Page 92 of Playboy

Playboy, on the other hand, was doubled over, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Nails’ date turned beet red, her eyes narrowing as she whipped around to glare at Nails, who looked like he’d just been hit by a truck. “Your broomstick?Really, Nails?!”

As the woman stomped off, letting Nails have it with every step, the rest of the team was barely keeping it together, shaking with laughter.

“Nice one, Amira,” Playboy managed to choke out between fits of laughter, wiping tears from his eyes.

Gabby, still holding Amira’s mouth, gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Let’s maybe steer clear of Uncle Nails’ conversations from now on, okay?”

“I second that,” Jocelyn said, looking mortified.

As the night started winding down, Gabby and Playboy said their goodbyes and began walking back to the car. Gabby held Playboy’s hand, enjoying the peacefulness as they walked, butan uneasy feeling crept into her chest. It was that same spidey feeling she had the other day at Jocelyn’s house.

She glanced around, her senses sharp, but everything seemed normal. Still, something didn’t sit right. It was like a subtle chill in the air, one she couldn’t quite shake.

“You good?” Playboy asked, his voice soft as he glanced down at her.

Gabby forced a smile, not wanting him to worry. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. “Alright, but if something’s up, you’ll tell me.”

She nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.” But deep down, she knew it wasn’t nothing. That unease gnawed at her as they reached the truck. Something felt off, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. But the last thing she wanted was to ruin the night. Not when everything had gone so perfectly.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Gabby stood at the edge of the pool, the cool water shimmering under the afternoon sun. Her heart raced as she stretched her arms and legs, focusing on loosening up before the final leg of her Physical Fitness Test. She’d already passed the push-ups, sit-ups, and the mile-and-a-half run, crushing each event with scores that beat the male requirements for her age group. Only one test remained—the swim.

She needed to swim four hundred yards in under twelve minutes. But what others didn’t know is that she had been training for the men’s requirement of five hundred yards in under twelve minutes. Before her injury she could do it with no problem. But now she was borderline. Her practice times kept coming in just over the twelve minutes mark.

She rolled her shoulders, trying to ignore the nerves fluttering in her stomach. It wasn’t just about passing the test anymore. Ever since she left the hospital, Gabby had been training for this moment. Not to stave off the inevitable—her medical discharge was still coming, no matter how fast she swam—but to prove that she wasn’t broken. To silence all the doubters, the haters like Vice Admiral Alley, who had dismissed her the moment she was injured.Oh, how good it would feel to rub this in his face,she thought.

Her mind flashed to the physical therapy sessions, the grueling hours spent in the pool, and the early morning runs where her body screamed in protest, but she pushed through anyway. All of it had been leading to this.One final test. One final “screw you” to those who thought she couldn't do it.

Gabby bent down to adjust her goggles and caught movement in the bleachers out of the corner of her eye. A crowd had gathered, and it was larger than she’d anticipated. She squinted, trying to make out the faces, and her heart swelled when she saw Captain Graham and her team sitting front and center, already clapping and shouting out words of encouragement to her. And then there was Playboy, standing tall among his SEAL team at the top of the bleachers. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was sporting a proud smile. Clover was there too, sitting with Tink and a few of his guys from his security firm. Even her parents had come. Seeing all those people made her stomach twist with pride and nervousness.They are all here because they believe in me.

But those in the stands weren’t just her supporters. A small, sour-faced group sat at the opposite end. And sitting right in the middle, glaring at her with a look of pure contempt, was Vice Admiral Alley. She wondered how he even knew she was taking the test. His presence sent a wave of irritation through her, but she shook it off. She couldn’t afford any distractions.Let him watch,she thought. She was about to make his life very uncomfortable.

Gabby had decided not to wear her swimming prosthetic. She could’ve used it. And it would have made it a bit easier, but she was determined to prove nothing had changed in regards to her strength.

As she stood at the edge of the pool, waiting for the signal to begin, she felt a strange mix of nervousness and excitement buzzing in her veins. Her heart pounded in her chest, but it wasn’t fear—it was anticipation.This is it. All the pain, all the struggle—it’s for this.

The whistle blew, and Gabby dove into the water. Her body sliced through it with precision. Her stride and strokes came naturally, muscle memory kicking in as she focused on herbreathing, her movements, the steady propulsion of her body through the water.

Lap after lap, she kept her pace steady, her mind focused on the numbers ticking by in her head. Every pull, every kick, was a reminder of how far she’d come.Keep going. Keep pushing.

By the time she hit the halfway mark, her arms and legs were burning, and her lungs were straining. But the crowd noise began to pick up. She could hear them now, even underwater—the cheers, the shouts of encouragement from her team, her family, and Playboy’s deep voice rising above the rest. It fueled her, gave her that extra burst of energy she needed as she powered through the water.

The final lap approached, and Gabby’s body screamed for relief, but her mind refused to quit.Just a little more. I’ve got this.As she turned into the last lap, the roar from the bleachers intensified, and for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that she could beat the time.

With every stroke, the finish drew closer, and by the last few yards, her entire body was on fire. The moment her hand touched the wall, she immediately looked at the timer—eleven minutes and fifty-seven seconds. She had beaten the male score by three seconds.

Gabby stared at the clock in disbelief for a split second before the noise around her fully registered. Cheers erupted from the bleachers, and her team came rushing toward the edge of the pool, shouting her name. She could see Captain Graham clapping, Clover jumping up and down, and her parents wiping away tears. But the one face she was searching for was Playboy’s.

As her teammates helped pull her out of the water, congratulating her, she scanned the crowd for him. And then there he was, pushing through the sea of people, his smile wide and full of pride.

“Gabby!” Playboy called out, his voice thick with emotion.

Before she could say anything, he was lifting her off the ground, wrapping her up in his strong arms as though she weighed nothing at all. Gabby let out a breathless laugh, her arms winding around his neck as he spun her around.

“I’m so damn proud of you,” Playboy whispered in her ear, his voice soft but full of meaning. “You did it.”

---