Chapter 113: Asher
She looked it up.
Of course she did.
The three–foot rule. The Navy dogs. Probably more than that, too. She didn’t say it like it was some casual curiosity either her. Like I mattered.
sive said it like it mattered to
Most people don’t bother asking.
They hear “Navy,” and their brains stop at boats and basic training. Maybe think of ocean shots from Top Gun and someone saying Hon–yah. No one ever asks about the rest of it. The hours in the dark. The things you lose. The parts of yourself you don’t get back
And now Penny knows more than 1 ever planned to share.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye.
She’s curled into her seat, head tilted against the window. Her white sweater is soft and loose, sleeves pulled over her hands. She’s wearing pale jeans and those little white sneakers that always look brand new. Her hair’s down, falling in gentle waves over her shoulder. Light catches in it when we pass under gaps in the trees. There’s a tiny line between her brows, like she’s deep in thought.
I don’t know what she found when she searched. Probably the basics. Some of it sanitized. Some of it not. But either way–she looked. She took time out of her day to try and understand something she knew nothing about.
And something about that cracks something in me open.
God, I wish she hadn’t.
I don’t want her knowing what it really means. What it costs. I don’t want her mind dragging itself through the same dirt mine has. She doesn’t belong in that world. She belongs in studios that smell like rosin and wood polish, in shoes that blister and bruises that mean something. She belongs in movement and light, not blood and orders and silence.
I drag my eyes back to the road.
I want to ask her about her. About dancing. About what it feels like when her feet leave the floor and someone’s holding her in the air. About how old she was when she started. About what hurts the most her body or her pride – when she falls.
–
But I don’t.
Because I know what it feels like to have something stripped from you.
And she’s already been told not to dance. Already been benched. Asking about it will just make it worse.
So I do the only other thing I can think of.
I ask something harmless. Something I know has nothing to do with pain.
“What’s your favorite food?”
She doesn’t respond right away.
Turns toward me, confused. “What?”
“Favorite food,” I repeat. “Comfort food. Guilty pleasure. Doesn’t matter.”
She makes a face, like she’s trying to figure out if I’m serious.
“Um… okay. Probably mac and cheese. But it has to be baked. Like, real breadcrumbs on top. Not the box kind.”
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Chapter 113: Asher
I smirk. “Respectable.”
“You? I think you told me steak when I asked you before.”
“Yeah.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course it is.”
“Charred outside. Still bleeding inside.”
“Gross. You’re such a guy.”
“You asked.”
She laughs softly, and I let myself look at her for a second too long. Her nose crinkles when she laughs. Her whole face softens,
“Favorite color?” I ask next,
She tilts her head. “You’re just doing a personality quiz now.”
“Humor me.”
“Used to be purple,” she says. “Now I think it’s green.”
“I figured.”
That catches her off guard.
She blinks at me. “You figured?”
“Yeah.”
I nod toward her tote bag on the floor.
“Your notebooks are all green. Most of your hair ties too. Even your water bottle.”
Her lips part slightly. “You noticed that?”
I don’t answer.
Because I’m not about to tell her I notice everything. The way she bites the inside of her cheek when she’s thinking. The way her eyes dart down and left when she’s lying. The way her hands twist the sleeves of her hoodie when she’s uncomfortable. The way she always looks over her shoulder when she does just about anything, like she wants to see who else is watching and if she’s safe.
She’s quiet for a beat.
Then glances toward the backseat.
“He’s still out cold,” she mutters.
“He’d sleep through a hurricane.”
“Last week he fell asleep sitting on the washer while it was running.”
“Of course he did.”
We both fall quiet again, the road stretching ahead. Pines blur past. Snow piles gently at the sides of the highway. The sky’s pale makes everything look like a dream.
—
the kind of cloudy that
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Chapter 113: Asher
the tape her kad hack
the pull the devsky ceste may kay ng
*I’m not really cited sunt exeing expo Last time I saw mo of doxy, th
My jaw Tight, but I stay quiet,
“But,” she adds quickly, “I do went to see the now Lake really see. Quid den for getting rate
that
I smile, but don’t say anything
*And hot chocolate,” she finishes. “With marshmallows. The really lake kind that Art me all the way
“That’s the only kind worth having.” 1 say
She smiles again. It’s soft. Real
“What about you?” she asks, glancing over. “What do you want to do
1 grip the wheel tighter.
What do I want?
I want to see her cheeks flush pink from the cold. I want to wrap her in my jacket and feel her fingers catch in the be. I want to his her i font of the fireplace while snow hits the windows and no one else exists.
I want seven days of pretending she is mine and mine only.
But I can’t say any of that.
So instead I say-
“Make sure you don’t hit your head again.”
She huffs a small laugh. “Fair.”
Another beat of silence passes.
“Thanks for carrying me upstairs the other night, by the way,” she says suddenly.
“No problem.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
She doesn’t say anything else after that. Just goes back to watching the road.
And I stay quiet, too.
