Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother Chapter 39

The storm was already bad when I stepped outside of my house a few minutes ago.

I just didn’t realize how much worse it got until we were actually moving down the sidewalk.

Or trying to.

The rain doesn’t fall so much as it slices — cold, hard sheets that feel like tiny knives dragging across any skin stupid enough to be exposed.

The wind hits hard, relentless, shoving against me like it’s trying to knock me off balance.

If it’s tough for me —

six feet and a few inches tall, trained for worse, body braced against the elements —

I can only imagine what it’s doing to her.

I turn to check.

And there she is —

Penny, small and soaked, struggling to move forward.

The wind shoves her sideways, and she stumbles, nearly losing her footing.

Her hoodie’s plastered to her body, her legs barely making any progress against the invisible wall pushing back at her.

She’s fighting like hell, but it’s clear she’s losing.

I double back, my boots slapping against the flooded sidewalk, and grab her forearm firmly.

Her hoodie is freezing cold under my hand.

I step in closer, sliding my other hand to the small of her back, steadying her, shielding her body with mine against the worst of the rain and wind.

"Come on," I say, low and rough, bending toward her ear so she can hear me over the storm.

She nods, teeth chattering too hard to speak, and leans into my touch without hesitation.

We move together now, her half-sheltered by my body, her pace faster but still shaky.

Her clothes are soaked straight through — leggings clinging to her legs like a second skin, hoodie dark with water, hair dripping around her face in wet strands.

I tighten my hold on her instinctively.

Her lips are starting to lose color.

It’s not just cold —

it’s dangerous now.

I pick up the pace, practically dragging her the last block.

No way in hell I would’ve left her back there alone.

No way.

We reach the house and I shove the door open with my shoulder, pulling her inside after me, the wind trying to yank the door back out of my hands.

The second we’re in, warmth slaps against us — and so do my parents.

"Oh my God," Mom gasps, rushing forward. "Look at you!"

Dad’s right behind her, eyes wide.

"Penny, sweetheart, are you okay?"

They both hover, hands reaching out but not quite touching, like they don’t know where to start.

Now, with the overhead lights bright and steady, I get my first real look at her.

And it hits harder than it should.

She’s shivering violently, water pooling at her feet, hair hanging in dark ropes down her back and shoulders.

Without the tight bun she always wears, her hair looks so much longer.

Her face is pale, almost translucent under the harsh lights, and her lips are definitely blue now.

And — there. Across her left cheek, a thin scratch, bright and angry against the frozen whiteness of her skin.

"What happened?" Mom asks, voice high and worried.

Penny blinks at her, dazed, then lifts a hand to her cheek like she only just remembered it.

"I— I think..."

She frowns, trying to piece it together.

"I think something flew into me. Like a branch, maybe."

Dad swears under his breath, already moving toward the kitchen, probably looking for first aid stuff.

I step forward slightly, positioning myself between her and the door without even thinking.

"Her house is completely blacked out," I say, voice clipped. "No generator. No heat. She couldn’t stay there."

Mom nods quickly, hands fluttering near Penny’s elbows like she wants to wrap her in a blanket made of pure mom energy.

"You absolutely did the right thing," she says. "Thank you, Ash."

Dad reappears with a towel, tossing it over Penny’s shoulders carefully.

"You need to get warm, sweetheart," Mom says gently. "Go upstairs, take a hot shower."

"And tea," Dad adds, already filling the kettle. "We’ll make you some."

Penny looks between them, overwhelmed and still shivering too hard to argue.

Mom turns to me.

"You too," she says firmly, pointing at me like she’s scolding a stray dog. "You’re soaked to the bone."

I nod once, water dripping from my hair onto the hardwood floor.

Penny hugs the towel tighter around herself and starts toward the stairs.

I follow a few steps behind, just to make sure she doesn’t stumble or collapse halfway there.

The house creaks under the assault of the storm, but inside it’s warm, safe.

She reaches the landing and heads toward the bathroom at the end of the hall, pushing the door open.

Then she stops, turning halfway around.

"I, uh..."

She bites her lip, cheeks flushed from cold.

"I don’t have any clothes."

For a second, she just stands there, dripping and shivering, towel clutched tight.

"I’ll just grab some from Tyler’s room," she says quickly, stepping back toward his door.

I shake my head, already seeing the disaster waiting behind it.

"Not the best idea."

She frowns at me but pushes the door open anyway.

I lean casually against the wall, arms crossed, waiting for it.

The door swings wide.

And she freezes.

Clothes are everywhere.

A battlefield of jeans, socks, hoodies, and what might be a half-eaten sandwich lying forgotten on the desk.

She doesn’t say anything for a long second.

Just stares like she’s trying to calculate whether it's physically possible to find a clean item in that disaster zone.

I smirk — just a little.

"Come on," I say, pushing off the wall.

She shuts the door with a wrinkled nose and follows me down the hall.

I lead her to my room — cleaner, sharper, no mess except the rain-soaked hoodie I peeled off earlier thrown over the back of a chair.

I open the top drawer of my dresser and pull out a plain black t-shirt and a pair of gray jogging pants, tossing them toward her.

She catches them awkwardly, holding the bundle against her chest.

"Thanks," she says, voice soft.

I just nod.

She hurries back toward the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her.