Falling for my boyfriend’s Navy brother
Chapter 64: Asher
Dinner is good.
Shockingly good, actually – Penny picked well. Or wore Tyler down until he gave in, which is probably more accurate. Spicy, warm, complex dishes from some hole–in–the–wall Thai place she swore by. Tyler, of course, acted skeptical until he inhaled half of everything in front of him. Then half of her bowl,
too.
Now, he left us and is sprawled on the couch like a goddamn king, belly full, burping without shame while he scrolls through his phone looking for a movie.
I push my half–finished bowl toward her.
She looks up, surprised. “You okay?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I just watched my brother eat three–quarters of your food without asking. I’m full. Eat.”
Her eyes dart between me and the food, and for a second, she almost protests. Then she smiles a little crooked, a little pink in the cheeks – and digs in. “Thanks,” she says around her next bite.
She eats in a comfortable quiet, Tyler humming something tuneless as he argues with the remote.
She chews slowly, then looks over. “What do you really think
all this? Being here, I mean. Like… sleeping here.”
I glance at her. She’s not smiling now. Her legs are tucked under her, fingers cradling the bowl like it’s the only thing tethering her to the moment. I hold her gaze a second longer than I should.
“It’s nice,” I say honestly. “I’m glad my parents get a couple days for themselves. Glad to spend more time with Ty. And you’ve got a nice house.”
She nods, slowly. But there’s something behind her eyes – a little downturn at the corners of her mouth, a flash of disappointment. Like she wanted a different answer. Maybe.
So I add, “Plus, I’ve never lived with a princess before.”
That pulls a full laugh out of her. She nudges me with her socked foot. “Hey, I thought you said I wasn’t a princess anymore.”
I lean back and shrug. “You’re not an entitled princess anymore.”
“Progress,” she mutters with a mock sigh.
I get up, take her empty bowl and mine, and head for the kitchen/
She follows, grabbing napkins and wiping down the dinner table. We clean in quiet synchronicity – she rinses while I load the dishwasher. I’m halfway through scrubbing a stubborn pan when Tyler yells from the living room.
“LET’S GOOOO. MOVIE TIME.”
1
Penny laughs and dries her hands. “Coming!”
I follow her out, but we don’t even make it to the couch before Tyler holds up a hand. “Wait. Penny. Important question.”
She blinks. “Yes?”
“Do you have popcorn?”
She sighs dramatically. “Can’t watch a movie without it, can we?”
“Popcorn is non–negotiable,” he says with the gravitas of a man giving a TED Talk.
She groans but disappears into the kitchen. As soon as she’s gone, Tyler grins.
Chapter 64: Asher
“What are you up to?” I ask, already bracing myself.
He waggles his eyebrows. “I picked something she’s gonna hate.”
“Why?”
“Not hate hate. Just… scary.”
“Why?” I ask again.
“She’s jumpy. It’s funny.”
I shake my head. “You’re an ass.”
“And you’re gonna thank me.”
When Penny comes back with a big bowl of popcorn and three water bottles, Tyler pats the couch between us. “Right here. You’re gonna need protection
She narrows her eyes. “Why?”
“Just watch.”
She turns to me. I shrug, deadpan.
She huffs and drops between us, crisscross applesauce with the bowl in her lap.
The movie starts.
It’s… darker than I expected..
Some indie thriller. Serial killer. Cold palette. The kind of music that tells you someone’s gonna die five minutes before it happens. A detective who’s too smart for his own good. And a killer who seems to be everywhere, always one step ahead. Before long, the detective’s kidnapped, trapped in a house that’s either abandoned or haunted or both.
Penny jumps at every scare. Tyler’s dying.
She slaps his arm. “You suck.”
He wheezes. “You should’ve seen your face!”
She throws a piece of popcorn at him.
Five minutes later: another jump scare. She startles again,
“Stop it!” she cries when Tyler laughs.
“I’m not doing anything!”
She turns to me. “Is it gonna get worse?”
“Almost definitely,” I say.
“I think I know who the killer is,” she declares, hugging the popcorn like it’s armor. “It’s not the neighbor. It’s the sister. Or the guy from the first crime scene.”
“Close,” I say.
Tyler pauses, “You’ve seen this?”
Chapter 64: Asher
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then how do you know?”
I tap my temple. “Patterns. Logic. The sister’s timeline doesn’t line up.”
They stare at me.
Tyler mutters, “Remind me not to commit any crimes around you.”
The movie builds. The tension is unbearable. Penny is half–hiding behind the popcorn by the end, her body curled so close to itself she’s basically a comma.
I don’t blame her. The cinematography is brilliant. The shadows feel like they’re alive.
The final scene hits. The killer is who I thought it was.
Penny’s jaw drops. “What the hell–you were right.”
Tyler snores.
We both look over.
He’s starfished across the couch, mouth open, completely out.
She snorts and nudges him. “Idiot. That wasn’t a thriller. That was horror.”
He stirs. “Mmm. Loved it.”
“You slept through half of it.”
“I dreamed the rest.”
She throws a blanket at him. He grunts and rolls over.
“I’m gonna go take a quick shower,” she mumbles, stretching and yawning.
She disappears upstairs and we follow soon after I make sure all the doors and windows are locked.
I change into sweats while she’s gone. My shirt’s old and faded. The mattress is already inflated. I lie down. Holy shit.
My mom wasn’t lying. This thing’s comfortable.
I hear the bathroom door click open, and she walks in.
And freezes.
She’s in short pajama shorts and a loose t–shirt, and she suddenly looks like she regrets every life decision.
I keep my eyes respectfully above the neckline.
She clears her throat and turns toward the bed – but Tyler is a human starfish, arms and legs splayed like he’s reenacting a crime scene.
She mutters something under her breath and tries to push him.
“Move.”
He groans.
“Tyler, if you don’t move, I swear I will shave your eyebrows in your sleep.”
Chapter 64: Asher
He just mumbles and rolls halfway over- but that leaves one leg dangling and no more space.
She growls, red in the face, and looks ready to commit a felony.
I smirk. “Need help?”
“No,” she snaps, then sighs. “Maybe.”
She finally wriggles herself into a space next to him, tiny and frustrated, yanking the blanket over her.
I reach over and turn the light off.
A few minutes of silence pass.
Then:
“Asher?”
I open one eye. “What.”
“If you had to live inside one movie for the rest of your life, but you had to be a background character with no lines, what genre would you pick?”
I blink.
“Something’s wrong with you,” I murmur.
“But it’s a good question.”
I shake my head, smile in the dark. “Good night, Penny.”
“Fine,” she whispers. “But tomorrow, I want an answer.”
“Good night,” I say again, voice low.
She doesn’t reply.
But the silence is warm.
And I don’t sleep for a long time.
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