33. Rowan
33
ROWAN
Last night’s fantasy replays in my mind as I lie in the guest bed. I shouldn’t have touched myself in their house. But after fleeing my apartment, after the terror of those text messages from Dad promising he’d find me, I needed something to ground me.
So I closed my eyes and let myself imagine.
It started with Ryder—always Ryder first in my fantasies. His intensity, his silent control. The way he’d pin me down and force me to take what he gives. Then Maddox joining, his playful smile turning wicked as his hands would find places Ryder hadn’t claimed yet. Finally Brick, watching first, then taking charge, orchestrating us all with that natural authority that makes my knees weak.
All three of them. Around me. Inside me. Taking turns and taking me together.
It’s a fantasy I’ve had before, though I’d never admit it aloud. Too taboo. Too much like admitting I’m greedy, selfish, wanting too much. But in the quiet of their guest room, with fear pulsing through my veins alongside desire, I let myself imagine all of it.
I came with their names on my lips, shame and satisfaction mingling as I caught my breath. What kind of woman dreams of three men at once? What kind of woman runs to those same men when danger comes calling?
The kind who’s been running for months.
The kind who’s tired of denying what she wants.
I tossed and turned in bed after that, every creak in the unfamiliar house making me jolt awake. Dad’s voice ringing in my ears. At some point, exhaustion won out, dragging me into fitful dreams where I was either running from my father or running toward three men who somehow promised safety.
Morning light filtering through unfamiliar curtains brings reality crashing back. I’m in the Kane brothers’ house. I’ve fled my apartment. And I’ve slept with all three of them separately.
God, what a mess.
I force myself out of bed, pulling on the sleep shorts I packed in my hasty escape. A shower helps clear my head, but the anxiety remains—a tight ball in my chest that makes it hard to breathe. I need to tell them the truth. About Dad. About why I’m running. About why I came to them.
But first, coffee.
Their kitchen is exactly what I expected—clean, well-equipped, and masculine in its functionality. I find the coffee maker easily enough, grateful for this small moment of normalcy as the rich aroma fills the air. With my first sip, I try to sort through what I’ll say to them.
The truth feels impossible. Hey guys, I’m actually the daughter of the Vipers MC president, groomed to take over his operation, but I fled instead. Yeah, that’ll go over well.
I’m so lost in thought that I don’t hear Ryder until he’s already in the doorway, his presence filling the space in that quiet way of his. His hair is damp from the shower, his chest bare, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The sight makes my mouth go dry despite everything.
“Morning,” I say, lifting my mug in a small salute. “Hope you don’t mind. I figured coffee was communal territory.”
His eyes move over me slowly, taking in the tank top, the bare legs, the damp hair. I should feel exposed and vulnerable, but strangely, I don’t.
“Help yourself to anything,” he says, voice still rough from sleep.
The double meaning isn’t lost on me. Heat crawls up my neck as he moves past me to grab his own mug, his body close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
“You sleep okay?” he asks, something knowing in his tone.
“Better than expected,” I lie, avoiding his gaze. The thought of him hearing me last night, hearing his name on my lips, makes my pulse jump.
Footsteps from the hallway announce another arrival. Maddox appears in worn gray joggers, stretching his arms overhead in a way that makes his muscles flex. He stops when he sees me, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Well, good morning, princess,” he says, sauntering over to steal my mug right from my hands. He takes a sip, and grimaces. “Too much cream, not enough sugar. You and Ryder have the same terrible taste.”
“Better than your sugar with a splash of coffee,” Ryder mutters.
Maddox hands the mug back, his fingers brushing mine deliberately. “What’s for breakfast? I’m starving.”
“I can make something,” I offer quickly. “It’s the least I can do after barging in on you guys last night.”
“You’re not barging in,” comes Brick’s voice from the doorway. He’s fully dressed, unlike his brothers, though the sleeves of his Henley are pushed up to reveal forearms corded with muscle. “And you’re not cooking. You do enough of that at the diner.”
The diner. My chest tightens. “About that—my two months are up tomorrow. I should probably talk to you about my final payment and?—”
“Later,” Brick interrupts, moving to the fridge. “Food first. Everything else later.”
