Page 33 of My Ex's Billionaire Brothers

“Given our history, Gage, I would have thought that much was clear to you already.”

Our history. A childhood of neglect and nannies. Teenage years filled with tutors and the best schools and social climbing. She hated that I got into bodybuilding and that I just kept growing. Said it made me look too much like my father. But the gym was the only real connection I ever had with the man, so I kept at it. She forbade me from lifting weights when I started hulking out of my school uniform.

But she couldn’t stop me from using the gym at school. And when I turned eighteen, she couldn’t stop me from signing up for the Marines. She did her level best to prevent me from shooting through the ranks as fast as I was. She called in favors and nagged generals like they were no different from her maids. It was embarrassing, to say the least. Mom hated everything about my military career, except the fact that it ended.

There are days I still wonder whether the accident that closed my career was an actual accident or if Mom paid off the kid behind the wheel of the Humvee. When I think too hard about it, I can still see the look of concentration in his eyes right before that fated turn. He jerked the wheel for no reason, and that was it.

The next thing I knew, we were rolling down a deep crevasse. The memory of rolling forever never left me, not even with the concussion. We’d been warned that the terrain had taken more people out than the enemy combatants had. I understood why. Going over and over, down, down, down?—

My stomach knots when I think about it. I imagine Vasquez thought the crevasse was shallower than it was. No money in the world was worth what happened to him—a broken neck and a mangled body. He barely survived.

My concussion was the least of my worries in the moments after the Humvee settled. I had to get my team out of the vehicle. We were sitting ducks if the enemy found us, so I radioed for help and started dragging them out, one by one, to get us moving again. That’s where my memory gets foggy.

I got Myers, Anderson, and Wallis out first, and they were beat up but whole, relatively speaking. Mostly scrapes and concussions. I dragged Shepard out too, and she had blood streaming down her face from her broken nose. I was going to tell her to pinch the bridge of her nose to staunch it, but she said, “Carver, your arm!”

I looked at my right arm and saw bone and meat. And then, I saw nothing at all.

Woke up in a trauma center a few days later and subsequently fell right back to sleep. Technically, it was a coma, or so they tell me. I didn’t really come around until I was back in Boston, with Mom standing next to me, giving her fake worried face to the doctors. It was a capital performance.

Eventually, I caught up with the team, but the driver did everything he could to avoid me. I heard from the team that he’d come into some kind of cash windfall and had moved to Panama. I never saw Vasquez again.

When I told Mom about it, she got that secret smile she always wears when she’s meddled in something, and then she said the story of the injured war veteran who saved his team was a perfect backstory for a future president. I flipped her off and walked away.

Right now, I want to do that again.

My jaw clenches. Heat scorches the back of my neck. “I have to go,” I say, ignoring the treacherous twist in my chest as I hang up. She might be right about my feelings for Anya, but I’m not admitting to a damn thing.

Hunter appears from around the side of the SUV, an uneasy look on his face. “Hey, we’ve got a problem.”

“Another one?”

“Hopefully, this one will be more fun than our other problems. Car trouble,” he says, grimly sardonic. “She won’t start, won’t even turn over.” He pointedly squints toward the small town. “Not sure we’ll find help here.”

I exhale, forcing myself to focus.So much for a smooth ride.“Alright. Let’s deal with it.” As much as I hate car bullshit, at least it’s a problem I can solve. When it comes to Anya, I’m lost.

15

HUNTER

I slamthe hood of our SUV for the second time in five minutes, sending a uselessclankechoing across the gas station parking lot. “Well, folks,” I mutter under my breath, “we’ve officially entered the Automotive Twilight Zone. Next stop: Meltdown City.”

Feels like we’re already in Meltdown City. The hot North Carolina sun beats down on me, making my T-shirt cling to my back. I’m about two degrees away from ripping it off, but I doubt that’d help. There’s no breeze, just sweltering heat.

Gage stands off to the side, phone in hand, pacing like a caged lion. Theo’s busy folding his arms like he’s posing for a lawyer’s headshot, and Anya…I spot her near the rear of the SUV, chewing on her lip and looking ten times more anxious than the rest of us combined. And that’s saying something, given my blood pressure.

I run a hand over my buzzed hair, biting down on my exasperation.Yes, car trouble is bad, but at least we’re not spontaneously combusting. Yet.

It doesn’t help that Gage filled me in on the latest Calvin development. Not only is he apparently gallivanting around with his political consultant—who looks about as cuddly as a crocodile—but now he’s bringing her to Castle Beach for the holiday.

If he’s so busy launching a fancy Senate campaign, what’s he doing messing around in our territory?

I swear, that man is like a boomerang. You throw him away, but he keeps coming back to annoy you.

The gas station attendant, who’s definitely on her third coffee of the day, has called her mechanic buddy to come check out Theo’s poor dead SUV. Except we’ve been waiting…forever.At least we have the blazing heat to keep us company.

I glance at the car’s dusty windshield, remembering last night. The memories make me somehow hotter. My skin prickles just thinking of Anya’s soft body. It was like I’d hopped into a fantasy dimension where everything tastes like candy. And now, I’m back in the mundane reality of a broken-down SUV and a blistering parking lot. Fate is fucking with me.

Also, there’s the pesky little fact that I told myselfno feelings.But I can’t deny it anymore. She’s not just a fling. I want her—really want her.All of her.She’s unbelievably sweet, and the way she reacted to all three of us…let’s just say my daydreams are getting downright X-rated.