Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Asher

The smile barely lasts two blocks.

i try-

d, I really try-

God,

To hold onto it, to let myself just laugh at the insanity of tonight, at the way she shoved her tiny fists into my chest like it would even move me, at the way she screamed at me with tears on her face and fury in her voice like she thought she could burn me down with nothing but her

This girl.

This fucking girl.

Perfect on the outside, all delicate edges and soft curves and golden hair and a voice like broken glass and honey, but inside-

Inside she’s fire and stubbornness and cracked porcelain held together by sheer will.

Her face flashes in my head again, uninvited, unwelcome.

Her wide green eyes, glassy with tears she wouldn’t let fall until she couldn’t stop them anymore.

Her flushed cheeks, streaked from wiping at them too hard with the back of her sleeve.

Her mouth-

trembling into a sad little pout or pressed into a tight line trying to hold the sobs back.

Coming loose, strands falling out if that tight than she always seems to have nailed to the back of her head, fraying around her face like she fought the whole damn world and barely made it out.

Ivrivit.

She’s perfect in a way that pisses me off.

When people draw angels in art class, when they think about perfection and fragility and something ton good for the world-

They’re thinking about girls like her.

And I hate her for it.

Because every time I’ve touched her–and it’s only been three times, but somehow it feels like more–it felt like I might break her.

Like she’s made of blown glass, impossibly beautiful and impossibly easy to destroy.

And it makes me furious.

Because I know better.

I know ballerinas are tough as hell.

1/5

Chapter 20: Asher

I know their muscles are engineered for endurance and pain and artistry all at once.

I know they hold themselves together though inkary, through pressure, though pain that would make grown men cry.

But under my hands-

She felt weightless

Small.

Like nothing.

When she threw herself at me tonight, pounding her fists against my chest, it didn’t inen register as a hit.

It registered as a warning.

As a scream from some part of her that no one’s ever listened to properly.

And it made me angry.

Angry that she’s so breakable.

Angry that she still fights so hard.

Angry that caring about any of it feels like stepping onto a battlefield I never signed up for.

I grit my teeth and pick up my pace.

Tomorrow, I tell myself.

Tomorrow, I’ll go back to not giving a fuck.

Tonight-

re’s still one thing left to do.

Tonight there’s

I reach the house, push–open the door, and step Inside.

The TV is on.

Tyler’s sprawled on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through his phone, one socked foot kicked up on the armrest like he’s the fucking king of the world.

The sight of him lounging there-

Oblivious, careless, content-

Something inside me snaps.

Before I can think about it, before I can even slow down, I’m across the room.

1 slap the phone clean out of his hand.

It skitters across the hardwood flour, clattering Under the coffee table.

“What the hell, man?! Tyler shouts, jumping up, his face red with shock and rage.

“Asher!” my mom gasps from the kitchen doorway.

My dad straightens, his mouth opening in confusion.

“Relax,” he says, raising his hands like that’s supposed to fix it,

I turn on them, the fury spilling out like wildfire now, too hot, too fast to contain

“Relax?” I bark, sharp and ugly. “Do you even know what your son did tonight? Or more importantly–what he didn’t do?”

They blink, confused.

I swing back toward Tyler, crowding him back into the couch without touching him, just with the sheer force of it.

“Did you know Penny was stranded tonight?” I demand. “On the other side of the goddamn city? No huses. No rides. No way home.”

Tyler frowns, slow, like he’s trying to piece it together but can’t quite be bothered.

“She tried to call you,” I snap. “Tried to call the house. Tried everything.”

I jab a

finger toward him, the urge to grab him by the collar barely contained.

“She was about to walk home. Alone. In the dark.”

⠀⠀⠀There’s a beat of silence.

Then Tyler shrugs.

Shrugs.

My vision goes hot and red around the edges.

“I didn’t know when she’d be done,” he mutters. She didn’t text.”

“You didn’t know?” I echo, incredulous, “So you just left her to figure it out herself?”

“It’s none of your business,” he says, stepping into my space now, chin lifted, like he actually thinks he can win a fight he started by being a careless little shit.

I lean in, my voice dropping-

“You’re right,” I say. “It’s not. But if you’re gonna be an irresponsible asshole, maybe at least give a shit long enough to make sure your girlfriend doesn’t get herself killed.”

“Asher,” my mom says again, firmer, stepping between us.

She turns to Tyler, her face pale.

“Is it true?” she asks.

Tyler shifts, uncomfortable now.

“I didn’t know when she’d be done,” he says. “I figured she’d call.”

“You figured,” I say, laughing under my breath. “Great plan.”

Chapter 20: Asher

My dad scrubs a hand over his face.

“We had this conversation this morning, Ty,” he

I was busy,” Tyler says defensively. She’s fine, right?

I inhale sharply through my nose, fighting for control.

“She’s fine because I went and found her,” I say, my voice cutting through the room like

Tyler’s face brightens.

He claps me on the back like we’re in some buddy–cop movie and says, “Thanks, fim. I owe you one.

I shrug him off

His casual relief tastes like acid in my mouth.

He turns to our parents, trying to smooth it over.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify