Between the different parts of training, we get time off. I meet up with Carey sometimes, but not very often. I promised Mac I wouldn’t call her, and I assume that includes not visiting her, either. Though I did kind of break that rule just a tad. Maybe I’ve just gotten grumpy, like a bitter old man. After all, how long can you be in love with someone who doesn’t love you back without getting depressed and frustrated? We said goodbye to each other over a year ago now, and I can count the times we’ve seen each other since then on one hand. Actually, it’s just two fingers.

I don’t want to sound like a pussy, but I long for her every day. Every day. When I see other Marines walking off with their girls, I want that, too. Not with just any girl—with Mac.

Not having sex isn’t exactly making things easier… It really isn’t. Hell, how did I ever come up with that stupid idea anyway? And yet…

Something inside me says I’m doing the right thing. But on days like this, where I miss her so much, I want to kick the shit out of myself for ever thinking it’s the right thing.

On one long break from training, I go to D.C. to see Devon and Ava. I can’t believe it’s been over a year since I last saw them. After Devon picks me up from the airport, we drive to a restaurant, where Ava is waiting for us. But she’s not alone. There’s a pretty blonde sitting next to her.

Oh, no, she didn’t!

“God, Hunter! You’re even bigger than you used to be!” Ava squeals before she throws herself into my arms.

I want to drop the little matchmaker on the floor, but I don’t think Devon would appreciate that. So I just hug her back instead.

“This is my friend Laura,” Ava says. And that’s when I realize that, yes, she indeed did…

A date.

I look at Devon, who shrugs innocently. Sure. Like he had no idea. That’s just great.

“Hi, Laura,” I say, holding out my hand.

She takes it in her small, soft hand, which is sporting manicured nails that are way too long. You’d have to worry about getting stabbed having sex with those nearby. Fuck, if she sunk those claws in your back, you’d look like you’d been whipped.

“Hi, Hunter,” she purrs. “How you doing?” Yeah, she’s on the hunt. Definitely. And she wants me to be her prey. Ironic, really, considering my name.

“Great,” I say, trying to be friendly. “How about you?” As I sit at the table, I try to kill Ava with my eyes, but she just ignores the daggers I’m throwing her way.

I’d like to order a whiskey because I know I won’t make it through this otherwise. But as I am still not twenty-one I have to live through this hell sober. How Ava can think I’d go for a plastic doll like Laura, I have no idea.

Even before I only had eyes for Mac, a girl like her was never my type. Nope, I want somebody else… I want a warm smile, the kind of smile that shows a little, slightly crooked tooth. Not too bad, just a tad twisted, making her all the more interesting. I want that brown, wild hair that always looks a little like somebody just buried his hands in it. I want tits too big to succumb to the limits of a bra, jiggling up and down untamed. I want brown eyes that can look so fiery they could burn you if you come even one step closer—but can also look so gentle you just want to sink into them. I want a deep, slightly rough voice saying my name, only the six letters of my name and nothing else. I want endless legs that look fucking hot in those weird sandals with thick soles. What are they called again? Fries? Chips? Wedges? No idea. Something to do with potatoes.

Something nudges me, and I see it’s Devon, trying to wake me from my daydream.“Uh, what?” I ask the table at large, finding them all staring at me.

“I said what’s next for you, then?” Laura repeats her question.

“Um, next step is joining the Combatant Divers,” I say, clearing my throat, “and then hopefully I’ll be admitted to SEAL training.”

“Aren’t the SEALs divers?” Ava asks.

“Sure, but not everybody gets in. But you need it for FORECON.

“So the divers are kind of a safety net if you’re not good enough to be a SEAL?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“A Marine,” Laura purrs. “There’s nothing as hot as a man in uniform…”

I could list a hundred things hotter than that… A blowtorch, a furnace, napalm…

Ava must guess my thoughts, because the next second, she kicks me in the shin. I flinch—because it freaking hurts—but then remind myself not to be such a pussy. Once, during training, I dislocated my shoulder. Now that hurt.

“Why are women into uniforms?” I ask Laura, pretending to be interested in her reply.

She twists a strand of hair around her finger. Why do women do that? Seriously. It’s not sexy. Not the least bit.

“It looks good,” she says, like the brilliant philosopher she is, “and I like the idea that my man could protect me…”

The award for most original statement of the evening goes to…Laura!

“Personally, I think it’s because the pants are so tight around the ass,” Devon pipes up.

“Damn,” I chuckle, “the stuff you notice, man!”

He just laughs.

“But you’re right,” I concede. “They’re damn tight.” That’s only our gala uniforms, of course, not our cammies.

