Page 3 of The Playboy SEAL
Thirty minutes later I end the class and leave the studio with the lights low and my class reflecting on their time spent here. I grab my water bottle from under the front desk and towel off, tossing the towel on the seat of the chair before I sit down. My front desk girl is gearing up to go clean the studio before the next class arrives.
I pull my cell phone out of the drawer and call Carina now that I’m free. She answers on the third ring.
“I’m good, right? Call me matchmaker Carina. You want his number or do want me to text it to you?” she gushes.
“I can’t believe he agreed. Did you tell him what I look like? Why would he agree to a blind date without knowing I’m not a troll?” Men like Moose have standards. Usually high ones for actual dates—people who will be seen with them in public.
She pauses. “I don’t think he’s like that. He seems like a good guy.”
Oh, fuck. Not one of those. The monkey in the desert. Monkeys don’t belong in deserts. Everyone knows that.
“I told him you were pretty, though.”
She may be one of my best friends, but Carina’s as wild as one of my eyebrow hairs. She’s introverted for the most part, so it makes sense. She’s also an author who writes all day, in the dark, in her pajamas. Granted, her books are popular, but she needs to live a little, in my humble opinion. I think this new guy is good for her.
“Pretty is not how I want to be described, Care. I appreciate the compliment, though.” I laugh.
“What should I have said? That you’re a sex-crazed, lust-longing lion ready to attack their next victim? Like I said, I’m not sure that’s what he’s after. A fact thatshouldmake you happy.”
I grunt. “Give me his number.”
“You’re welcome,” Carina grumbles.
I take down his digits with a pen on a sticky note, and we make plans to work out together with our friend Jasmine. I hang up the phone, a little disheartened. Judd winks at me on his way by. I do my best to nod and smile instead of flipping him the bird.
That wouldn’t be very Zen of me, would it?
“Tell me again why you don’t have a girlfriend?” I ask Moose.
He’s sitting next to me on a barstool. It’s early, so the bar isn’t loud and crowded yet. I’m less interested in his reason than I am in watching his lips move. This man is beautiful in the rogue,I want to destroy your vaginakind of way. Except his personality doesn’t quite match up.Carina was, unfortunately, right.
He coughs, smiles, and pushes his lips to one side. “I haven’t found the right woman. I see no sense in entering relationships until I’m sure they’ll work out. It’s a conscious choice, not something that has come about because I have some enormous flaw. That’s why you’re asking, right? I promise you I’m not saddled with too much baggage.”
I smile. “I would never insinuate that a man as good-looking as you has a flaw,” I admit, flirting my ass off. “Isn’t that the whole purpose of dating, though? To figure out who works for you and who doesn’t?”
Moose has dimples—tiny little check marks on his cheeks any time he flashes his bright white grin. It’s mesmerizing. I swallow hard.
He takes a swig of his dark beer and drains his second pint tonight. Alcohol problem, perhaps? That would make sense. I start my mental man checklist.
“I think I know what I want.” He signals the bartender with a finger and points to the bar in front of him.
Oh, alcohol is definitely going on the list.
His honest reply shocks me.
“You do?”
Moose nods. “Yeah. Impossible standards, really.”
I take a small sip of my gin and tonic. This drink is about one hundred calories. His beer arrives, and he drinks half straight away. “Slow down. Or do you think I’m such horrible company that you need to be wasted? You’re going to have to explain those standards a little more thoroughly.” Color me intrigued.
He swivels to face me and takes one of my hands inhis. “Listen. I’m not really ready to date. I’m kind of hung up on someone. More than hung up. I agreed to go out on a date with you to…appease my friend. Throw him off.”
I widen my eyes. Someone starts the jukebox in the corner, and an awful rap song blares through every speaker in this dive bar.
“Which friend? Certainly not my friend,” I say, bringing my free hand to my chest. “Carina wouldn’t have cared either way. So it must be Smith? Why would you care about appeasing him?”
Smith is Carina’s boyfriend. She told me all about their date and how Moose showed up and agreed to go out on a date with me.
