Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 229

brother

Chapter 229: Penny

I wake to stillness.

For a second, I forget where I ant. The unfamiliar ceiling, the way the sunlight filters in around the curtains in soft gray streaks. Then it hits me like a brick to the chest.

Boomer’s bed.

Not Asher’s.

The ache in my ribs isn’t from injury–it’s from absence.

I’m still wearing the same clothes from last night. Tights under joggers, light sweater clinging to my skin where the fear sweat never really left. I peat the covers back and step out into the quiet.

The hallway is dim. Smells like clean linen and something faintly citrusy. And when I reach the end of it, I find Boomer knocked out on the couch.

My breath catches.

He’s curled sideways, arm slung over his chest, lips slightly parted in sleep. There’s a blanket twisted beneath him, but he hasn’t used it. His face is softer than I’ve ever seen it. Young. Like Tyler’s. Like me.

And suddenly I remember what he

told

me when I was crying into his hoodie: You’re safe here.

He meant it. He made sure of it.

Boomer is a SEAL. His body carries it–how he moves, how he scans a room like he’s memorizing every threat. But when he’s asleep, he doesn’t look like a soldier. He looks like a boy with too ch responsibility. And somehow, despite everything, that makes my chest hurt more than anything else.

I try to back away quietly so I don’t wake him, but then-

His fingers wrap around

my wrist.

I jolt.

“Sorry,” he says, voice gravelly with sleep. A crooked, sheepish smile plays on his lips as he slowly sits up. “Didn’t mean to freak

I exhale, heart settling. “It’s okay.”

We sit there for a beat, the silence between us warm, heavy.

you out.”

He hasn’t changed clothes either. Same dark tee from last night, navy joggers slung low on his hips. His hair is a mess and somehow still perfect. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, then reaches beside the couch and pulls out a black duffel bag.

“Asher dropped this off early this morning.”

My heart leaps, stupid and hopeful.

“He was here?” I ask before I can stop myself,

Boomer shakes his head. “No. Just texted me to say it’d be at the door. Never came in.”

Of course not.

My chest tightens. A sharp little spike of disappointment digging under my ribs.

Boomer sees it. “Hey,” he says, voice softer now. He reaches out and gently brushes hair off my face. The gesture is so tender, so grounding, I almost cry all over again. “Come on.”

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Chapter 229: Penny

He leads me down the hall, barefoot and quiet, and opens the door to the bathroom. It’s already warm in here. It more ord in the heat earl something, because steam curls near the ceiling. He sets the bag on the counter, turns the water on hot, and checks it with his hand.

“There,” he says. “Take your time.”

I nod.

He pauses, like he wants to say more, but instead he just offers a small smile and closes the door behind him.

1 lock it, not because I need to—but because I feel like I might fall apart if I don’t keep something closed.

The mirror’s already fogged ove

Probably for the best. I don’t think I could stomach seeing myself right now.

I unzip the bag.

Inside are folded clothes, a towel, and shampoo and body wash

Asher’s.

-both

not mine. The labels are all masculine, Woodsy. Familiar.

My stomach flips.

Tucked beside the towel is a small piece of folded paper. His handwriting.

Princess,

I know keeping you in the dark makes me a monster. I hope you know it’s the last thing I want.

Well–after having you so far from me.

But I’d rather you be upset with me than in danger for one second longer.

I hope you know I love you.

And I hope when this is all over, you come back to me.

My vision blurs instantly.

I sit down on the edge of the tub, letting the paper shake between my fingers. I want to be furious. I am furious. But I’m also torn right down the middle.

Of course I want to go back to him.

But how do you go back to someone who won’t give you the truth?

I’m about to fold the letter when I catch writing on the back.

P.S. There’s no way I’m sending you to another man’s house with your own soap. You smell too damn divine for your own good.

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