Page 6 of My Ex’s Billionaire Brothers (Forbidden Hearts #5)

GAGE

I shift in the back seat of Theo’s big white SUV, stretching my legs as much as I can without crowding Anya.

It’s not easy—my frame is large, and the space feels cramped despite how roomy the vehicle is.

But I’ll take it. When I see Anya exhale that small sigh of relief every time she glances at me, like she’s settling into her new reality, it’s worth being cramped back here.

The trust in her expression is humbling, and it makes me want to protect her all the more.

Theo sits at the wheel, upright and focused on the highway.

His white-gray hair, carefully combed, gleams under the late-afternoon sunlight pouring through the windshield.

Hunter, in the middle row, leans his head back against the seat, occasionally turning to shoot us a grin.

Anya is right beside me, and every so often, I catch the faintest brush of her shoulder against my arm, sending a spark of warmth through my chest.

For the last few minutes, she’s been quiet, fiddling with the zipper on her sweater, cheeks pink with embarrassment from the admission that she’s always played the “good girl” and now doesn’t know who she is beneath that.

I shift my gaze from the passing scenery—endless stretches of highway framed by scattered trees—to her downturned face. She has that uncertain posture of someone who isn’t sure whether she belongs.

She never felt like she fit in anywhere. I know the feeling.

The first time I met her, even though she was smiling politely at the Carver family dinner, her eyes gave her away.

It was right there for anyone who knew what to look for.

That flicker of curiosity, of longing. And now she’s finally admitting that she’s dying to break out of the box everyone stuck her in.

Theo’s voice breaks the silence from the front seat, refined as ever. “Anya,” he says, “pardon me for being blunt, but did you enjoy anything you saw at our club? Sins, I mean. Was it at all…appealing?”

She stiffens for a moment, then her eyes dart my way. I can almost feel the tension in her body. “I—well, yes,” she murmurs, gazing out the window as if the highway might rescue her from the question. “It was overwhelming, but also…intriguing. I’ve never seen anything like that up close.”

Up close. Meaning she’s looked for it online?

My spine straightens. I’m aware, in a deep, instinctive way, that this is dangerous territory . Even so, my blood hums with anticipation.

This is my domain.

Hunter shifts in the middle row, twisting around to grin at her. “Oh? Anything in particular that struck your fancy, sweetheart?”

Her face turns scarlet. She clutches the seam of her sweater. “I don’t know. Everyone looked so free. Like they were living out loud, not caring what anyone thought.”

I exchange a glance with Hunter, and he gives a quick, mischievous smirk.

Then my eyes flick to the rearview mirror, where Theo’s gaze meets mine, his dark brown eyes steady.

The three of us share a silent understanding that this is a very slippery slope.

Anya is vulnerable—hurt by Calvin’s rejection.

But she’s also hungry for something new, for the side of herself she’s kept locked away.

I clear my throat, letting my hand rest lightly on the edge of her seat. “You’ve always been so good and proper, huh?”

“Yes,” she says, voice almost a whisper. “And I’m tired of it. I want to break free of that. I—” She swallows, lips parted. “That’s why I went to Sins in the first place. I wanted revenge, yes, but…I also wanted to see …stuff.”

She halts, as though startled by her own honesty. The protective part of me wants to shield her from judgment, from heartache, from everything. The dom in me wants to coax her toward the experiences she’s been denied.

And that’s the problem.

I know it’s a terrible idea to pursue my brother’s ex. But the thought of helping her discover her hidden self stirs an undeniable thrill in me.

“And how do you plan to do that?” I ask gently.

She presses her lips together, scanning each of our faces in turn. “I…don’t know. I’ve never done anything like that. I’ve barely tried anything beyond…” She hesitates, looking down. “Well, vanilla,” she finishes in a mumble.

I share another look with Hunter, who arches an eyebrow, a silent invitation for me to do what I do best. Our gazes flit to Theo.

He’s the logical, business-minded one, the one who keeps us grounded.

