Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother Chapter 139

It must’ve been an hour. Maybe a little more.

The fire’s burned down to embers, the crackling now more of a low hiss as the wood settles. I’ve gotten used to the flicker of warm light playing against my closed eyelids, the smell of aged paper and leather, the steady rhythm of my own breaths.

It’s almost... peaceful.

Which is a rare thing for me.

I’ve gone half-numb from the stillness, body heavy, tension slowly seeping from my shoulders and spine. The world outside this room is a muffled mix of laughter, quick footsteps, and the occasional scream when someone scares someone else. But here? It’s quiet. Private.

Then, the door creaks open.

I crack one eye open, reflexive, and find a small figure in the doorway, her hair slightly messy, cheeks pink, a grin spreading slowly over her lips.

Penny.

“Decided to visit the dead?” I murmur, my own mouth lifting into a smirk before I can stop it.

Her eyes sparkle, and she steps inside, closing the door quietly behind her. She creeps closer like she’s actually approaching a corpse at a funeral, eyes narrowed, lips twitching with poorly contained mischief.

“What are you doing?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

She stops a few feet away, clasps her hands in front of her, and leans forward, whispering, “My dark side just had to see the dead body.”

I huff a small laugh, shaking my head, then crook a finger at her. “Come here.”

She steps closer, and when she’s within reach, I grip her waist and tug her down beside me. She lets out a small, surprised giggle, flushing a pretty shade of pink as I swing her legs up over mine, resting her calves across my thighs.

“Comfortable?” I murmur.

Her eyes dart to my hands, still loosely wrapped around her legs. She swallows, then meets my eyes again. “Mm-hmm.”

I let my thumb brush over her shin, the thin fabric of her leggings warm from her body heat. It’s an unconscious motion, one I can’t seem to control when she’s this close. Her skin, her scent, the little shivers I sometimes catch when I touch her. It’s a quiet addiction I’m letting myself indulge in more and more.

“So,” I say, leaning back and pretending like my pulse isn’t pounding in my throat, “what’s your character been up to while I’ve been, you know, dead?”

She brightens, eyes lighting up like I just told her I bought her a puppy.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, leaning in, her shoulder brushing mine, “where do I start? The ex-football player is very flirty. Max’s character? A little scary. He even had to stop mid-sentence because I think I was actually starting to believe him.” She giggles, her nose scrunching a bit.

“Mm,” I hum, eyes fixed on her lips for a split second before I force myself to look away. “You’re not a very good liar, so I’m not surprised.”

“Hey!” she smacks my shoulder lightly. “I am too a good liar.”

I chuckle. “You’re too sweet. You’d crack under pressure.”

She crosses her arms, pouting a little. “I can be very deceptive when I want to be.”

I just raise an eyebrow, my thumb still tracing slow, lazy circles on her leg. “Sure you can, princess.”

She rolls her eyes, then continues, “Oh, and Rebecca? She got ganged up on by two people who were convinced it was her, and she actually got mad for real.”

I snort. “Of course she did.”

“And Tyler cornered Zoe and told her he thinks it’s her,” she adds, leaning back against the couch, eyes dancing. “He got really intense about it too. I think he even chased her and all.”

“Maybe he’s projecting,” I mutter under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She narrows her eyes at me, suspicious, but then shakes it off. “Oh! And some guy screamed like a little girl when Jenny bumped into them in the kitchen.” She giggles again, her body leaning closer, her shoulder pressing into my chest. “He actually jumped back so fast he hit his head on the cabinet.”

I huff another laugh. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“Am not.” She leans back a bit, tilting her head to look up at me, her nose inches from my jaw. Her eyes flicker over my face, a little crease appearing between her brows.

I meet her gaze. “What?”

“Even when you’re dead,” she whispers, her lips barely moving, “you’re a furnace.”

I cock my head. “Why do you call me that?”

Her lashes flutter, caught off guard. “What?”

“You’ve been calling me that since the week we met. Furnace. Why?”

“Oh.” She blushes deeper, the red creeping down her neck. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lower lip for half a second before releasing it. “Because... I don’t know. You radiate heat. Like, your body is always so warm. Like you’ve got a permanent fever.”

I raise an eyebrow, leaning in a little. “Mm.”

She hesitates, then adds, even softer, “It’s... nice.”

I hear it. The slight tremble. The whisper of something unspoken in her tone.

But before I can push, before I can tease her further, the door creaks open again, and Jenny sticks her head inside, her curly brown hair bouncing around her face. “Hey, time for the verdict! Get your dead butt off that couch, Hayes.”

Penny jumps a little, pulling her legs off my lap and sitting up straight like we just got caught making out in the backseat of a car.

I exhale slowly, pushing down the sudden surge of annoyance at being interrupted.

“Alright,” I mutter, giving Jenny a small nod.

Penny catches my eye, her cheeks still flushed, and I let my hand brush her lower back as we get up, guiding her to the door.

The game’s over, but I’m starting to think I’m playing a much more dangerous one with her.