Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 57

Chapter 57: Penny

I don’t know what it is about iced coffee, but somehow it tastes better when the sun’s on your skin and you’re sitting on a bench pretending you’re not low- key exhausted by life. I swirl the straw around the bottom of the cup, trying to get the last bit of syrup to mix in.

My first class went surprisingly okay. We had a pop quiz, and while I’ll never understand why I need to know how to find the rate of change of some fictional man’s car speed going up a hill while also calculating the temperature of the tires–I did okay. So that’s something. Gold star for surviving.

I scroll on my phone, half–distracted by an article titled “10 Things You’re Definitely Doing Wrong in Life“, which feels both specific and also directly aimed at me. I’m about to click when the bench dips on either side of me.

I glance up, and my stomach drops.

Rebecca.

Zoe.

One on each side.

Oh god. Oh no. What fresh nightmare is this?

I keep my expression carefully blank, but inside, I’m sprinting through worst–case scenarios. Is this where they spill my drink on me? Put gum in my hair? Toss a passive–aggressive compliment and then walk off with a synchronized hair flip?

Because I’m not exactly in the mood for that kind of emotional cardio today.

But I take a slow sip and raise an eyebrow instead.

“Can I help you?”

They exchange a glance, all performative smiles and sparkly lip gloss. Rebecca leans in just enough to make me instinctively tense.

“We just wanted to talk,” she says.

Zoe nods. “Yeah. We’ve been thinking… maybe we’ve been a little too much.”

“That’s one word for it,” I mutter, but they ignore me.

Rebecca goes on, “We love to joke around, you know? It’s just our thing. But we realize now that maybe our humor doesn’t always come across the right

way.”

Zoe adds, “We never meant to make you feel small or anything.”

Right. Because nothing says genuine apology like a fake tag–team ambush with matching dewy skin and perfectly curled lashes.

I stare at them, trying to figure out what the angle is. There’s always an angle.

“Uh–huh,” I say, slow and skeptical. “And this sudden burst of self–awareness came from…?”

They laugh like I just delivered the punchline of a late–night comedy set. Rebecca flips her hair. Zoe leans back like we’re all besties now.

And then I see it.

Why they’re here. Why they’re pretending.

Tyler.

He’s walking toward us down the sidewalk, chatting with a few guys from his team, casual and happy and completely unaware, His eyes light up the second he sees ús, and he jogs the rest of the way over.

13

Chapter 57: Penny

“Heyyy, what’s happening here?” he grins. “Are all my girls getting along?”

My girls.

It hits me like a slap in the face wrapped in a compliment.

Rebecca and Zoe spring up like they’ve been waiting for their cue.

“We were just explaining to Penelope,” Rebecca says sweetly, “that our humor is kind of hard to understand sometimes. But we never meant anything bad.”

“Yeah,” Zoe adds, looping her arm through his like she’s the supportive cousin in a romcom. “Just a big misunderstanding.”

He laughs. “You guys are the best.” Then he turns to me, takes my hand like nothing’s weird, and says, “Come on, babe. Walk with me.”

I glance back once.

Rebecca and Zoe are grinning, smug as cats who just licked up the cream. They exchange a high–five behind Tyler’s back.

Of course they do.

As we walk, I try to shake it off. But it sticks like gum to a ballet slipper.

“Ty,” I say, squeezing his hand. “They weren’t really saying that.”

He glances down at me. “What do you mean?”

“They said those words, sure. But they don’t mean them.”

He frowns. “Penny…”

“I’m serious. They’re only acting like that because you showed up.”

Now he’s actually stopping. We’re standing on the path outside the building, just the two of us and the growing tension.

“Come on,” he says. “First, you say you want them to be nice. Now they are. You said they should apologize. They just did. You wanted them to make an effort, and they’re literally making one.”

I blink. “You really think that was real?”

He throws up his hands. “I think maybe you’re not giving them a chance.”

I open my mouth. Close it again.

“I’m just tired of hearing you complain about my friends all the time,” he mutters, “They’re not perfect, but they’re not monsters.”

The words hit harder than I expect.

I stand there, rooted, while he leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead. But then he steps away.

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