Chapter 222: Penny
It’s been four days.
Four days since Christmas Eve.
Four days since Ashei placed a tiny gold key in my palm and changed the direction of my life.
Since I climbed onto his lap and told him I wanted to live with him. Since he kissed the tears from my cheeks and whispered that he would never seent
Another night without me. Since he laid me down and showed me–again and again–that his love wasn’t just a word. It was a promise written inte mistin’s
with every breathless kiss and whispered 1 love you between thrusts. A language all our own, spoken in gasps and laughter and soft mutans swallowed by the dark.
The next morning was a quiet kind of perfect. His arms tangled around me, my hair spilling over his chest, his hand lazily tracing shapes into my some we didn’t move until nearly noon.
Then I left for my parents‘ house. He went to see his. And the day after that, I packed most of my life into two duffel bags and a small suitcase and brought it here. Home.
My parents were a little misty–eyed, but proud. I’d half expected an argument, or at least a long conversation. But they just hugged me and told me to trust my gut. That they liked Asher. That he felt like someone who would catch me if I ever started to fall.
I nearly laughed–because what they didn’t know was that I’d already fallen. Hard. And he hadn’t just caught me. He’d built a whole world for me to land in
I cried when I saw the dresser.
Three drawers, sleek wood, lined with velvet and tiny dividers for tights, leotards, and ballet shoes. Still unopened. Still untouched.
“For you,” he’d said simply. “Bought them the week I moved in. Knew you’d need space.”
Space. For my things. For me.
Now it’s New Year’s Eve Eve and we’re having the tiniest get–together imaginable. Just our inner circle. Asher wasn’t easy to convince – something about “security risks” and “too many people knowing our location.” I might’ve had to convince him in… less conventional ways. Which, let’s be honest, worked like
a charm.
And now the apartment’s glowing.
The fireplace flickers soft amber light across our friends‘ faces. Fairy lights sparkle above the windows, and the scent of pizza and cinnamon hangs in the air. Mila and Anna are deep in a very passionate discussion about rescue dogs.
“Tell me why police dogs get pensions and rescue dogs get nothing,” Mila says, waving her wine glass with enough fervor to make me flinch. “It’s criminal.”
Anna nods. “We should call it the Bone and Badge Initiative.”
“That sounds like a really cool punk band,” Luc throws in from his spot on the floor. He’s half–lounging, legs stretched out, one sock missing,
Boomer, lounging with his head tipped against the couch, leans toward me. “When’s your charity event again? The New Year’s one?”
“Tomorrow night,” I say, grabbing a slice of pepperoni and mozzarella heaven. “Just a low–key fundraiser, Local artists, some silent auction stuff. I’m performing a short piece to close it.”
Max brightens from the other side of the coffee table. “Got tickets! Taking my sister. She’s been asking about ballerinas ever since the winter showcase.
I grin. “I’ll get you front row seats to the spring gala too.”
Luc lifts a brow at Max. “Can’t wait to see you there.”
Max snorts, and I laugh until my stomach hurts. The wine’s made everything looser around the edges, like the world’s been softened just for tonight,
Chapter 222: Penny
Boomer is mid bite when he turns back to me, “still spare at your event tomorrow?*
I’m about to say yes when Rooster speaks from where he’s leaned against the kitchen counter kaside Asher. “Nope. He’s me drita*
Boomer groans.
Rooster shrugs. “You and 1 both, dude. Command wants us to run simulations for the new cl
I glance at Asher. He’s already watching me, like he always does, quiet and focused. There’s an apology
in his gave.
He’d told me last week about the drills. Had tried to reschedule them. I even heard him on the phone one night, wins tight, caying ‘persand en bar, af
it’s important to me.”
But I’d stopped him. Told him I do this every year. That I didn’t need him there. That what mattered was coming home to him after
He’d kissed me slow, deep, and said, “I’ll still try.”
I’m still thinking about that when my phone buzzes in my lap.
I glance down.
Unknown number.
hey pretty
My fingers freeze. I frown. That same number texted me earlier.
where you at beautiful
we miss you
I’d ignored them. Assumed it was spam. But now… something in my gut tightens.
I block the sender. Drop my phone back onto the couch cushion.
“You good?” Boomer asks beside me.
“Yeah,” I say quickly. “Wrong number.”
He narrows his eyes but lets it go.
Max and Luc are now arguing over whether hot sauce belongs on pizza. Mila’s curled up with Anna and a throw blanket, still talking dogs. And Rooster’s dragging Boomer into some debate about combat strategy,
Asher is still by the counter. Still watching me.
His beer is loose in one hand, his other resting on the counter’s edge. The moment our eyes lock, his mouth tips into that slow, devasta no right to make my heart clench like this. Like it’s folding in on itself in devotion.
I don’t even realize I’ve stopped breathing.
He tilts his head a little. Just enough to say, I see you.
And God–some days, I still can’t believe this is mine. That he is mine.
—
That all of this this life, this home, this love is somehow real.
mirk that has
Falling for my boyfriend’s Navy
