Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 123

Chapter 123: Asher

The plate’s empty bedoes even registes I finished rating,

Across the room, ry’s rinsing hers, stacking mugs like she’s the head of kitchen staff. the dorm’t need to, on one her to but that’s the

gil she is Alys doing the small, quirt things that make her easy to melts and impotèle to izmant

I take another sip of lukewarm coffee, still watching her. The light from the window cuts acrom her cheek, and there’s a faint crede in her brow she’s deep in some thought I’ll probably never be allowed into. That sweater she above

pomtail.

And for some rasm I can’t name, that image feels like something I went to keep.

“Hey

lookvip.

It’s the blond guy

y from the night before Max.

He looks a little more awake now, dark hoodie, jeam, glass of orange juice in hand. He gives me a nod and the kind of smile that’s meant but doesn’t quite hit.

“Can I?” he asks, notioning to the seat next to mine.

I shrug once. “Sure.”

He sits, angles slightly toward me. “Sorry about yesterday, man. My friends were kinda…” he makes a gesture like he’s swatting fies. “Over–the–top

“They were fine,” I say.

“Still. You handled it better than most would”

I hum noncommittally.

He studies me for a second. “You look like a nice guy.”

“I’m not,” I say simply.

Max laugh once. “Yeah, okay I believe that.”

Beat of silence.

“You hang out with Penny and Tyler often?”

I lift a shoulder. “Here and there. Been horse a month,”

Max nods, like he already knew that somehow.

“She said you told her something.” I add. “About Tyler. You said to be careful.”

Here anyhow, cautious now. “You gonna punch me for talking about your brother?”

Max watches me for another moment, then lets out a breath. “Tyler’s fun. Charismatic. I’ll give him that!

“But I prompt

1/3

Chapter 123: Asher

That coms a twitch of my mouth. “Get specifica?”

“Not all firsthand.” Max anys, “that the team talks. He gets gids to ignore their boyfriends, then ghosts themes to prople, Pich lights t He’s got this superiority thing. You can tell he thinks he’s better than the rest of us.

My jaw tick

“But honestis,” Max continues, “that’s not even what bollires me. It’s Penny. She seems like a goal person. Kind And I just don’t think has being honest with her.”

1 narrow my eyes. “About what?”

Max hesitates, Rosa hand through his hair. “I didn’t see it myself, but a couple of guja the team sweat they’ve seen him hanging around with this glat, and they say it’s… more–than–friendly.”

My fingers curl slightly around my mug.

“Is said girl here?” I ask

He shakes his head. “I’m not answering that. Just figured you’d wanna know”

I give him a nod. “Thunks ”

Max stands, then says over his shoulder, “I like Penner

So do I.

But it’s probably too late.

Penny hope she doesn’t get burned.”

I sit there for a few more seconds, tracking the way Penny’s moving across the room, laughing now at something a girl next to her said. Tyler’s next to her. He’s doing his thing–charming, arms loose around his friends, making everyone look at him like he’s the center of the goddamn universe.

And for the first time, I feel something colder than anger towards him.

Disappointment

“yo!” someone yells, jumping onto one of the benches near the fireplace. “There’s a little winter market like fiteen minutes from here. Open–air, all enzy and old–school. We should go before it starts snowing again.”

People cheer. A few shout “Yes!” and “I need hot chocolate?

I glance at Penny just as she tums toward me–eye catching mine like she was waiting for the right moment

“Omgget,” she says, breathless with enthusiasm, and jogs the last few steps to close the distance between us. Her feet make little sounds on the hardwood sweater sleeves pulled over her hands, cheeks slightly pink from the jog or from something else. “All your favorite things. Tiny glittery snowflakes. Hot chocolate. Dainty overpriced snow globes. Quaint seasonal shops. Minimal shelter from frostbite, ist perfect for you.”

She latches onto my arm with both hands, her fingers curling over my shirt sleeve like she’s trying to physically anchor me in place.

Tarch a brow at her, but I don’t move. “Keep going

Her eyes dance. “What, not sold

“Not quite.”

“Oh. Okay.” She straighter, suddenly busineslike. “Add in Пutes playing carols off key. Tourists asking for direction in the woods. Hand–knitted mittens no one needs. And probably some small–town grandna force–feeding you a gingerbread cookie the size of your head.”

HUM

at her.

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