Falling for my boyfriend’s Navy brother
Chapter 37: Asher
The hot water runs over my shoulders, sluicing down my hack and taking most of the mud and grime from the day with it.
There’s something about physical work that makes sense in a way almost nothing else does.
The roof patch nerded fixing before the nest heavy storm wrecked it.
The fence was leaning like it was trying to make a break for It.
Minor things, but my parents couldn’t handle climbing ladders or digging of rotten posts anymore.
When the rain finally came in the afternoon, I took the hint and come inside.
Now I dry off change into sweats, and start chopping vegetables at the counter while the wind rattled the window frames.
Carrots, onions, celery – just to make it easier later when my parents decide to make dinner.
I work quietly, knife flashing, the cutting board filling up with neat piles
Until I hear the bag crinkle.
Tyler drops onto the
stool
from me
at the island, a bag of chips in one hand, the other already shoving a handful into his mouth.
“You want some?” he asks around a mouthful.
I glance at the
e greasy mess of artificial cheese dust and salt and shake my head.
He shrugs, like it’s my loss, and keeps eating.
“You don’t eat chips?” he asks after a minute, genuinely curious.
“No,” I say shortly.
He leans back, cranching loudly
“Is it, like, a Navy thing?” he asks, gesturing vaguely with a chip.
I scrape diced onions into a bowl.
“It’s a staying–alive thing.”
He laughs, like he thinks I’m joking.
I don’t bother correcting hin
He crunches another chip, watching
“So, seriously,” he says after a moment, “how hard is it? The Navy, I mean,”
I pause, chaning the knife.
He’s not asking to be noty. He’s asking because he genuinely doesn’t know..
Because the last time he saw me, he was sixteen, and I was already halfway out the door.
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Chapter 37: Asher
I rinse the blade and answer without looking up.
‘Harder than you think. Easier than it could
He sports. That’s not an answer.
It’s the only one you’re getting
He throws a chip at me. It bounces off my arm and hits the floor.
“You’re so annoying,” he says, laughing.
“Better than being stupid,” I mutter.
He laughs harder and grabs another handful of chips.
The house creaks around us, the wind howling las
low and steady outside.
The storm’s getting worse.
Not dangerous yet,
but close.
Tyler’s phone buzzes on the counter. He checks it, grinning.
wh
he says, answering. “Nah, nothing. Just hanging out.”
He laughs at whatever the other guy says.
“Oh really? I’m so down. Yeah, I’m coming”
He hangs up and grabs his jacket from the chair.
Tell Mom and Dad I’m heading out,” he says, shoving his arms into the sleeves. “Shouldn’t be long.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“The storm’s getting bad.”
He waves it off
“It’s, like, a ten–minute drive. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re an idiot,” I say flatly.
He just grins and slaps the counter twice.
“Love you too, big bro
And then he’s gone, the door slamming shut behind him, the wind immediately howling louder in the sudden absence.
I finish tidying up the counter, dumping vegetable scraps
s into the trash, wiping down surfaces until they shine.
After a few minutes, I start making grounds through the house,
Checking windows.
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Chapter 37: Asher
When I get to the front room, I find a couple windows cracked open–probably from when my mum tried to air out the house earlier.
I love them and latch them feeling the immediate difference as the cold edge of the storm is sealed out.
By the time I circle back to the kitchen, the house smells like something good
onions and garlic sautéing, fresh hood warming in the orn
My mom’s standing at the stove now, stirring a pot with her back to me. My dad stands next to her slicing bread.
They both glance up when I walk in.
“Hey, honey,” my mom says warmly. “Everything good?”
I nod, sliding onto a stool at the island.
Bad finishes arranging the bread and starts setting the table,
“Where’s your brother? Mom asks, glancing around.
“He got a call and headed out. Said it’s close by.”
Sho
the frowns slightly but doesn’t argue
Boys will be boys or whatever dumb phrase people use to excuse Idiocy.
So, Dad says, pouring three glasses of water, “how’s it feel being home?
I roll my shoulders, considering how honest to be
“Different,” I say finally
Be nods like he understands and maybe he does, in a way,
He left home young too. Dillerent reasons, different generation, but still
atehere. Well,” Mom says, turning off the stove and carrying the pot to the table, we’re glad you
We sit down around the kitchen table–plates full, the storm rumbling steadily outside like some giant clearing his throat.
o my mom says, clearly trying to sound casual, how long are you thinking of staying?”
I shrug. “Don’t know yet”
“Good,” she says immediately. “You need time to just be here.”
Dad points at me with his fork. “You need to relax. No orders, no drills, no alurms.”
“Just chores,” I mutter.
“Chores build character.” Dad says, dead serious
I short into my bread.
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Chapter 37: Asher
Mom shakes her head fondly, “hovore your father. We’re just happy to have you home.”
We
into an easy rhythm of eating for a few minutes – the clink of forks, the hum of the storm outside filling the spares between
conversation,
Then Dad sets his glass doses and says, “Oh–invited Penny for dinner tomorrow,”
I glance up, raising an eyebrow.
“Figured she shouldn’t be stuck eating frozen dinners alone during this mess,” he adds.
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