anything to satisfy her, he mumbled, “I, um, I had some girlfriends when I lived on the base, but I didn’t exactly want to deflower the daughters of Navy officers—not if I wanted to live.”

  Hunter grinned and Sophie asked, “What about in college?”

  Damn. Apparently she was going to ask more questions. “Uh, I dated one girl in ROTC.”

  “What was her name?”

  That question seemed safe enough. “Pamela.”

  Sophie easily slipped into interrogation mode. “Did you have sex with her?”

  Grant’s eyes pleaded with Hunter to rescue him, but the psychologist stayed quiet, sporting a neutral facial expression. He wanted to hear this as well.

  Finally Grant responded. “Yes, but we broke up our senior year.”

  Sophie considered his answer. “You were both in ROTC—were you ordered to go to different assignments?”

  “No, this was before we were deployed. She…” He looked down, nervously clenching his hands together. “She wanted to meet my family. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Oh.” Sophie bit her lip, not knowing what to say. She looked to Hunter, who nodded at her, seeming to encourage her to continue. He liked it when couples talked to each other instead of through him, as long as the communication was constructive. And considering their ongoing trust issues, Hunter believed they needed to put it all out on the table.

  “So, what happened to Pamela?” Sophie asked tentatively. “Should I be worried about her?” she added lightly.

  Grant didn’t smile. “She’s married. I read about it in the Notre Dame alumni magazine.” I’d be married too, he thought, if only I came from a different family.

  “Phew,” Sophie responded, exaggeratedly wiping her brow.

  This did bring a slight grin to Grant’s face, though it faded quickly upon hearing her next question:

  “How about after college? I bet you had tons of girlfriends.”

  Once again he blushed furiously. Unable to speak, he simply shook his head.

  Sophie’s lips parted with disbelief. “Grant Madsen, are you lying to me? You’re telling me you’ve only had sex with one woman?”

  “Thanks for rubbing it in,” Grant commented ruefully before narrowing his eyes at Hunter. “This therapy thing is great.”

  “No, I’m not trying to make fun of you!” Sophie protested, suddenly feeling a little nervous about her own more-extensive sexual history. She gazed at him endearingly. “I simply adore that you have no idea how damn hot you are.”

  Hunter agreed. He adored Grant’s modesty too. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley, he silently repeated, attempting to focus.

  She caressed Grant’s strong jaw, eagerly leaning in to him. Facing her on the sofa, he drew her even closer for a loving kiss.

  “I also find your lack of experience hard to believe,” she added, her face inches from his, “since you’re so magnificent in bed.” They smiled through their next kiss.

  Bradley, Bradley, Bradley…

  “And how do you know I’m skilled in bed?” Grant retorted, pulling back from the kiss and shooting her an expectant look.

  Now Sophie turned to Hunter, hoping for assistance, but he just smiled. “Turnabout is fair play, Sophie.”

  She scowled. Grant derived great pleasure from the story of her first boyfriend, Derek Bowden, her father’s former employee who’d failed a drug test at the construction company. “So I’m not the only boyfriend your father’s disapproved of?”

  “Oh-ho-ho,” Sophie replied, shaking her head and chuckling. “You’re certainly not alone in that. My father’s disapproved of every single boyfriend I’ve ever had—except the almost-boyfriend he didn’t know about.”

  “And who would that be?” Grant inquired.

  Sophie realized she’d spoken before thinking. She had no desire to share the tale of falling for her married grad-school professor with Grant, though he’d answered all of her probing questions.

  She glanced up, finding a hint of amus
ement in his shining blue eyes. “Well, it wasn’t really a relationship,” she began. “More like a schoolgirl crush on my professor that was very one-sided, as I embarrassingly discovered after confessing my love for him. God, I was such an idiot!”

  Grant watched her berate herself, and he wondered how on earth a man could have turned her down.

  “He was married,” she finally admitted, examining Grant’s expression for disapproval, but finding only surprise.

  Now Grant wondered why such a beautiful, fascinating woman would need to throw herself at a married man.

  “He is married,” she amended, looking at Hunter. “Did I tell you I have the pleasure of working with him now?”

  Hunter quirked his eyebrows. “Your professor is still at DePaul?”

