Page 47 of The Playboy SEAL
“It’s different for everyone,” she says, turning her eyes away from me. “It never feels the same twice.”
Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. There has to be some singular quality that resides in love for each and every person. “I don’t believe that.” Though I’ve never experienced it.
Carina silences me with a look. “I thought I was in love, but when I met Smith, I realized the error of my ways. Sometimes love placates. Sometimes it washes over you like small waves coming and going. Sometimes it’s so deep you drown in it.”
I nod. I understand that. “Drowning. Death. Sounds about right.”
She laughs. “You’ll know. I think you already know.”
“I don’t know him well enough to say that for sure.”
“You miss him?” Carina asks. “You get excited to see him? You rearrange your life to fit him in it?” Even now, I’m jonesing to text him back. I miss him when we’re not together.
In favor of answering her questions, I tell her I’ll talk to him. She likes that answer better anyway. I can tell she doesn’t like being peppered with questions about love when she’s contemplating her own feelings in a new relationship. Does Smith love her? I wonder.
“How do you know if he loves you?” I ask quickly.
The bathroom door is open now. “He gave up an entire life for me.” Sadness replaces her former smile, and my stomach turns. What must it feel like to live withthat guilt?
“He got the better end of the deal,” I reassure her.
Her smile in response doesn’t meet her eyes. After she leaves, I snap a photo of a perfume bottle and send it to Smith.Love and perfume, I think. He’ll never get that one.
I walk back out to my friend’s gray living room and announce my departure.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Jasmine whoops.
Charlotte hugs me briefly and pushes me back toward the door.
“I have to get ready for my own date. It’s number two, though, so I won’t get to have as much fun as you,” Jasmine adds.
Stupid, stupid rules. I can’t fault them that much because I’m in a completely different place now that I followed along with their guidelines. I’d admit defeat before I admit they might hold some merit.
“You guys do realize I’ve banged a guy before, right?” I ask.
Carina smiles.
“Not one like him.” Charlotte cackles. “That man is intimidatingly beautiful.”
I shrug. “Not everyone can be as lucky as us,” I say, nodding at Carina.
She blushes. I close the door behind me and exit into the warm SoCal breeze. It will get colder by the minute at this point.
I text Macs a photo of my steering wheel, the German emblem barely visible in the low light. It doesn’t take long to get to his house using the freeway. Less than tenminutes later, I’m pulling into his driveway with shaking hands and a roiling stomach. Did I eat acid-tinged lettuce for lunch? Silently I give myself a pep talk as I pull my hair elastic out.
I flip down my mirror and fix my face using the few items I keep in my handbag. Mascara needs another coat. Blush for color I surely won’t need in T-minus five minutes, ChapStick instead of gloss. Gloss gets messy on dicks and lips. I’m comforted by the fact I’m going through the motions. This is what I would do before any normal date. Nothing is odd about my appearance or preparation. It’s comforting.
It’s everything inside me that is strange. He won’t see that part, though. “Breathe, Teala,” I whisper.
Locking my car using the fob, I sling my leather bag over my shoulder and head for his front door. Many of the tools and construction equipment that were here the first time I came over are now gone, and I’m able to see how truly beautiful his house is.
Macs is leaning against the doorframe when I round the corner. I startle.
“Hi.”
“Hi back,” Macs replies.
He’s shirtless, with a pair of lounge pants riding low on his chiseled, narrow hips. Even with a quick glance, I see the outline of his cock hanging against his leg. I don’t let my gaze stray anywhere too long, and when I meet his eyes, he’s still studying me through narrow, hungry eyes.
