Chapter summary of Chapter 298 – Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother by Free Collection
In Chapter 298, a key chapter of the acclaimed Alpha novel Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother by Free Collection, readers are drawn deeper into a story filled with emotion, conflict, and transformation. This chapter brings crucial developments and plot twists that make it essential reading. Whether you’re new to the book or a loyal fan, this section delivers unforgettable moments that define the essence of Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother.
Chapter 298
I’m parked outside the studio, engine off, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.
–
The sky’s already dipped into early evening, that cold shade of blue that makes streetlights flicker on early. I can see her through the big glass windows she’s still at the barre, stretching, talking with Luc and Madame Loretto. Her shoulders look tired, but she’s laughing.
Probably at something dumb Luc said. That kid’s all limbs and attitude, but he makes her smile, so I’ve learned to tolerate him.
She waves goodbye, then walks to grab her bag, slinging it over one shoulder like it doesn’t weigh more than she does. I get out and lean
against the car as she exits, wind catching the edge of her coat. Her cheeks are flushed from rehearsal, lips pink from effort, hair up in a
messy twist that somehow still makes me want to ruin her entire life.
She spots me and lights up, all warmth and energy like I haven’t seen her in weeks, not hours.
I hold up the bag of food.
“Don’t tell me,” she says as she jogs the last few steps. “Pho?”
“Empanadas.” I grin. “You’re due for a rotation.”
She groans in delight and drops her bag into the backseat before climbing in. I follow, and the moment we’re in the car, she’s pulling out
the first container like a girl possessed.
I hand her napkins, utensils, the drink. I know the drill.
She doesn’t even hesitate before digging in- biting into the empanada like she’s been starving for a week. And the thing is… I love this. Watching her eat. Watching her inhale food like she has zero shame about being hungry, like she trusts me enough to never hide any part
of herself again.
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She’s so small. So delicate-looking. But she eats like a lion. Always has. And I find it weirdly ridiculously beautiful. Like proof she’s
still surviving. Still thriving.
She chews with her mouth full. “Madame Loretto told me we’re doing a full tech run next Thursday, so I have to wear the solo costume
for rehearsal. I’m gonna die.”
“You’ll be perfect.”
“I’ll be sweaty and sore and terrified.”
“Still perfect,” I say, quietly. Because it’s true.
She hums, taking another bite, then says around a mouthful of food, “Luc thinks I’m gonna slip and eat it on that stupid spin sequence.”
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Chapter 298
“He’s wrong.”
She looks at me for a second – really looks
–
and her face softens like she’s seeing something she didn’t expect.
“What?” I ask.
She shrugs. “You just… always believe in me.”
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I reach over and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s because I’ve seen what you can do. On stage. Off stage. In the middle
of a fight. At two a.m. crying over pad thai. You’ve never backed down once.”
She sets her taco down and leans across the console, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw. “You’re dangerous when you get all sincere.”
“I’m always sincere.”
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She grins, wipes her fingers, and we drive the rest of the way home in the kind of silence that feels full easy. Her fingers pick at the
hem of her sleeve while she finishes her food, and I keep catching myself glancing at her profile in the glow of the dashboard.
I’ll never get used to this.
We’re barely through the front door when she kicks off her shoes and mutters, “Shower. Now. I smell like floor wax and sweat.”
I laugh, locking the door behind us. “You want me to start laundry?”
“You’re too good to me.”
I shrug, setting the takeout trash aside. “Not possible.”
She pads off toward the bathroom, already tugging her sweatshirt off over her head as she goes, and I catch just a flash of skin – pale, smooth, familiar now, but still enough to punch the breath out of my lungs.
The water starts running. I hear the door close, but not lock.
That shouldn’t matter,
But it does.
I sit on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, hands tangled in my hair, listening to the sound of the shower.
She’s in there. Warm water pouring down her back. Skin flushed. Hair wet. Completely unguarded. And I’m out here, breathing like I just
ran five miles.
Because the thing is, I could go in.
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