I watch as they move around the kitchen. Brick pulls out eggs and bacon. Ryder starts slicing bread. Maddox sets the table, complaining the whole time about being given the boring job.
“Sit,” Brick tells me, nodding toward the table. “Coffee’s not breakfast.”
I obey, oddly comfortable being ordered around in their space. The domesticity of the scene makes my heart ache—these three dangerous men making breakfast together, making space for me among them. It feels like a glimpse of something I never knew I wanted.
We eat in silence. Brick’s cooking is simple but perfect—eggs cooked exactly right, bacon crispy, toast golden. I eat more than I have in days, and the safety of their presence somehow unlocks my appetite.
“So,” Maddox says finally, leaning back in his chair. “I think we should address the elephant in the room.”
My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. This is it.
“Which elephant?” Brick asks dryly. “The one where she’s running from something serious enough to send her here in the middle of the night? Or the one where we’ve all been sleeping with her?”
The fork clatters to my plate. “I?—”
“Maybe the elephant where she was moaning all our names last night while getting herself off in our guest room,” Ryder says quietly.
My whole body goes hot, then cold. They heard me. Oh god, they heard me.
“I can explain,” I whisper, though I have no idea how to explain any of it.
“No need.” Brick’s voice is calm. Steady. “I think we all know where we stand.”
I look between them, searching for anger or judgment, finding none. “I don’t—I’m not sure what you mean.”
“It means,” Maddox says, leaning forward, “that we’re all on the same page for once.”
Ryder’s hand reaches across the table, covering mine. “All of us want you.”
“And you want all of us,” Brick finishes, his green eyes intent on my face.
The directness leaves me speechless. My deepest fantasy laid bare over breakfast. It should be mortifying. Instead, it feels like chains breaking, burdens lifting. The tension in the room shifts and transforms into something electric. Something inevitable.
“That’s…not how it usually works,” I say finally.
“Fuck usually.” Maddox grins. “When have we ever done anything the normal way?”
Brick leans forward, his elbows on the table. “Here’s how it’ll work. You stay here with us. You’re safer here anyway, with whatever threat you’re running from.”
“And the diner?” I ask, still processing the enormity of what they’re offering. “My debt?—”
“Is paid,” Brick states simply. “As of today, you don’t owe us anything.”
Maddox stands, disappearing down the hallway. He returns moments later with an envelope, which he slides across the table to me. “This is yours.”
With shaking hands, I open it. Inside is cash—five thousand dollars, neatly stacked. The exact amount of debt I thought I was working off.
“I don’t understand,” I say, confusion making my voice unsteady.
“We’ve been saving it,” Brick explains. “Every dollar you earned. Seed money for your bakery dreams.”
“But the bikes?—”
“Insurance covered most of the damage.” Maddox shrugs. “Besides, you’ve done more for the diner than we ever expected.”
“You’re not our employee anymore,” Ryder adds. “You’re our partner. Full benefits, equal profit share.”
Tears burn behind my eyes, spilling over before I can stop them. “Why would you do this for me?”
“Because you deserve it,” Brick says simply. “Because you belong here. With us.”
I blink through my tears, looking between them. I want to believe this is real, that I could have this—safety, security, partnership. Three men who want me as much as I want them.
“Now we need to know if you want this,” Brick says. “All of us. Together. Not just separately anymore.”
This is my choice. My decision. They’re offering me everything I never dared hope for.
“Yes,” I whisper, then stronger: “Yes. I want all of you.”
The room exhales collectively, as if they’d all been holding their breath. Maddox’s smile is triumphant. Ryder’s fingers tighten around mine. Brick’s expression remains steady, but something in his eyes softens.
“Tonight,” Brick says. “We’ll show you what that means tonight.”
My body responds instantly to the promise, heat pooling low in my belly.
“Tonight,” I agree.
My father’s threats still loom in the back of my mind. Danger hasn’t disappeared just because I’ve found something worth staying for. But for the first time since I fled San Francisco, I don’t feel alone.
I have them now. All of them.