So I Brought My Billionaire Boyfriend Home for Christmas

Mason, the boy I’d grown up with, had always watched every penny. Even when we went to Dunkin’ for coffee, he made me pay him back for mine. Our parents always teased him about it, saying he was saving up for my engagement ring. I thought so, too. Until I came across his female best friend’s Instagram. “This idiot lost another bet to me. Guess I’ll take those limited-edition sneakers off his hands.” “Who gives someone a MacBook for their birthday? This guy really has no idea how to be romantic…” My birthday present, meanwhile, had been a necklace he’d bought online for $9.99, with free shipping. At our families’ Christmas dinner, someone teased Mason again. “You’ve been saving up for Chloe’s engagement ring for years. Got enough yet?” My mom beamed. “No need to keep saving! Chloe’s boyfriend is coming over tomorrow!” Mason’s face darkened. “What boyfriend? How come I didn’t know about this?” … “Baby, just a little longer.” Everett Hayes had his arm around my waist, his voice low and husky. “We’ve been kissing forever,” I protested softly. He kissed me again. “You’re going home for Christmas, and I won’t get to see you. Let me kiss you a little longer.” He was usually so reserved and self-controlled, but when we were alone, his intensity left me helpless. His kisses had me blushing all the way to my ears when my phone suddenly rang. I glanced at the screen. Mason Reed, my childhood friend. Everett took his time straightening the hem of my shirt. “Go ahead.” I stepped onto the balcony and answered. Mason spoke immediately. “Chloe Bennett, seriously? So if I don’t call you, you just forget I exist? Still giving me the silent treatment?” His tone was accusatory. I frowned. “Did you need something?” “What do you mean, did I need something? I call you out of the kindness of my heart, and this is what I get? Christmas break’s almost here. My uncle’s driving to Boston to pick me up, and your mom said the train you wanted to take was sold out. Want a free ride or not?” A woman’s voice came through the phone. “Mason, is that really how you try to win a girl over? As your dating coach, I’m about ready to take over for you.” Her again. Riley Brooks, Mason’s female best friend—and the reason he and I had fallen out months ago. “Stay out of it,” Mason told her. “I don’t need you coaching me.” I looked through the glass door. Everett was sitting by the coffee bar, his long fingers curled around the handle of a cup. Steam drifted past his face. “Hello? Chloe, are you still there?” “I don’t need a ride from you. Someone’s taking me home.” I didn’t want to explain any further. He would only start asking endless questions and waste my time. “Who’s nice enough to drive you all the way to Maine? Don’t tell me you mean the train engineer.” Mason laughed at his own joke. “My boyfr—” “Stop being stubborn,” he interrupted. “You don’t get a free ride every day. Come home with me first. You can go back to giving me the cold shoulder afterward, okay? East campus parking lot, day after tomorrow. Gotta go.” He hung up before I could agree to anything. Back inside, Everett handed me a cup of honey lemon tea. “All done?” he asked calmly. “Mm-hmm.” I took a sip. The warm sweetness spread over my tongue, easing some of my irritation. “Was that the childhood friend you told me about?” I’d mentioned Mason to Everett. Our families were close, and our parents often joked about us getting married. In high school, Mason had even told me, quite seriously, that he would propose after graduation. I pressed my lips together. “Yes. That was him.” Everett caught my wrist and gave it a gentle tug. Before I knew it, I was sitting in his lap. “Five minutes on the phone. What took so long?” I played with his fingers. “He wanted me to ride home with him in his uncle’s car.” His brow tightened, and I quickly added, “But don’t worry. I told him no.” Only then did a faint smile appear on his lips. “Good girl. Why would you need a ride from him when you have me?” I kissed his lips. “Your reward.” “Could I have a little more?” He held my waist and shifted me so I was straddling his lap. His warm breath brushed my skin, and the pressure I felt beneath me made me melt against him, my breathing turning uneven.

