On the way back to Coronado, I realize how proud I am of my girl. She’s strong and brave, facing her fears and talking about something she’s still struggling with, just to help others.

Maybe we will never be a couple. Maybe she will never fall in love with me. But I’m happy she’s part of my life. Not loving her would make a lot of things easier for me, sure, but I would also be missing out.

With new determination, I look at the six months lying ahead of me. I’m not taking them lightly. Marine training has pushed me to my limits, but I’m no longer the same person. I’m stronger, physically and mentally. The things about the military that I used to hate, like the constant yelling, have become normal for me. I’ve learned a lot about myself over the past two years, and I know I can do this. The more time I spend as a Marine, the more I realize that this is exactly what I was born to do.

The SEAL training consists of three phases, and once again, Phase One is the toughest. If you can get through it, you can get through the rest, too. Phase One is about physical performance, Phase Two introduces combatant diving—which should be easy for me—and Phase Three is about land warfare. But the very first five weeks are the pre phase, in which we’re introduced to the SEAL lifestyle and the training lying ahead of us. Then Phase One begins.

“He’s trying to kill us,” Killian mumbles beside me.

“Did you say something?” our DI screams behind us.

“Sir, no, sir!” Killian answers as loud as he can.

“A hundred push-ups!” the DI barks.

Killian plops down and starts. A boot kicks my calf. “You, too. A hundred and fifty.”

Everything inside me screams that it’s not fair because I didn’t say a word, but one important quality in military training is team spirit. We are a team. If one person makes a mistake, we all pay for it. So I fall to the ground and push myself up, counting aloud. Reminding myself that it was me who wanted this.

Afterwards, we have to run four miles in our boots carrying our gear. The sun is burning down on us, and our gear is dragging us down, making us heavier and slower, but there’s a guy in front of us, yelling if we don’t obey his every order.

This is not like boot camp, though, because we actually get a few hours of square-away time in the evenings. Allegedly, we’re going to get weekends off, too, but we’ll see.

“Hey, man,” I say as I sit down next to Killian one evening.

“Hey, this letter-writing is not my thing,” he says. He’s been working on a letter to his girl for a while now. “I’d prefer to send her some sexy texts.”

I grin. “But girls like letters.”

“How do you know? Have you written one to Mac yet?”

I shake my head. He’s got me. I don’t actually know, because I’m not writing to Mac or any other girl, and haven’t even had sex in more than two years. Let’s just say my right hand is really sore.

Killian is studying my face, which I think might look a bit morose. Finally, he says, “It’s your business, Hunt, but if you don’t feel good about your situation, change it.”

“I love her.”

“I know, but there’s nothing moving. I’ve known you for two years now, and you haven’t made one bit of progress on that front.”

“At least things haven’t gotten any worse,” I say quietly.

He nods. “But is that good enough for you? You deserve a girl who’s over the moon whenever she sees you. When we get a weekend off, she should be there waiting for you at the gate, jumping into your arms when you get out, pushing her hot pussy against your dick and whispering in your ear that she’s not wearing any panties.”

“Yeah, man, she should!” I punch his shoulder. “But look at you giving me advice. Your girl ain’t here, either.”

“She lives in fucking Texas,” he grumbles.

I laugh. “You love Texas.”

“Not when it’s so far away,” he says. “But that’s my point, see? Your girl could be standing at the gate.” He gives me a somber look.

I scratch my neck. “I just can’t move on to another girl.”

“Why not? It’s abnormal not to fuck around when you’re barely in your twenties.”

I take a few deep breaths. “I feel like I have to earn her.”

He raises his eyebrows. “And earning her means you’re not allowed to fuck anybody else?”

“I want to show her I’m waiting for her.”

“Does she know you’re doing that?”

“No.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to tell her?”

I put my hands on my neck. “She would tell me to go have fun.”

“And that’s exactly what you should be doing, for fuck’s sake!”

I nod. “Yes, but even if she did say that, subconsciously, she’d probably think I’m showing my true dedication to her by not doing it. So I wouldn’t do it. It would make her feel bad. And…you know, I don’t want that.”

“Fuck, man! You’re overthinking this. You’re thinking like you have a pussy. Don’t get me wrong, man, I love pussy, but I wouldn’t want to be one.”

“Hey, ladies,” Donovan calls over to us, “how about some Prosecco to go with your deeply emotional conversation?”

“Fuck you!” I call back.

“Is it true what they say about you, Tilman?” Rivers shouts.

“What do they say about me?” I ask, even though Killian is warning me, shaking his head.

“That you’re still a virgin?”

I shrug. “Why don’t you ask your mom?”

Everybody in the room breaks out in a loud Ooooh! Mom jokes always do the trick.

Rivers gets up and comes at me, gesturing like an angry baboon. “Leave my mom out of this!”

I give him an arrogant grin. “She said something similar before I fucked her four times.”

“You little fuck!” he screams, launching himself at me. But before he reaches me, Donovan has him in a headlock.

“Calm down, man! Don’t let him provoke you,” he says quietly before releasing him.

Shaking his head, Rivers taps my arm. “Last warning, Tilman. Next time, I’m going to kick your ass,” he snarls.

I get up, emphasizing every inch of our height difference. “We’ll see about that, shall we?”

Before Donovan can interfere, Rivers punches toward my face. I dodge it, grab his wrist, and throw him on the floor. Swearing, he climbs to his feet and squares up, preparing to launch another attack.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Killian on standby.

Rivers stands in front of me, breathing heavily. “Somebody needs to teach you fucking Marine assholes some manners.”

“Did he just insult the Corps?” I ask Killian.

“I think so,” Killian says.

I raise my hand, and with one well-aimed punch, I knock Rivers out.

Everybody else in the room stares at me. Rivers is smaller than me, but he’s strong. They don’t take any pussies at BUD/S. Everyone in the room knows the value of my little demonstration here.

Killian and I walk back to our spot in the corner. “I don’t think we have to worry about that asshole anymore,” he grins, adding, “Killer.”

“Did you say something, Texas?” I joke.

He laughs and proceeds to finish his letter. I just sit next to him and think about Mac.