Falling for my boyfriend’s Navy brother
Chapter 172: Penny
It started with a rumble.
Not thunder. Not some new incoming drama.
Just… my stomach.
“I think I’m starving,” I said softly from the passenger seat, curled under Asher’s hoodie like it was a weighted blanket. My legs were folded beneath me, my hair a mess, my body still half–asleep. I slept for the whole first half of the trip and felt bad for doing so but, when I woke up, Max and Asher were in the middle of a conversation about football and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of those two getting along.
Max immediately leaned forward from the back seat. “There’s a place,” he said with reverence, like he was about to lead us to salvation. “Best burgers in the city. Maybe the country.”
I perked up. “I could eat a whole cow.”
Asher raised an eyebrow, eyes still on the road. “You’ll survive twenty more minutes. We’re almost home.”
Max groaned. “You wound me, Hayes. Don’t deny the girl her burger salvation.”
“Yeah, Asher.” I poked his shoulder, dragging the last syllable of his name like a stubborn child. “Don’t you care that I’m wasting away? On the verge of starving to death?”
He gave me the tiniest side glance, smirk barely forming. “You look fine.”
“She said starving, not fine,” Max pointed out.
Asher sighed, long–suffering. “It’s junk food.”
“It’s joy,” Max corrected.
“And I’m hungry,” I added, clutching my stomach dramatically.
Asher shook his head. “You two are insufferable.”
–
“Max,” I whispered dramatically, “I think he’s broken. He doesn’t believe in burgers.”
“Or joy.”
“Or fun.”
“That’s just… wrong,” Max said. “We should run.”
Asher didn’t say anything.
1/4
Chapter 172: Penny
But then he took the next exit.
Max and I looked at each other like we just won the lottery. “YEAH!” we shouted in unison, both of us slapping the ceiling of the car.
“Children,” Asher muttered under his breath, but his smirk said otherwise.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting in a squeaky red booth with a double cheeseburger the size of my head, hot crinkle fries dusted with something magical, parmesan cheese maybe? And a soda that fizzed up so perfectly I almost cried on the first sip.
“Oh my god,” I mumbled through a mouthful, eyes wide. “This is the best thing I’ve eaten in months.”
“I told you!” Max said, dipping his fry into a pool of ketchup like he was at a five–star restaurant. “They even put grilled onions on mine. Grilled onions. That’s love.”
Asher was across from us, eating slower, more precise. Like he didn’t fully trust the food not to betray him.
I nudged him. “What do you think?”
He chewed, swallowed. Tilted his head slightly.
“It’s decent.”
“DE-?” Max started choking on a fry.
I gasped. “It’s not decent, it’s transcendent. You’re eating art.”
Asher smirked. “Fine. It’s good.”
“Ha!” Max pointed. “He admits it!”
I popped another fry into my mouth and leaned back with a sigh. “When’s the last time you had junk food like this anyway?”
Asher didn’t answer right away. He actually had to think.
“I dunno,” he said finally. “Two years ago? Maybe more.”
Max and I both froze, jaws halfway to the floor.
“Two years?” Max shouted. “That’s/a crime against humanity.”
I nodded dramatically. “How are you alive?”
“I eat,” Asher defended. “Just not this.”
“Not joy,” I said.
2/4
Chapter 172: Penny
He rolled his eyes and stole one of my fries.
I stared at him.
Then reached across and took three from his tray. “Fry tax.”
His lips twitched. He shoved the rest of his tray toward me.
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