Page 62 of My Ex's Billionaire Brothers

Anger, sorrow, and panic crash like rogue waves. “You think running leaves less damage?”

“I think staying will drown everyone.” She swipes another tear. “Please, Gage. Let me go.”

“We drove eleven hundred miles to be by your side, not to chase your taillights.”

“That was the agreement, wasn’t it?” she whispers. “Once we arrived, the arrangement was over.”

“That was before Calvin melted down in the driveway,” I counter. “Before Hunter risked jail time to protect you.”

“I know, I just…” She sniffles and wipes her eyes.

I’m not giving her the chance to speak when all she’s saying is bad idea after bad idea. I cross the pink carpet and kneel. “Talk to me before you vanish. Why bolt now?”

“Because I’m the problem.” She takes a chest-heaving breath. “I called you my boyfriends—didn’t ask. The town elders will call it…sinful.”

“You’re worried about some old gossip hounds? For real?”

“This is over, isn’t it?” she says, ignoring my question. “This temporary thing between us? That was the plan. We should stick to the plan. It lets you off the hook?—”

“Off the hook?” I reach for her hands, but she jerks back. The hurt sharpens my voice. “What makes you think we want to be off the hook?”

“I just?—”

“Do you want to leave becauseyoudon’t feel for us, or because you’re scared of other people’s opinions?” I have to know. Which is she avoiding?

Silence. The cicadas outside stop like a dropped needle. Her answer emerges ragged. “I can’t be me when everyone knows my business. These people, they’ll make life hard on my parents, Gage. All because I’m the weirdo who brought home three guys for the holiday, and my ex made a scene. What else am I supposed to do? Let them suffer?”

My chest caves in. “What about staying with people who…who care?” The word love nearly breaks out of me, but I swallow it.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” The words hiss out of me. “What are you saying?”

Her eyes shimmer. “If you hate me for bailing, it’ll be easier. So, do that. Hate me. Forever. Please.”

“I can’t hate you.” My own voice fractures. “Don’t make me try.”

She lifts her chin, tears streaking her freckles. “Ride’s four minutes away.”

I rake a hand through my hair, fighting for calm. “You pawn the ring, live in a stranger’s spare room, and wait tables. That’s not a new start. It’s self-imposed exile.”

“But it’smyexile,” she whispers.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met,” I say quietly. “You flew to Boston without knowing anyone there. You cared for Calvin when he barely saw you for who you are, and you survived his dumping you. That’s muscle.” I tap my chest. “Other people’s judgment is just noise.”

She clutches the suitcase handle tighter. “That noise is drowning me. I have to get out. Hate me, Gage. Tell the others?—”

I exhale, a broken laugh. “I could punch granite smooth easier than hate you, baby.” Emotion floods me, suffocating me from the inside out. “You changed my axis, Anya Markoff. I wake up thinking about how to make you laugh. I fall asleep hoping I’m in your dreams. You are in my bones, my thoughts, my heart. You have pulled me back to myself.”

“No, I didn’t.” She sighs, wiping a tear. “I pulled you and Theo and Hunter off course. I’m sorry for that.”

“You haven’t. You brought us to life. Don’t do this.”

A brittle sob escapes her. She stuffs the ring box into the sock and zips the pocket. “Ride’s two minutes away. I have to go.”

I head off the panic rising in my throat. “Then we have two minutes to decide if fear drives or hope.”

She steps back, hugging arms around herself. “I’m not doing this.”