But all I see in the mirror is a curt nod from him, as if granting permission for something we all know is ill-advised.

I’ll take it.

I exhale, turning toward Anya and leaning in slightly. “You’re new to things beyond vanilla, but you’re curious. And you want to break out of that ‘good girl’ persona.” I pause, letting the idea take shape in my mind. “We can help with that, if you let us.”

She blinks. Her breathy voice goes softer. “What does that mean?”

“Right now, you’re stuck in limbo—between Boston and Castle Beach, between the life Calvin dictated and the one you really want.”

Her eyes widen, and I know I’ve hit on what she’s feeling—that sense of not belonging anywhere. Her voice trembles. “Yes…”

“That’s where we come in,” I say, voice pitched low enough that it feels almost private, despite Hunter and Theo being here.

“We’ve got this whole road trip ahead of us.

No real schedule, aside from eventually getting you home in time for the holiday.

We can experiment. Let you try things. No strings attached, no judgment.

If you change your mind, we stop.” I spread my hands in a shrug that belies my heart pounding like a jackhammer.

“We’re more than capable of showing you what’s out there. It’s what we do.”

She’s silent for a long beat, absorbing the weight of my offer. I know this is a bad idea. But when it comes to Anya Markoff, all I have are bad ideas.

The night I first saw her wasn’t when Calvin introduced her to us.

It was a fundraiser for a children’s hospital—one of those black-tie events we’re expected to attend to keep Mom happy.

I was standing off to one side of the silent auction, bored out of my mind, scrolling through my phone.

Then I saw a stunning brunette across the room, wearing a sleek burgundy dress, her wavy hair pinned back to one side, cheeks flushed with delight at the lively conversation around her.

She was breathtaking, so different from the cold, orchestrated women I usually found at these functions.

More than that, she laughed. Fully tossing her head back, nothing guarded about it. It was unrestrained, unrefined, and utterly magnetic. She was a beacon in a dark sea, and I was drawn to her.

I was about to cross the room, determined to introduce myself, when Calvin materialized at my elbow. “Who are you looking at like that?”

I pointed her out. “The burgundy dress. That’s the kind of woman you marry. ”

He gave a noncommittal hum, as if unbothered. Then he pointed to one of the donors near the stage, telling me I needed to speak to him about some philanthropic project Mom was heading. I turned to handle that business for what felt like only a minute or two.

When I looked back, Calvin was already at her side, making her laugh. The next thing I knew, they were dancing in the ballroom across the hall.

I tried to mask my frustration, telling myself I should have spoken to her faster. But inside, I was pissed. He’d done it deliberately. It felt like a betrayal of the unspoken code among brothers—not to swoop in on someone the other obviously wanted to get to know.

Now, looking at Anya’s face, I remember that immediate sensation I had of her being the kind of woman you marry. Someone sweet, passionate, and real. Her beguiling laugh still haunts me. Which is why this arrangement is dangerous.

I’m well aware she’s vulnerable right now, and I should be the last person messing around with her. Yet my instincts won’t stay silent, especially when she’s practically begging to explore who she really is.

She’s bright red, eyes darting between me and the back of Theo’s headrest. When she speaks, her voice comes out in a rush. “So…you’re saying, like, during this trip, I could try stuff? And you three would help me figure it out?”

Hunter chuckles softly. “Why not? We’re all consenting adults here.

If you decide you want to push your boundaries, we guide you.

Show you how to do it safely. No one’s forcing you.

No hard feelings if you say no. But this is your chance to experience something like what we do at Sins without feeling like you’re free-falling in a public place. It’s your call.”

I nod. “Exactly. No strings, no expectations. No consequences. If, at the end of the road trip, you want to go back to the quiet, polite Anya, that’s fine. But if you want to break free…” I let my voice trail off.

She glances at Theo, who hasn’t said much since I made the offer. He remains focused on the road, but I see him occasionally checking us in the rearview mirror. He gives her a small, almost imperceptible nod, confirming he’s on board.

