Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother Chapter 47

The second we step through the door, Penny lets out a dramatic groan that echoes down the hallway, throwing her arms up like the universe personally offended her.

"This stupid storm is trying to kill us even now that it’s over," she mutters, glaring at the half-soaked doormat like it did something to her.

Tyler laughs — a loud, easy laugh that bounces off the walls — and she whirls on him, narrowing her eyes.

"I swear, Hayes," she says, pointing a finger at him like it’s a loaded weapon. "One more laugh and I’ll make you regret it."

He only laughs harder, ducking away as she huffs and shoves at his arm.

For a second — just a second — I almost smile.

Almost.

But it sticks in my throat, because underneath it all, I'm still pissed.

Pissed at the storm.

Pissed at Tyler.

Pissed at myself.

We spread out, checking the house for any signs of damage.

Tyler goes upstairs.

Penny heads toward the back door, peeking through windows.

I stay in the main rooms, scanning ceilings and floors, looking for water leaks, shattered glass, anything dangerous.

Everything seems fine.

Miraculously untouched.

When we step outside onto the back patio, it’s a mess —

chairs overturned, the umbrella half-collapsed, cushions soaked and scattered.

But nothing's broken.

Penny claps her hands together once, a bright sound cutting through the dreary morning.

"Okay," she says, beaming. "Could’ve been way worse."

She turns to us, face still flushed from the cold, her smile a little crooked, and announces, "I'm gonna go change into some non-giant clothes and call my parents to let them know I survived."

She disappears up the stairs, her footsteps light but quick.

I stay frozen in place for a second, watching the empty staircase like an idiot.

Third time in this house —

first time seeing it properly in the daylight.

And now that I can, it feels... different.

More personal.

Little pieces of her are scattered everywhere —

a bright blue hair clip abandoned on the coffee table, ballet shoes kicked off under a chair, a soft gray cardigan draped over the arm of the couch like she might come back for it any second.

The house smells like vanilla and something faintly floral.

It smells like her.

It feels like her.

Warm, alive, untidy in a way that makes it real.

I don’t realize I’m smiling — barely, but still — until Tyler drops onto the couch with a heavy sigh, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.

"Man," he says, stretching his arms behind his head, "what a crazy freaking night."

I lower myself onto the opposite end of the couch, muscles still tense from the branch incident earlier.

I glance sideways at him, my voice low.

"Where were you really last night?"

Tyler’s grin falters just a second — just enough for me to notice.

But he shrugs it off fast, too fast.

"Told you," he says, too casually. "Jonathan’s place. Watched the game, crashed when the storm got bad."

I stare at him, reading between the lines, but in the end —

I let it go.

Not because I believe him.

But because it’s not my fight to pick.

Not yet.

He drums his fingers on the armrest, restless, jittery.

Then his whole body jolts upright like he just had the best idea in human history.

When Penny comes bounding back down the stairs, phone pressed to her ear, finishing a quick conversation with her parents, he’s practically vibrating with excitement.

She hangs up and tucks the phone into her back pocket, smiling.

And I forget how to breathe for a second.

She’s changed — gone is the oversized shirt and borrowed pants, replaced with a tight blue long-sleeve that hugs every line of her body like a second skin, and a pair of jeans that do worse damage to my brain than I’m willing to admit.

Her hair’s tied up in a messy bun, but loose curls fall free, framing her face, clinging to her cheeks and neck in soft, wild waves.

She’s...

hell.

She’s beautiful.

Breathtaking.

Dangerous to my sanity.

Tyler is the first to move, spinning her in a stupid little dance that makes her laugh and swat at him.

"I had the best idea!" he announces, grinning at both of us like he just solved world hunger.

"We should stay here with you until your parents get back."

Both Penny and I open our mouths at the same time.

"Not the best idea—" she starts.

"Yeah, no—" I say, almost overlapping her.

But Tyler barrels over both of us, waving a hand like he’s dismissing toddlers.

"No, no, listen — it’s perfect. You won’t be alone, Ash can cook, and hey — what’s safer than having two Hayes brothers as your personal bodyguards?"

I snort under my breath before I can stop myself.

*She'll be safe with me, not you.*

But I don't say it out loud.

Penny stares at him, flustered, clearly trying to think of a reason to say no without sounding ungrateful.

Tyler doesn’t give her the chance.

"We’ll ask Mom and Dad at dinner tonight," he says, already half-way to the kitchen.

"Now, seriously, you got any food? I’m starving."

He disappears with a crash and a bang into the pantry, humming to himself.

Penny stands frozen at the bottom of the stairs, wide-eyed, helpless.

I catch her gaze across the living room.

She looks like she just got hit by a very cheerful, very dumb truck.

I shrug one shoulder, the corner of my mouth twitching.

What can you do?

It’s Tyler.

The worst part is —

I know I’m not strong enough to say no either.

Not when it means staying close a little longer.