Page 7 of Ex-SEAL Bad Boy

I’m also realistic enough to know it’s a fool’s errand. Bad boys can’t be changed.

I know from experience.

Like a lot of girls, college was my first opportunity to really get out from under my parents. It was only about an hour away up the coast, so realistically I could commute daily, but the university encouraged first-year students to live in the dorms, if possible.

I thought having to make that trip twice a day would really cut into my studying time ... and, if we’re being honest, party time.

Dax was a junior when we met. He rode a motorcycle and wore a leather jacket. The reality was that he came from a solid middle-class family, and 99% of his tough guy persona was all an act, but I thought he was cool.

The reality was that he was actually just an asshole and didn’t have respect for anyone other than himself.

He was my first.

He was romantic enough, at least at first. Long walks along the beach, bringing me gifts just because. He took my virginity among the dunes, which isn’t nearly as romantic as it sounds.

To begin with, it was early October, and a little too cool for that. I was freezing the whole time. Then, for days, I was cleaning sand from places I didn’t even know I had.

Once he thought he had “claimed” me, the games started. Putting me down in front of his friends, dismissing my ideas.

I was young and naive, but not stupid. As much as I was attracted to him. He expected me to do everything for him and didn’t make an effort. I wasn’t going to put up with that.

Ever since, I’ve been wary of guys like that. And, unlike Dax, Ethan made no attempt to hide his disdain for me.

Speaking of the beach, after I get off work, I plan to head down there for a swim. It will be the first time since I've been pulled from the surf by Ethan.

Even though I had grown up on the beach, I have to admit, I’m a little apprehensive about going back into the water. Being caught in a riptide is nothing to take lightly.

“The dark alleyway, illuminated only by the dim rays of moonlight that filtered through the clouds, seemed especially foreboding in this particular city, the city of vampires. I hear a soft rustle like the fluttering of a bird’s wings, and it seems very close. I think fondly of my lover Henri and the time spent in his passionate embrace.”

Ah, this seems promising.

It's been a while since I indulged myself with a good steamy beach read. I especially enjoy romantasy involving vampires or witches, and it’s certainly a nice change from the dry marketing textbooks I’d been forced to study for the past four years.

There are only a few people on the beach. Not surprising for a weekday. A few translucent, diaphanous clouds stretch from horizon-to-horizon, and a couple of lonely seagulls squeal overhead, looking for a bite to eat.

None of my friends have joined me; they all had work or claimed prior commitments. It’s overly self-conscious of me, but I half wonder if my near drowning had somehow spooked them, as if bad luck was somehow contagious.

The constant roar of the surf provides background as I study the water for patterns in the incoming waves that might indicate a riptide is present.

Patches of ripples in otherwise calm water or waves coming at an angle are telltale signs, but obviously they’re not foolproof. Otherwise, I never would have been caught in one a few days ago.

The water seems to be fine. Still, I’m hesitant to go in.

I recall the feel of being inextricably pulled into deep and deeper water, unable to touch bottom.

Of course, I remember the lesson that had been drilled into my head since I was little that if caught in a rip current, swim parallel to shore until you’re out of it, but no matter how much I struggled to paddle out of it, I wasn’t making any progress.

I started to panic.

I don’t remember screaming, but I must have.

Suddenly, as I had almost given up hope, a powerful arm wrapped around me.

It felt strong and confident, I knew I would be fine.

Many people are so desperate that they struggle against their rescuer, but I relaxed into my savior’s grasp.

I remember looking up into the sun as I lay on my back, thinking that if I wasn’t fighting for my life, this might not be so bad.

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