She clears her throat, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. “I—I need to think about it. This is…a lot.” Her eyes flick to the middle seat, then land on me once more. “I just got out of a bad situation with Calvin. I’m not sure if I’m ready to jump into something, even if it’s casual.”

It’s all I can do not to offer a demonstration right now. “Completely understandable. Take all the time you need. We’re not in a hurry.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. Then she falls silent, staring out the window at the rolling greenery and scattered towns passing by.

I sense tension draining out of the SUV, replaced by a charged possibility. There’s no going back from what we just proposed, but there’s also no pressure.

We drive on through the afternoon, stopping here and there for gas and snacks. None of us are in a rush. By the time night falls, we reach northern Delaware, exhausted and in need of a place to crash. But after Anya checked into it, we learn that Calvin canceled all their hotel reservations.

Because of course he did. The dick.

“This is the only place that has rooms,” Theo announces, checking his phone at a gas station. He rattles off the address of a motel near the highway. “It’s not ideal, but we don’t have many options if we don’t want to sleep in the car tonight.”

Hunter groans, but I shrug. “We’ll manage.” I shoot a worried glance at Anya, who bites her lip in hesitation.

She forces a small smile. “It’ll be fine. I’d sleep on a cot if it means not dealing with Calvin.”

Eventually, we pull off the interstate and into the parking lot of a low-slung, two-story motel. The neon sign flickers with half-dead bulbs. The asphalt is cracked, and a lone streetlamp illuminates more moths than parking lot.

Theo and Hunter head inside, and I pop open the rear hatch to start grabbing our luggage. A warm breeze ruffles my hair. The night air is thick with humidity. I can’t deny I’m on high alert—places like this aren’t the safest.

As I heave my duffel bag out of the trunk, the zipper snags and splits. Great. My bag flops open, revealing clothes, toiletries, and— damn it. My knitting project. Yarn spills out in a tangled ball of soft gray wool, along with needles and a half-finished project. I freeze, heart thumping.

Footsteps approach behind me, and I pivot quickly, trying to shove the yarn back inside. But it’s too late. Anya stands there, watching me with wide eyes. I flush, cursing silently. My bag’s contents are out in the open for her to see, yarn trailing over the dusty pavement.

She glances at the yarn, then meets my gaze.

There’s no mockery in her expression, only surprise—and curiosity.

I see her lips part, but she doesn’t speak.

My chest constricts. The last thing I need is Hunter or Theo finding out.

I’ve always felt silly for enjoying this harmless pastime, but I love it.

The act of creating something out of yarn isn’t unlike shibari, except this is wearable shibari.

She stands there silently, like she’s not sure what to say. Then her eyes flick to Theo and Hunter, coming our way.

“Please don’t,” I whisper, my voice low and urgent.

She looks from me to the knitting needles in my hand, then to the other two men.

I see understanding dawn on her face, and her tight smile seems sympathetic.

Wordlessly, she nods once, stooping to help me scoop the yarn back into the bag.

Her gesture is so gentle, so accepting, that my gut twists with gratitude.

I mouth thank you. She presses her lips together, returning my look with a softness that nearly undoes me. Then, carefully, she zips my bag. For a moment, we’re both crouched by the bumper of the SUV, the motel’s neon flickering above us. My heart thuds in my ears.

“Everything okay over there?” Hunter calls, voice slicing through the hush.

I clear my throat, rising to my full height. “All good,” I answer, forcing a casual note. I hoist the duffel bag over my shoulder as Anya straightens, smoothing her sweater. She gives me one more fleeting smile—an unspoken promise to keep my secret—then moves to join Theo and Hunter.

“Shake a leg—this is a bad neighborhood,” Theo says.

Hunter snorts a laugh. “It’s Delaware. The whole state is a bad neighborhood.”

I roll my eyes and, loaded up with our bags, I follow them inside.