"I love how men are so easily amused. I mean, all they need are a pair of boobs in front of their face and their cocks are nearly ready to jump out of their pants."
"I don't know about that," I say, shaking my head and downing another large gulp of my margarita.
"What don't you know?" Erica asks. She leans down and carefully licks some of the salt from the rim of her margarita glass. "I'm telling you, it's true—at least with younger guys. I mean, I guess if a guy's like 80 years old or something, that may not be so true."
"Well, tell that to the Navy SEAL I met yesterday,” I say, and both girls can detect an upset tone in my voice.
“What?” Kim asks. "What SEAL? Was there a man in your life?”
"The keyword there is 'was'," I say. "I thought things were great. He was like a hero straight from a big budget blockbuster movie—the ones full of high-speed car chases and explosives and maybe even monsters the size of city buildings. He rescued me in the morning and there was an undeniable chemistry."
"And…" Kim says, "then what happened? I mean, it sounds like a fairy tale."
"Well, we had amazing sex," I reply. "Like really mind blowing, life-changing type of sex, and then he just sort of … disappeared."
"What do you mean disappeared?" Erica asks.
"Like a Houdini act or something. When I woke up, he was literally just gone," I say. "He didn't even bother saying goodbye; he didn’t leave a note, or a text, or anything."
"Who does that?" Kim shrieks, and now both of them are looking at me wide-eyed.
"Am I really that bad in bed?" I ask both of them. I feel like crying. Tears are threatening to spill over my eyelids.
"Oh, girl—no way!" Erica says, leaning in and rubbing my arm tenderly.
"Yeah, that can't be it," Kim agrees. "Oh, maybe he got called away on a secret mission. That happens you know … they're called 'quiet professionals' for a reason."
"I doubt it," I say, shrugging off the suggestion. "You're just trying to make me feel better. I really don't think Sanders was secretly called away to carry
out a mission in a war-torn country."
"You never know," Kim says, standing by her idea. "I'm just saying."
"Kim's right," Erica says. "Aren't SEALs always sworn to secrecy? They're always off doing all kinds of crazy stuff."
Sanders did seem to enjoy himself yesterday—we both did. I know I'm not imagining that. So, why did he leave so suddenly without bothering to tell me why? It just doesn't add up. Maybe he was called away on a mission, but if that was true, he could've at least said something … even hinted at it. But he never did, and something tells me that's not the real reason why he left.
I'm sure it has to do with me.
Just then, our waiter reappears. "Another round of drinks, ladies?"
"No, I'm fine," I reply, waving my hand over my empty drink and pushing the glass away.
"Oh come on," Kim goads. "The night's young. Have just one more."
"No, thanks, I really shouldn't," I say, and I'm proud of myself for resisting the urge to jump into another round of drinks. I know from experience that it's never just 'one more.'
"But you two go ahead," I say, reassuring them that if they stay I won't feel left out of something.
"Have it your way, but you're missing out," Erica smiles. "Just think, with a couple more shots of tequila, you won't even care what Sanders is up to."
The mention of his name makes my heart leap, and the sinking feeling in my chest returns.
I force a smile, and decline again. I step away from the table and walk over to each one of my friends, giving them big hugs.
"Thanks for letting me vent," I say, giving them one last squeeze. They both nod.
"Anytime," Kim smiles. "We're here for you girl."