Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother Chapter 87

I’m curled on the couch, the rehearsal schedule open on my lap but completely unread. My fingers trace the same line for the tenth time—3:00 PM: Lead dancer rehearsal. Partner introduction. Physical dynamics assessment. My brain doesn’t register a word.

The front door clicks open.

I look up.

Tyler steps in and the smell hits before anything else—alcohol, stale sweat, maybe vomit still clinging to his jacket. He looks like death. Dark circles under his eyes, shirt rumpled, hair sticking up in every direction. His usual easy grin is gone.

He closes the door with a soft thud and looks at me, guilt already written across his face. “Penny…”

I don’t say anything at first. I just stare. My heart is hammering in my chest, a mix of dread and weariness.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” he starts, moving toward me. “I messed up. I know I did. I overdid it—”

“You think?” I cut in, sharper than I meant to be.

He winces and stops in front of me like a scolded child. “I just—I didn’t expect to drink that much. People kept handing me drinks and—”

“You promised,” I say, my voice low. “You promised me, Ty, that you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“I didn’t mean to!” He raises his hands. “It just got out of hand. I didn’t realize—”

“You were gone within the first half hour.” I sit up straighter. “You left me with people I barely know. You said we’d celebrate together. Together.”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything anymore,” I say, standing now. “I even played your stupid game. I tried. And you just kept drinking.”

He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “I know. I know I fucked up, Penny.”

“And the lap dance?”

He freezes.

I cross my arms. “You let Rebecca *grind* on you in front of everyone. Like I didn’t exist.”

“She had clothes on!” he protests weakly.

“*Barely*!” I shoot back.

From the staircase behind me, there’s a voice like steel. “What the hell? You let a girl give you a lap dance?”

I turn. Asher is halfway down the stairs, arms folded across his broad chest, jaw clenched so hard I can see the muscle ticking from here. He stops at the bottom step, eyes locked on Tyler.

“Thanks for bringing her home,” Tyler says awkwardly, shifting his weight.

Asher doesn’t reply. His stare is lethal.

“I wasn’t thinking. I—I didn’t know she left,” Tyler stammers.

“You didn’t know a guy tried to force himself on her outside,” he says quietly, looking at him.

His head snaps to me. “What?”

My wrist is still sore. I lift it slightly. “You were too drunk to notice *anything*.”

“I... I didn’t...” He steps forward, guilt pouring from his face.

“You told me to go home. You *grabbed* me,” I whisper.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says, eyes dropping to my wrist. “That wasn’t—”

“But you did.”

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“I shouldn’t have had to call Asher,” I add. “I shouldn’t have been stranded because *you* couldn’t handle yourself.”

Tyler’s knees hit the carpet as he drops to them. “Fuck—Penny. I’m so sorry.”

He reaches for my hands and I let him for a second. “I lost control. I let everyone down. I let you down. That night was supposed to be about celebrating you, and I made it all about me.”

There’s a long pause.

“I just want to make it right,” he says, eyes glassy. “You’re my best friend. I love you. Please don’t give up on me.”

He pulls me into a hug, and I let him. His arms wrap tight around me. I can feel his desperation. His fear. But I don’t hug him back. I’m stiff, frozen, because the hug doesn’t feel safe.

It doesn’t feel like home.

It feels like a memory I’m not sure I want anymore.

“Why does it feel like you keep choosing everything else first?” I say, my voice barely audible. “The party. The drinks. The game. The friends. And then you come crawling back and say sorry. And I just... I keep forgiving.”

He presses his forehead to mine. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Behind us, Asher steps off the final stair and scoffs.

“She’s not something to lose,” he says coldly.

Tyler turns, still on his knees. “What?”

Asher’s jaw is locked, fists clenched. “You treat her like she’s disposable. Like she’s always gonna be there to forgive you. That ends now.”

“This isn’t your business,” Tyler mutters.

“It *became* my business when she called me in tears,” Asher snaps. “When I showed up and she was shaking like a leaf on a goddamn lawn. When she was seconds away from getting *assaulted* at a party *you* brought her to.”

Tyler stands slowly, defiance sparking in his eyes. “I already said I’m sorry. So maybe ease up.”

Asher’s steps are slow, deliberate. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing between me and Tyler.

“Sorry doesn’t erase the bruise on her wrist,” he growls. “The one *you* gave her, Ty. Sorry doesn’t mean shit when it keeps happening.”

“Back the fuck off,” Tyler says, but his voice is uncertain now.

Asher turns to me gently. I can tell he doesn't want to leave, but he still asks, “You good with him?”

I nod. Quiet. My throat’s tight.

He nods back. Then, without another word, he walks past us and up the stairs.

Tyler exhales. “What the hell is his problem?”

“He's disappointed in the way you've been acting,” I whisper. “And I had to ruin his evening with his friend by calling him for help. Because of you.”

Tyler looks wounded. He opens his mouth, closes it. “Penny, I’m trying.”

“I know.”

He hugs me again. I let him. But I'm not sure it feels as good as it used to. It's familiar. Comfortable. But not safe. Not electrifying. It's tinted now.