I had an early class the next morning, so Everett took me back to my dorm before I even started yawning. I swiped my student ID to get into the building, carrying the late-night food he’d picked up for all four of us on the way. “Chloe, you’re back!” “More food! Your boyfriend is so thoughtful.” All three of my suitemates came rushing out of their rooms, their eyes going straight to the food. “By the way, that childhood friend of yours waited downstairs for ages last night.” “Are you sure he was looking for me?” “Positive. I went out to grab something to eat, and he asked me where you were. I didn’t tell him, though.” I sighed. “I have no idea what his problem is this time.” “Are you two still fighting?” one of them asked. “I wouldn’t call it fighting. I have a boyfriend now. I don’t want to be so close to Mason anymore.” Before bed, Everett sent me a picture he’d taken after his shower. His robe hung loosely open, showing off an unfairly gorgeous chest. He claimed he was just letting me know he was ready for bed. “Good night, baby.” A cute good-night sticker popped up right after it—one he’d saved from me. I smiled, my mood instantly lifted. “Good night.” The following morning, I’d barely stepped out of my dorm when Mason stopped me. “Chloe, wait.” “It was just a necklace I bought online. Are you really going to hold it against me this long?” He sighed as though I were the one being difficult. “If you think it’s too cheap, I won’t buy you anything like that again. Isn’t that enough?” He was carrying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich. “I brought you breakfast. Don’t be mad anymore, okay?” It had happened six months ago, and only now was he asking me to get over it. “Mad about what?” I said flatly. “I have nothing to be mad about. And I don’t need breakfast. I already ate.” Just then, someone came out of the dorm behind me. His best friend, Riley. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. “Aw, look at you being thoughtful! Bringing breakfast for your best buddy?” She rose onto her toes and hooked an arm around his shoulders with practiced ease. I’d first met Riley at Mason’s birthday party. Before that, I’d often heard him say he’d spent all night gaming with a buddy at a friend’s apartment. It simply hadn’t occurred to me that the buddy was a woman. When she learned that our parents had been joking about us getting married since we were kids, Riley burst out laughing. “You actually took those jokes about getting married when you were kids seriously? It’s not 1950.” That had annoyed me. “Is it really that funny? If you can’t be civil, you don’t have to say anything.” She immediately held up both hands. “Sorry. I’ve got no filter. I’m so used to joking around with Mason that I don’t always think before I speak.” “That’s not ‘having no filter.’ That’s just rude.” But Mason turned to me. “Chloe, Riley isn’t like other girls. She’s laid-back. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” Later, Riley came over to apologize again. She followed me on Instagram and asked me to follow her back. Only afterward did I realize she’d done it on purpose. She’d wanted me to see those posts. And they had shocked me, just as she’d intended. “This idiot lost another bet to me. Guess I’ll take those limited-edition sneakers off his hands.” “Who gives someone a MacBook for their birthday? This guy really has no idea how to be romantic…” In her photos, Mason was generous and extravagant. He lost a bet and sent her hundreds of dollars without hesitation. He gave her limited-edition sneakers just as easily. For her birthday, he’d even bought her a high-end MacBook. Until then, he’d insisted we split the bill whenever we went out, even for a cup of coffee. His gifts to me were always cheap things he’d picked up without much thought. My birthday present was a gold-plated knockoff of a designer necklace: $9.99, with free shipping. I still remembered that day in high school when our parents had teased him, asking whether he was so frugal because he was saving for my engagement ring. Mason had looked at me seriously and nodded. “Yeah. When I propose to Chloe, I want to get her a decent ring.” Everyone had been delighted, especially my parents. After that, they’d treated him even more warmly and put extra thought into his birthday and Christmas gifts every year. I’d never forgotten what he said. Until I saw Riley’s posts and realized what a fool I’d been. When we were little, his dad’s small business had gone under, and my family had often invited Mason over for dinner. I’d regularly used my allowance to buy him his favorite treats, too. His dad eventually started another business, but Mason had supposedly gotten into the habit of watching every penny. Apparently, he was only careful when it came to me. Later that night at his birthday party, Mason got drunk. He must have forgotten I was still there. “She’s liked me since we were kids,” he said with a laugh. “And I told her I’d propose after graduation. She’ll wait for me. Why would I spend all that money trying to win her over?” His roommate hurried to smooth things over. “Don’t listen to him. He’s drunk.” So that was how he’d seen our relationship all along. I was angry and hurt. When he sobered up, I threw the necklace back at him. “You’re so generous with everyone else, but I get whatever’s cheap and easy. If you like her, just ask her out. Why pretend she’s your buddy?” “I don’t like her like that. She’s always just been a friend.” Mason acted even angrier than I was. “I gave her those things because her family doesn’t have money, and she has to work. Looking at her reminds me of myself as a kid. I use bets and birthday presents as excuses to help her without hurting her pride.” “What about me? Don’t I deserve a thoughtful gift? Just because you know I like you and believed your promise, I’m supposed to keep making allowances for you?” Mason looked at me as if I were speaking a different language. “Your family isn’t poor like hers. Whatever you want, your parents can buy it for you. Why are you keeping score?” “Chloe, can you stop being so unreasonable?” I knew I wasn’t going to get through to him, so I stopped engaging with him. I only answered his messages occasionally, and even then, my replies were curt. I felt miserable during those weeks and often went for walks along the Charles River. One day, I was walking and crying when I noticed a car on the road beside me, slowly keeping pace. It was so suspicious that I stopped crying, too frightened to think about anything else. That was when Everett appeared. He was the man in the car. He’d seen me crying as I headed toward the river and worried I might hurt myself, so he’d slowed down and stopped to ask if I needed help. Later, I learned he’d graduated from Kingswell, the university I attended. Everything else had followed from there.