Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother Chapter 135

The day drifts by in a lazy, comfortable haze. I’m wedged between two massive bodies on the couch—Tyler on my right, Asher on my left. It makes me feel even smaller than usual, like a little doll squished between two living mountains. Tyler’s maybe six feet tall, and Asher’s a solid 6'4" of muscle and shadow. Meanwhile, I’m barely 5'3" on a good day.

Asher has one arm draped across the back of the couch, his legs stretched out, boots crossed at the ankles, the fabric of his black cargo pants flexing over his thighs every time he shifts. His eyes are closed, head tilted back against the worn leather, but I know he’s not actually asleep. I can feel his muscles tense every time someone laughs a bit too loudly or walks too close. It’s like his body can’t help but react, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

Tyler, on the other hand, is fully unconscious beside me, his head tilted back, mouth slightly open. He’s snoring lightly now, the steady rise and fall of his chest a stark contrast to the silent, controlled breathing of the man on my left. At some point, he even turns his head, nuzzles his cheek against my shoulder, and mumbles something about “too much tequila” before his head lolls back.

I smile a bit at that. He’ll regret it later.

I’m almost lulled into a half-dream state myself when I see one of the guys from the football team creeping up behind Asher with a big smile, like he's about to scare him. I’m about to whisper a warning, but before I can, Asher’s hand shoots out, his fingers wrapping around the guy’s wrist without his eyes even opening.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Asher says, voice low and calm, the kind of calm that carries a quiet, unspoken promise of violence if ignored.

The guy freezes, his eyes wide. “Holy shit, dude, how did you even know I was there?”

Asher lets go, his hand dropping back to the couch like nothing happened. “You'll have to be much quieter than that if you want to spook me.”

The guy stumbles back, laughing nervously.

“Wait, wait,” someone else says, leaning forward from the armchair across from us. “Your eyes were *closed*. How the hell did you know he was there?”

Asher just smirks, eyes still closed. He doesn’t answer.

“Ohhh, that’s freaky,” one of the girls says, giggling. “I bet he can hear your heartbeat, Brad.”

“No way,” another guy cuts in. “It’s like he has a sixth sense or something. A spidey sense.”

Asher just shakes his head slightly, a faint smile playing at his lips.

“Alright, alright,” Max says from the other side of the room, grinning. “Since Asher’s basically a real-life superhero, let’s make this a thing. Talent show! Everyone show off your special skills.”

People start cheering, clapping, and even Tyler snorts awake beside me, blinking in confusion.

“What?” he mutters, rubbing his eyes.

“Talent show, bro,” someone shouts. “Show us what you got!”

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” I whisper, glancing at Asher. He raises one eyebrow, eyes still half-closed, like he’s both amused and mildly irritated at the same time.

Someone starts things off with a backflip in the middle of the living room, earning a round of applause. Another guy chugs an entire can of soda without pausing for breath. One of the girls touches her tongue to her nose, and someone else does a weird but impressive impression of a trumpet.

Zoe, who’s been quiet until now, steps into the center of the room, stretching her arms over her head. “Alright, alright,” she says, smirking. “I’ve got something.”

She drops into a full split, then leans forward, practically folding herself in half. A few guys whistle, and one of the girls claps, muttering, “Damn, I wish I was that flexible.”

Before I can even think of clapping, Max leans over the back of the couch, grinning down at me. “Pretty cool, but I’m pretty sure you do that while flying in the air, right, superstar?”

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. Zoe’s head snaps up, her eyes narrowing, and Asher’s lips twitch, like he’s holding back a full grin.

“I mean,” I say, feeling a small, wicked thrill as I shrug, “yes. But it's easy for me so I don't feel like I need to prove a point.”

A few people laugh, and I catch the tight line of Zoe’s jaw before she flicks her hair over her shoulder and saunters back to her seat.

Beside me, Asher leans in just slightly, his breath warm against my ear. “That was mean.”

I turn my head and find his dark eyes closer than I expected. “She’ll live,” I whisper back, grinning.

“He's a fucking loser,” Tyler mutters beside me, just loud enough for me to hear, but his eyes are still on his phone.

My smile slips for a second, but I force it back. Whatever. I’m not going to let him ruin my mood.

I glance at Asher again, and for a split second, I think I see something darker flicker in his gaze, his jaw tightening, but it’s gone so fast I wonder if I imagined it.

The makeshift talent show continues, someone doing a weird breakdance move, another guy lifting two girls on his shoulders, and someone else playing a song by tapping the tops of empty beer bottles like a little glass piano.