I feel a hand on my thigh, pressing down slightly. Luckily, she’s not putting her nails there…

I don’t want her to touch me…and yet…when her hand slides higher up, I can feel my dick reacting. That motherfucker. Not even he can be relied upon. No, he just insists on causing trouble. Like now, when she puts her hand directly on my crotch—the thing is rearing its head to be touched by her. Fuck.

But, like I explained to you before, male brains work in weird ways…and that goes for dicks, too.

I’m in hell.

Laura bends toward me and whispers, “That seems to be quite a package.”

And she’s right.

The question is: Do I want it unwrapped?

I know the answer, but I also know it’s not just sex I’m longing for. What I’m really longing for is being close to someone. Maybe it’s not cool to admit this, being a man and all, but I like to cuddle. Sure, not with a one-night stand or anything, but I always used to cuddle a little with Liza after we had sex—at least later on in our arrangement… And it was good. How much better would it be if it was the woman you actually loved? Feeling her beautiful curves, her heartbeat under my fingers as I touch her tits…

In the real world, our group in the restaurant carries on. We eat, chat, drink. It’s great to be spending time with Devon and Ava. And in spite of all the plastic, Laura isn’t as bad as I initially thought. When she’s not doing the sexy pussycat act, she’s pretty interesting. The only thing wrong with her—apart from her claws—is that she’s not my girl. And never will be.

But maybe she’s a girl for one night… It would be good to lie next to a nice-smelling body for a change—instead of a smelly Marine.

“What have you two been up to?” I ask Devon and Ava. “What’s college like?”

“I like it,” Devon says. “It’s tiring, but it’s cool to get to explore all the opportunities out there.”

“You sound totally gay.”

He grins. “I’m not the one living with a sore dick from rubbing it so hard all the time.”

“Touché.” He’s right, of course. Maybe I’ll let this girl have a taste after all…

I look over at her. She’s smiling at me. In a warm way that tells me she’d definitely let me in. I’m a handsome bastard, after all. Women never could say no to me. Except for the one. And she’s the only one I want. God, I’m fucked. And not in a good way.

As we walk out, Devon and Ava quickly say goodbye and leave. So I’m left standing there with Laura, looking down at her. She is nice. And good-looking.

“Are you coming over?” she asks bluntly.

Aren’t those the words every man on this goddamn planet wants to hear, especially coming from a pretty woman? God, what is wrong with me? Something must be broken inside this brain of mine, because I hear myself say: “I can’t.”

She looks hurt but tries to hide it. “Why not? I could tell I was turning you on. And you turn me on, too.”

“I know.”

“So what is it?”

As if it’s not bad enough already, my mouth just goes ahead and tells her, “I’m in love with someone else.”

She smiles a little. “I didn’t know that. Ava didn’t say anything…”

I shrug, not knowing what to tell her. I’ve already gone into more detail than I intended. What a fucked-up situation. Just totally awkward.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Hunter.” She smiles before putting a hand on my arm and firmly looking me in the eye. “I hope it all turns out well for you.”

“Thanks,” I say quietly before I open the door of her car for her and watch her get in. When she’s gone, I call Devon to ask for their address. And when I arrive in a cab, Ava looks shocked.

“Hunter, what on earth is wrong with you?”

“Mac.”

* * *

The time with my friends goes by much too quickly—as usual—and on the plane to Panama City, Florida, where the Navy Diving and Salvage Training Center is, I leaf through a magazine. That’s when Mac’s face is suddenly smiling up at me from a glossy page.

For a moment, I’m confused, and then I smile back. She looks stunning. Breath-taking. I read every word of the story, greedily wolfing down every bit of information I can find on her. Once again, I realize she’s under my skin, and she’s not getting out of there any time soon. It would be so much easier if I could just forget about her.

In Florida, I meet up with Killian, who manages to distract me with his laid-back ways. It’s good to have someone like him in my corner. And, together, our time here truly flies.

It only takes thirty-five training days to finish the program. It includes a lot of theory, which I don’t mind—studying has never been difficult for me. But Killian sometimes struggles a little. Still, we don’t meet any serious obstacles in that area. It’s the physical training that really hurts. It pushes me to my limits, but I’m glad for it. For one thing, at the end of each day, I’m simply spent, which I welcome—it means I can’t think. Also, it gives me a taste of what SEAL training is going to be like, giving me the opportunity to think about whether I actually have the strength to go through something like that.

After all, this part has been super intense. Our instructors attacked us underwater, doing things like taking off our masks so we couldn’t breathe. They disoriented us so we didn’t know which way was up and which was down. They made us jump into the water from a helicopter and then pulled us out again so we were dangling in the air secured only to a thin line.

I knew it would be bad. Really. But I had no idea. Not really.

That’s why, when I’m standing next to Killian after passing our last exam, my chest swells with pride. We made it. A program most people would never get through. We got through it. I’m damned proud of myself. And I’m proud of him.

And I’m ecstatic as we head back to San Diego…