Page 15 of My Ex's Billionaire Brothers

“Don’t get me started, old man,” I tease, flicking a playful salute his way. He’s only a couple years older than me, but it’s fun topoke him about it. He rolls his eyes and steps aside as Theo enters behind us, phone already pressed to his ear.

“This place is definitely not four stars,” Anya says, wincing as she gently tests the living room chair with her hand. Her blue eyes sweep the dusty corners. She wears an oversized cardigan, but I can see the tension in her body.

Oh, how I’d love to help her with that.

I cluck my tongue. “Nah, but maybe two stars if we’re lucky. I’m sure it’ll do for one night. Tomorrow, we’ll find something better.” I catch her gaze and give a reassuring grin, determined to lighten her mood. In return, she manages a small smile, which warms my chest more than it should.

I turn to the closed door on the left, leading to the bedroom that’s presumably for me and my brothers. I creak it open and see two twin beds jammed into a tight space—definitely not ideal for three men, but we’ll manage. The mattresses, surprisingly, look new enough, and when I flop onto one, it doesn’t squeak or sag. “Huh,” I call out, “not bad, actually. Springs instead of hay, and the sheets smell clean.”

Anya appears in the doorway, peering in. Her gaze flicks from me to the narrow beds. “You guys…are all going to sleep in here?”

I roll onto my side, propping my head on my hand. “We’ll figure it out,” I say, giving her a wink. “I’ve shared worse accommodations with Gage and Theo.” It’s not exactly a lie—we’ve had some rough travel experiences. But at least those times, we didn’t have to worry about impressing a beautiful woman.

She bites her lip, her expression complicated. “I feel bad. I have two beds in mine. I can take one of the beds, and one of you can?—”

I wave a hand dismissively, hopping up. “Absolutely not. You deserve some privacy.”

She nods, hugging her arms around herself. I see the flicker of relief in her eyes. She’s so used to tiptoeing around others, not wanting to be an inconvenience.

She can inconvenience me any day.

Theo’s voice drifts in from the living room, clipped and formal as he presumably deals with some work crisis. I already texted Micah at my office—everything is handled. Nothing to worry about. Gage leans out of the kitchenette, phone in hand. “You guys all right in there? I’m about to order pizzas.”

“Pizzas?” I echo in mock horror. “Do you know how many carbs that is, big bro?”

“You can skip dinner if you like. Or nibble on lettuce from the nonexistent mini fridge. Your call.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Order the pizzas. I guess I can cheat on my diet for one night.” The idea of a greasy slice suddenly sounds fantastic after the long drive.

Anya trails behind me, her suitcase still in hand. She glances from me to Gage. “Thank you. Pizza…actually sounds lovely.” She hesitates, looking at the small dining table jammed against the wall. “Should I just…? Let me put my things in my room first.”

“Need help carrying that?” My gaze flicks to her luggage.

She shakes her head. “I’ve got it.”

I watch as she disappears into the other bedroom, the door closing softly behind her. My eyes linger on the empty space, mind drifting to Gage’s proposition from earlier. It’s a crazy idea—an obviouslybadidea, if I think about it logically. But logic rarely plays a role in my decisions.

Gage clears his throat, snapping me out of my reverie. “Pepperoni for you? Cheese for her, maybe?”

“Sure,” I say, feigning casualness. “And let’s get at least one with veggies. My conscience demands it.”

He rolls his eyes but taps in the order. Meanwhile, I grab my wallet and keys from my pocket, tossing them onto the small table. Theo paces in the corner, murmuring into his phone. Something about licensing agreements and expansions. The hum of everyday business talk, so I tune out.

Not long after that, the aroma of hot cheese and sauce coaxes a grin from each of us before we get started. “Definitely not Boston-style,” Gage remarks, inspecting the cardboard boxes. “But it’ll do.”

We settle around the table, Gage and Theo on one side, Anya and me on the other. It’s a tight fit—our knees bump against each other under the worn tabletop. I find myself reveling in the closeness, especially Anya’s presence next to me. We all grab slices, and for a moment, the tension melts away as we devour the greasy, delicious food. Even Theo lets his shoulders drop.

“You know,” I say around a mouthful of pepperoni, “this is probably the best pizza we’ll have all trip.” When Anya looks at me skeptically, I raise my slice in a mock toast. “Because it’s the first. The second pizza is never as magical.”

She laughs softly, rolling her eyes. “I’ll remember that when you’re on your third slice.”

“Hey, I’m a growing boy.” I shoot her a playful grin, and she snorts, nearly choking on her soda.

Theo finishes his slice quickly and checks his phone again. He stands, wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I need to call one of my assistants.” He sets his plate aside. “I’ll step outside, maybe get some better reception.”

Gage pushes the half-empty pizza box away. “I could use a shower.” He stretches his arms, his black T-shirt pulling taut against his broad torso. “You two can finish up if you’re still hungry. I’ll be out in a few.” He throws me a knowing look—one that says,Don’t do anything too stupid.Then he gathers his toiletry bag and steps into our shared bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Suddenly, the motel room feelsquiet.Anya and I remain at the table, half-eaten slices and empty soda cans between us. Her gaze flicks toward me, an uncertain smile playing on her lips. “So.”