Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 215

Chapter 215: Asher

She’s sitting across from me, legs folded under her like she owns this place. Like she belongs in this room I tore apart and rebuilt just for tonight.

God, she does.

She belongs everywhere I am.

And I’m barely keeping it together.

Because this girl–this weird, beautiful, impossibly bright girl–is eating penne in my damn garage like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and I’m sitting here in a sweater that she said made me look, “too good to be legal,” watching her talk with sauce on her lip, and I swear-

She’s going to kill me one day.

Not with a bullet.

Not like the life I used to live.

She’ll just look at me with those wide eyes, and I’ll forget how to breathe.

“You’re staring,” she says, raising a brow, swirling pasta on her fork.

“You’re worth looking at.”

She blinks once. Then grins like I just gave her the moon.

She’s already had one glass of wine. Her cheeks are flushed. Her eyes shining,

And when she laughs–God, when she laughs–it’s like it echoes in the parts of me I forgot I had. The ones war tried to burn out.

“I still can’t believe you did all this,” she says, glancing around at the lights, the rugs, the heater humming in the corner like we’re camping in some kind of Pinterest fantasy.

I just shrug. “It’s not much.”

“It’s everything,” she whispers.

And I almost drop my fork.

We eat. We drink. We talk about everything–about Boomer accidentally putting diesel in a regular car when he first joined the base. About how her ballet instructor once called her “a passionate disaster” and she still took it as a compliment. About that first night she walked into the garage, how she thought I was going to scream at her for breathing near Tyler’s car.

“I did,” I say, smirking into my glass.

“No, you glared at me. Different crime.”

“You were annoying.”

“You were rude.”

I chuckle. She grins. Her foot brushes my ankle under the blankets and my whole body goes tight.

She has no idea what she does to me.

Every move she makes, every time she pushes her hair behind her ear or bites her bottom lip or sighs and leans back like she’s finally at peace–it guts me.

Because she’s so fucking beautiful.

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Chapter 215: Asher

And not just in the way her clothes clings to her of the way her collarbones catch the light. But in this this. The why shemales with free anyone. The way the forgets she’s drop dead goigemus and just is.

I thought she was beautiful that day in the garage.

But now that I know every inch of het body now that I’ve kissed down her spine and tasted every sound she makes and memorized how she I whisper her name

She’s not just beautiful.

She’s mine.

“Okay,” she says, lifting a finger with mock seriousness. “Since we’re here… I have a question.”

Oh no.

I know that tone.

“Jesus,” I mutter, smirking. “Already?”

“I haven’t asked you a ridiculous question in weeks, Asher. You’re overdue.”

I raise a brow. “Alright, hit me.”

She sits up straighter like she’s about to pitch me a business proposal.

“If you had to lose one of your five senses,” she says, “but you could replace it with any animal ability–what would it be?”

I stare at her.

And God help me, I love her.

She’s dead serious, eyes wide, chin tilted like this is life–or–death.

“I can’t believe I’m in love with you,” I say under my breath.

She beams.

“Okay,” I sigh, setting my glass down. “Fine. I’d lose… smell. And I’d replace it with echolocation. Like a bat.”

She gasps. “Ohhh my God, you’d be like Daredevil.”

“I am like Daredevil.”

She snorts into her wine.

“No, seriously,” I say, reaching across the table, pulling her hand to mine. “I’ve been trained to fight in pitch black. I once held my breath for three and a half minutes just to win a bet. Daredevil has nothing on me.”

“Okay,” she says, grinning. “But what would your superhero name be?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to pick one.”

I glance at her. At her flushed cheeks. At the way her lashes flutter every time she smiles.

And I say it quietly, only for her-

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Chapter 215: Asher

“Yours.”

Her breath catches.

I see it.

The way her fingers tighten in mine

The way her smile falters and turns into something soffer Like I just knocked the wind out of her.

This, I think.

This moment. This weirdo. This beautiful, chaotic, completely unpredictable girl who makes me want things I didn’t think I was allowed to want.

This is why I love her so much.

We sit there for a while longer, finishing our wine. She talks with

nds,

fork long forgotten, legs tucked under her like she’s on a cloud.

She asks me about the dumbest things – if I think ghosts wear

what clothes,

I’d name a pet goat, whether I’ve ever been in a helicopter with the doors of

I answer every one.

Because I’d answer anything if she’s the one asking.

And somewhere between her laugh and the last sip of wine, she gets on her knees and crawls to me.

Climbs into my lap like it’s instinct.

I kiss her. Slow. Hands firm around her waist. Her lips soft and sweet like cinnamon and something dangerous.

She kisses me back like she owns me.

And maybe she does..

When we pull apart, her forehead leans into mine. But there’s a little line between her brows now, and her bottom lip juts out just a bit.

I clock it immediately.

“Hey,” I murmur, cocking my head. “What’s wrong?”

She sighs, dramatic as ever.

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