  Grant felt his stomach twist. Sophie’s former crush was working with her every day? Why hadn’t he heard about this before?

  “Yeah,” she confirmed. “David Alton’s still there. He’s Kirsten’s advisor, of all things. And her dissertation defense is coming up, so I’ll be seeing a lot of him, I’m afraid. At least I don’t have to be on Kirsten’s committee.”

  Grant’s voice was not as steady as he’d hoped. “Your professor—Dr. Alton, is it?” When Sophie nodded, he continued, “Why did you like him?”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t know, Grant… It was over five years ago! David just had this suave, older-man thing going on—”

  “How old is he?”

  “Almost fifty, I think.”

  Grant’s jaw dropped. He didn’t want to ask his next question but knew he must. “Do you still like him?”

  “No!” She watched his expression carefully. “What are you thinking? Do you think I’m an awful person?”

  “No.” His response was just as emphatic. “I’m just trying to wrap my mind around how a woman as beautiful as you would be attracted to these losers.”

  His compliment made tears prickle at the back of her eyes, and she didn’t trust herself to speak.

  Hunter jumped in. “That’s exactly my question, Grant. Do you want to share the insights you’ve learned about your dating life, Sophie?”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. “Hunter and I talked about the losers I’ve dated—” she aimed a small smile at Grant “—well, except for you, of course, and we figured out that I chose bad boys and older men to try to get back at my father. He’s never approved of me, and I wanted to show him I didn’t need his approval by deliberately picking partners he would hate. It’s sick, really.” She shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

  “Hmm,” Hunter broke in. “Seems like both of your families have had a negative influence on your dating lives. Grant didn’t allow women to get close for fear they’d reject him because of his family, and Sophie intentionally chose partners so she could keep getting rejected by her family.”

  “Whoa.” Grant sat still, absorbing Hunter’s words. He gazed into Sophie’s luminous brown eyes and found a deeper connection than before, if that was possible. Maybe this therapy thing wasn’t so bad.

  After a few moments of silence, Grant pressed on. “So, um, if nothing happened with Dr. Alton, what about after him? Were you with other men?”

  Sophie suddenly seized up with fear. She’d been dreading this conversation for quite some time, and she had no idea how to begin answering his question. Her face felt hot, and she couldn’t look at Grant.

  “Hey,” he said gently, taking her hand in his and stroking her forearm soothingly. “What’s wrong, Sophie?”

  “Please,” she choked out, still gazing down. “Please don’t make me tell you about Logan.”

  Grant abruptly dropped her hand and flinched away from her. “Logan?” he rasped. Damn it! How had he forgotten Sophie kissed his brother? He shook his head, trying to get that image out of his mind.

  Sophie was shaking her head too, and tears threatened to erupt. “I can’t see what good can come of this,” she murmured, glancing at Hunter and stealing a peek at Grant. “I can’t see what good can come from telling you I slept with your brother.”

  Grant gasped. “You had sex with Logan?”

  Her head snapped up. “I thought you knew!” Her eyes widened as his face went pale. “I told you I behaved inappropriately with a client, remember?”

  “You said you kissed him!” Grant roared, scooting farther away from her on the sofa.

  Hunter felt his chest tighten as he watched the horrible scene unfold.

  “I said I kissed him, and I…I did some other things too,” she admitted, stinging tears now cascading down her face. She didn’t want to hurt Grant—God, she didn’t want to hurt him any more! His family had hurt him far enough.

  “I was so ashamed,” she cried. “I couldn’t tell you what we’d done, but I thought you’d figured it out.”

  Grant took his head in his hands, anguished. Unable to contain himself, he popped off the sofa and began pacing around the room, feeling restless energy and a building pressure in his head that threatened to overwhelm him. He’d buried Logan! And now his brother felt very much alive again; his brother was still here to ruin his life. Logan’s palpable presence in the room was immensely disturbing.

  Finally, standing by the aquarium set into the wall, his back turned to both psychologists, Grant whispered, “How?”

  Sophie wrung her slender hands. “How?” she repeated.

  He spun around, and she was immediately frightened by the cold glint in his eyes. “How did it get to the point that you fucked my brother?”

  Sophie inhaled sharply and drew her hand to her mouth, sobbing in earnest now. Sensing the waves of fury rolling off of Grant, Hunter carefully instructed, “Grant, take some deep breaths. You two will get through this.”

  The muscles lining Grant’s jaw rippled with hostility, but he did struggle to slow his accelerated breathing. Lightning-hot anger coursed through his veins, making his skin tingle.

  “You’re frightening Sophie,” Hunter said evenly, and Grant looked at him with surprise, seeming to shake himself out of a dissociated state. “I’d like you to take a seat.”

  Grant glanced at his girlfriend, who was almost hiccupping from crying so hard. “Yes, sir.”

  “Sophie, when you’re ready, try to answer Grant’s question, okay?”

  She nodded and scooped up some tissues from the box he offered her.

  There was another silence as both parolees looked down at their laps, lost in their own worlds of suffering. Now they didn’t seem so different from most of the other couples Hunter saw. He hoped they could bridge the huge chasm that had developed between them.

  Eventually Sophie had steadied herself enough to speak, though her voice still trembled. “I made so many mistakes, Grant,” she began. “I told Logan too much about myself. I was initially attracted to him, and I should’ve referred him, but I didn’t.”

  Hunter squirmed a bit in his chair as Sophie continued.

  “Then he told me an awful story from his childhood, and I tried to comfort him. That’s when I really screwed up. He…he kissed me, and I let him.” She sniffed. “And that eventually led to…other things.”

  Grant clenched his fists. No wonder Logan had lied about where he met Sophie. If his brother had felt one-tenth the shame and anger Grant was currently experiencing in therapy, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Grant was furious to still feel that ache inside him, thinking of his brother. He ached to be loved by Logan, a longing that would never be fulfilled.

  “What story did he tell you?” Grant growled.

  Sophie’s eyes got big. “You don’t want to hear it,” she said, desperate not to hurt him further. “Let sleeping dogs lie.”

  “What story?” he yelled.

  Sophie flinched.

  Knowing precisely what Logan had told Sophie before he kissed her, Hunter hesitantly nodded at her, preparing for the onslaught.

  Sophie pursed her lips and sniffed, glassy tears sliding down her pale skin. “He told me about a time when he was nine, and h
is, um, his younger brother was four. Please, Grant! I didn’t know it was you! I hadn’t even met you then!”

  Grant clenched his teeth and looked off to the side, watching the fish swim in lazy circles. He couldn’t look at her.

  Taking a shuddering breath, she resumed, “Your dad had just beat up your mom, and he was striking you both with a belt. In the closet.” Grant stopped breathing. “Logan said he tried to cover you so you wouldn’t get hit, but your dad dragged him away to his room. And your dad, he…he left you in the closet all night.”

  Grant’s face had gone white.

  “The next morning…” Sophie could barely get the words out, she was sobbing so hard. “The next morning, your dad—he got y-y-you out of the closet, and when he saw that you, that you—” She was almost hyperventilating. “That you peed your pants, he…he b-b-beat you again.”

  So it was true then. It had really happened. Apparently he had truly pissed in his pants, just like a baby—just like his dad said he was. Grant felt numb, and he was swept away on a river of the past, waking up in a sterile white room with a kindly older gentleman explaining that he’d gone catatonic in his solitary cell. He’d peed all over himself once again, this time as an adult. But really like a baby.

  The words sounded far off, like someone was calling for him. He felt like he was underwater as he heard his name repeated in slow motion. Like one of the fish in the nearby tank, he felt himself swimming to the surface agonizingly slowly. Blinking a few times, Grant found himself staring into Hunter’s concerned face.

  “Grant? I want to you focus on your breathing. Look around the room and tell me what you see.”

  Frantically, Grant felt beneath him and breathed out with relief when he touched the dry sofa cushion. He followed Hunter’s order and began haltingly scanning the room around him. When his gaze landed on his girlfriend’s gorgeous face, he took in her splotchy cheeks, stained with tears. But when he saw her eyes, his heart stopped. She looked at him with an expression of such raw pity—he knew he’d explode if he stayed one second longer.

  With wild eyes, Grant leaped off the sofa and flew to the door, exiting the office with lightning speed. He couldn’t care less if he’d be in trouble with Officer Stone for leaving the session early. He had to get out of there. Now.