Riding Hard With My Hot Biker Stepbrothers

004

Brie's POV.

"You could've just texted," I said, shoving the phone into my pocket like that would erase the fact that I'd actually dialed his number, alone, in a hallway, three days after telling myself I'd never think about that night again.

"Where's the fun in that?" Phil pushed off the wall, unhurried, closing half the distance between us like it cost him nothing. "You called me, girlfriend. Not the other way around."

"I was going to hang up."

"Sure you were."

Heat crawled up my neck. "I don't even know why I still had it."

"Because you wanted an excuse." His voice dropped, low enough that it felt like it belonged only to the two of us, and the space between us shrank another inch without either of us moving. "Didn't you."

I opened my mouth to argue and found absolutely nothing to say, which was somehow worse than if he'd been wrong.

"For someone so composed at dinner," I managed instead, tipping my chin up, "you didn't say a word about actually knowing me."

"Would you have preferred I did?"

"No."

"Then you're welcome." The corner of his mouth curved, not quite a smile, more like the promise of one he was withholding on purpose. "Careful, though. My brothers don't have my restraint."

As if summoned, footsteps rounded the corner—Dalton first, then Aston, both of them slowing when they spotted us in the dim hallway, entirely too close together for two people who'd supposedly just met.

"Well, well." Dalton's grin was slow, delighted. "Look who found the fake girlfriend."

"Ex-girlfriend," I corrected, too fast.

"For now," Phil said, and something in his tone made my stomach drop in a way that had nothing to do with dread.

Aston leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed, watching the two of us with open curiosity. "So? Are we doing this or not?"

I looked between the three of them, the sudden shift in the air impossible to miss. "Doing what, exactly?"

Phil studied me for a long moment, the teasing edge falling away into something more measured, more deliberate. "You need a boyfriend to convince your ex you've moved on. I need something too." He didn't elaborate. "Three months. My terms."

"Three months?" My voice cracked on the word. "I said a few weeks, and in case you didn't notice, that expired THREE DAYS AGO."

"And I'm saying three months." He said it the way he probably said everything—like there was no version of this conversation where he didn't get exactly what he wanted. "Take it or leave it."

"Check your phone," Aston said. And I did.

A video popped up on my screen, and I tapped it to watch: Blake kissing the same redhead from Velvet Groove while he moaned my name.

My heart stung as I watched, tears clouding my vision. Before the tears could fall, I quickly turned my phone off and shoved it away.

Bastard, I thought. The gut he had, to moan my name. I'll make him pay.

"Three months," I heard myself say.

Something satisfied flickered across his face before he tucked it away again. "Good. One more thing."

"There's more?"

"You'll acknowledge them too." He nodded once toward Dalton and Aston, both of whom straightened at the mention like they'd been waiting for exactly this.

Phil didn't say anything else. He just watched, as if patiently waiting for it to click. I wouldn't be dating one, but three of my stepbrothers.

Wasn't I already going through enough s**t?!

"That's insane." I shook my head, looking between the three of them like they'd lost it collectively. "You want me to—what, pretend to date all of you? People are going to think I'm out of my mind."

"We're triplets." Phil said it simply, like it explained everything, like the words alone should've been enough. When my face stayed blank, he continued, patient in a way that made it worse. "We don't do anything separately. We never have. Not school, not the club, not pack business. The second people start believing there's a crack in that—that one of us matters more than the other two, that one of us can be pulled away from the others—that's exactly the opening they're waiting for."

"Opening for what?" I demanded. "You still haven't told me who they are."

Phil maintained a poker face, but every moment his jaw ticked, I could tell he was running out of patience. I forced the voice in my head to quiet down, taking steadying breaths.

“Fine.”

“Fine what?” Phil drawled, throwing a teasing glance. He was enjoying this far more than he should.

“I’ll acknowledge the two of them.”

“Good.” He nodded. "Now, prove it.”

My stomach dropped instantly as I looked at him. "Prove what?"

"That you've actually agreed to this, not just said the words." His eyes flicked towards his brothers. "Kiss them."

I blinked, taking turns staring at all three of them. "Excuse me?"

"Both of them." Phil said it like he was ordering a drink, like the request cost him nothing at all. "Right now."

“And if I don’t?”

Phil moved closer to me, closing in on me while Dalton and Aston took slow, predatory steps towards me.

“Brie.” His voice dropped an octave, sending chills down my spine. My back hit the wall. I was properly trapped now. Trapped between a wall and three dangerous, ruthless stepbrothers. “You still think you have a say in this, don’t you.”

Dalton’s grin came back slowly. Aston didn't smile at all, he just watched me coldly in a way that made my pulse stutter worse than Dalton’s smirk ever could.

"You're insane," I said, but my voice came out thinner than I meant it to.

"Probably," Phil agreed. "I’m still waiting."

I looked between the three of them and sealed my fate.