Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother Chapter 92

Rooster wraps Penny in a hug that nearly lifts her off the floor. She laughs, surprised, her face slightly smushed against his chest. “It was so nice to meet you,” she says, and I can tell she means it.

“You too, ballerina,” he says, grinning. “We’re coming to your Spring Gala. Count on it.”

“Front row,” Anna adds, hugging Penny with just as much affection, her perfume like cedar and something earthy. “You’re a little thing but you’ve got a big presence. I see why he talks about you.”

Penny’s eyes flick to mine at that, but neither of us say anything.

We walk out of the restaurant together. The breeze has picked up and the night air smells like grilled meat and pavement. I unlock the car and hold the passenger door open for her, and she slides in with a contented groan.

Once I’m in the driver’s seat, she tips her head back, rubbing slow circles over her stomach.

“I’m so full,” she moans. “If you keep feeding me like this, Luc won’t be able to lift me. I’ll be the first Black Swan who eats herself out of the air.”

I snort. “A toddler could still lift you.”

Her mouth drops open. “Excuse me?” She punches my bicep—not hard, but not exactly soft either. “You’re rude.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“I’m just saying, you keep shoveling pork belly onto my plate like I’m training for a sumo match.”

I glance over, and despite the dark swallowing her tiny frame, I can see the slight curve of her belly under the seatbelt. She’s rubbing it with both hands, pouting a little from how full she is. It’s innocent. Completely innocent.

So why the hell does my mind immediately betray me?

The image flashes like a bolt of lightning—her belly rounded, not from grilled meat, but swollen with something I put there. Something small and growing. Her skin stretched. Her cheeks flushed. The image is so visceral I have to grip the steering wheel tighter.

Fuck.

I look away. I’m gonna drive us into a fucking wall at this rate.

“Thanks for inviting me tonight,” she says, her voice soft again. “Really.”

“Thanks for coming,” I say, careful to keep it neutral. “They loved you.”

She smiles at that. “I loved them too. Anna’s so cool. I can’t believe she threatened to kick Eric’s ass if he joined the Navy and then still waited for him anyway.”

I nod, keeping my eyes on the road. “They’re solid.”

Silence falls for a minute. Comfortable. Almost too comfortable.

Then she speaks again. “Hey, about what Eric said… earlier.”

I tense.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she adds quickly. “But, like… if you want to bring her around the house or something, or if you’re not home some nights because of her, it’s okay. I don’t want to take up your time. I didn’t realize I was, like… in the way.”

“Drop it,” I say, sharper than I mean to.

She goes quiet. Her hands go still in her lap.

I grit my teeth. I should’ve handled that better. But how the hell am I supposed to explain something that shouldn’t be spoken out loud?

“I just…” she tries again, voice hesitant. “I know I’ve been… needing a lot from you lately. You’ve been there for me so much, and I’m really grateful, but I didn’t know you had someone in your life and—”

“Penny,” I cut her off. “Drop it.”

She stares out the window now, her reflection barely visible in the glass. I can feel her walls going up, brick by brick.

I exhale hard. “Sorry,” I mutter.

She says nothing.

“I just… it’s complicated.”

Because what the hell am I supposed to say? That she’s the girl in question? That the second Rooster said those words, I nearly had a goddamn heart attack? That I’ve been watching her for weeks now, slowly falling for her in a way that feels like drowning in warm water?

That the thought of her with Tyler makes me see red?

That all I want to do is pull over, unbuckle her seatbelt, lift her into my lap, and kiss her until her lips are bruised and she knows exactly what she means to me?

But I can’t say any of that. Not one fucking word.

She clears her throat. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t know why I said anything. Your love life isn’t my business.”

If only you knew.

I grip the steering wheel tighter and say nothing. Because if I open my mouth now, everything will come pouring out—and once it does, I won’t be able to take it back.

We pull up to the house a few minutes later. I kill the engine, and for a second, neither of us moves. She's unbuckling her seatbelt, reaching for the door handle when I say, “Penny, wait.”

Her hand pauses on the door. “It’s fine, Asher,” she says without looking at me, her voice small.

I’m out of the car before she can finish getting her door open. I circle around, intercepting her just as she’s stepping out.

She looks surprised.

Before she can say another word, I gently grab her wrist—not tight, just enough—and guide her a step back. Then I lift her effortlessly and set her on the hood of the car.

She gasps softly. Her hands immediately go to the metal edge behind her to steady herself, and her eyes lock onto mine like I just shifted the whole gravity in her world.

God, she’s so light.

“I’m sorry,” I say, standing between her knees. I've got to stop making a habit of standing there, but it's fucking addictive. “About earlier. The car ride. What Rooster said.”

She swallows but doesn’t speak.

“I had a good time tonight. With you. Rooster shouldn't have brought that up. It wasn't his place.”

Still nothing.

Her eyes flick down, lashes thick, her expression unreadable.

Then she whispers, “What’s her name?”

It’s like a punch straight to the gut. I should’ve seen that coming.

I inhale slowly. “Penny…”

*That's her name*, is what I want to say. She still won’t look at me.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

Her mouth twists slightly like she expected that answer. Her shoulders curl forward a little. Defensive. Hurt.

And I can’t take it.

My hands go to her hips—automatically, instinctively. They fit too perfectly there. I shouldn’t notice that, but I do. I feel her shiver under my touch, just the faintest tremble. Her breath catches.

Finally, she looks up.

And the look on her face—

Shit.

It’s like her heart is cracking, one fragile seam at a time. Her eyes are glassy, her lower lip trembling just enough to tear me apart. She’s trying not to cry.

I have no idea why she feels this sad. I don’t know if it’s because I snapped at her earlier. Or because she thinks I don’t trust her enough to share my "love life" with her.

If she only knew.

If she only fucking knew how many nights I’ve had to talk myself out of reaching for her. How many times I’ve heard her laugh and had to pretend it didn’t send a bolt of heat straight to my chest. How many times I’ve seen her stretch on the floor in those tight-ass leggings and had to close my eyes just to breathe.

I step in closer, caging her in gently between my arms and the car.

Her knees are brushing my thighs now, her breath shallow. I can feel the heat rolling off her.

“I’m not mad at you,” I say, voice low. “And I’m not hiding anything to hurt you.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes search mine like she’s trying to decode a map that doesn’t make sense.

I reach up, tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. My fingers linger at her jaw.

“I had a good night. The best one I’ve had in a long time,” I admit, softer this time. “And I don’t want to ruin it by saying something I’m not supposed to say.”

Her brows pull together. “Like what?”

Like I want you to be mine.

Like I want you every second I’m around you and every second I’m not.

But I just... don't say anything.

She nods, barely.

And still—she doesn’t move away.

Not even an inch.