The next morning, I had the balls to dawn shift. Today I would make sure she dropped. Kyle had given me an out. He had told me that we wouldn’t lower our standards. Well, she wouldn’t be able to meet them.

I was still so fucking pissed she had never told me she had joined the Navy. But she had been right about one thing.

I would’ve broken up with her if I had known she had wanted to be a SEAL.

How had I missed the signs? They were all there. Her excitement when I let her on base. Her anger when I told her that I didn’t think women should be in combat. Her obsession with Dirty Name.

Dirty Name.

Yes! That was it. Dirty Name was her Achilles Heel. She had spent an hour trying to conquer it but had been unable to. It had been a mental block for her.

It would be the reason she would fail.

My skin tingled with excitement. Because I knew she already had the run times and she had a great time in the ocean swim.

And she would never quit.

But if you don’t pass the “O” course in BUD/S, you fail.

And she would fail.

I laced up my boots and ran down to the base. Devin caught up with me.

“Nice tail, man. Though I think lavender is more your color.”

“Fuck off.”

“At least we don’t have to take bets about which one of us will bang her first. You already hit that.”

I smacked him. “Shut your fucking cock holster. Don’t you talk about her like that. Got it, rock star?”

Devin smirked. “Relax, man. I thought you hated her. I’ll be happy to take her off your hands.” He knelt on the ground and clasped his hands together. “‘Yes, Instructor Xander. Please let me suck your cock.’”

Rage pulsated through my body, and I slammed him against a locker. “What the fuck did I just tell you? If I hear you or any other guy harassing her, I’ll fuck you up. Am I clear?”

I released him, and he straightened his shirt. “Whatever, bro. I’m just fucking with you. I knew you still wanted her.”

“Fuck you.”

I stormed away from him, trying to put my mind on straight. Of course, I still wanted to fuck her. She was gorgeous, and I’d never forget for the rest of my life how warm her pussy felt in that cold ocean. How I fucked her raw against the wall. How she had been my dirty girl.

But it didn’t matter anymore. I could never be with her again.

I walked down to the beach to join the other instructors on the earlier shift.

The recruits were linked arm and arm in the surf as the waves crashed over them. The men had their shirts off, and Aria was wearing a sports bra. Some of the men were gasping for breath; others were gagging on the salt water.

But not Aria. She lay in the middle of the shore, her bra sandy and wet, and took deep breaths when each wave passed over her.

She didn’t seem stressed. She didn’t seem frustrated. It was almost as if she was calm. Completely centered and zoned. What the fuck? This wasn’t yoga—this was surf torture.

I grabbed the microphone. “Get wet and sandy.”

The class ran up the beach, dropped and rolled in the sand.

She ran in front of me, her body covered in sand head to toe. Some of the other men hadn’t followed my orders—leaving portions of their body clean. But not Aria.

I ignored her and yelled at another man. “Hey, I see your chest and arms aren’t covered. I told you to get sandy. When I give you an order, you follow it. Is that clear?”

“Hooyah, Instructor Anderson.”

“Now get sandy.”

I stepped away from the group and strode over to Kyle. “How’d she do on the run?”

He smirked at me. “Thirty-one minutes. She was one of only ten who passed. Not the fastest time but she made it. And she was second in the ocean swim. I’ll be honest with you; I think she’s going to make it.”

I looked back over at her, doing mountain climbers in the sand. Her body was in plank position as her knees alternated stepping under her chest.

Some of the men’s hips were raised in the air, but not Aria’s. She maintained her flat back and alignment.

Kyle was right—she could make it. The only thing that stood in the way of her and that trident was Dirty Name.

And me.