Billionaire Next Door

You ever meet someone and have that immediate click? That was Kayla and me. First day at our first teaching jobs and we both just knew we were going to be best friends forever.

And we are.

She does a great job keeping me down to earth—a skill I appreciate even more now that I’m a billionaire.

Except lately, it’s like she’s pulling away.

It started with her spending more time with my sister instead of hanging out with me. And now she’s starting to date the youth pastor?

It could be that I’m a little jealous. Seems like everyone is falling in love except me. But I don’t think that’s it.

Because it feels like I’m in danger of losing a lot more than my best friend and I don’t know how to make it stop.

Love might be a choice, but some choices are off limits.

They say opposites attract—and I’m not going to disagree. In fact, I’d be doing my best to see if the attraction was mutual if not for one little thing.

She’s my best friend’s little sister.

And since she and her brother are close, she’s become the honorary sister for all the guys in our group.

But I don’t see her as a sister.

At all.

She’s funny and smart.

And gorgeous.

But I don’t want to make it weird with the guys, so I figure I’m going to leave it be. And if enlisting her help to plan a fundraiser for my job is a convenient excuse to spend time alone with her? So what?

The only person I’m hurting is me.

Jenna and I have been friends since college.

Not besties or anything. Just the kind of friend you hit up when you want to go to a party but don’t want the pressure of a date.

She’s fun. Independent. And she gets me.

Which is probably why we made a pact and ended up dating casually.

The kiss was completely out of left field. And so was the ridiculous pact to get married if we were still single in our thirties.

Neither of us have ever mentioned that pact again.

But man, a lot of years have passed and I can sometimes still feel her lips on mine. Now that she’s going to be renovating my house, it could definitely be a problem.

The whole pact thing might have been dumb, but would it really be such a bad idea for us to get together?

One of the things I’ve been looking forward to since opening my scuba shop is leading groups to dive in all the amazing spots around the globe. The Galapagos and Great Barrier Reef are calling.

First things first, though. I figure we’ll start off with the Caribbean.

Which is why I’m headed down to spend some time scouting resorts and dive spots on the various islands. I’ve chartered a yacht, complete with a captain who, I’m told, knows everything there is to know about diving down here.

Of course, when I booked the trip, I pictured a grizzled old pirate at the wheel. What else was I supposed to imagine when I was told their name was “Sonny”? Imagine my surprise when I get to the dock and the captain is definitely not a man.

Sunny—short for Sunshine—is the best there is. And she’s got at least ten years on me, so it’s not like there can be anything romantic. Older women have never been my vibe.

So I’ll spend the time with her, alone on the boat, and soak up all the things she has to teach me. And do everything in my power to ignore just how good she looks while she does it.

It’s only three weeks.

What can go wrong?

I never questioned my decision to marry Faith the day she turned eighteen.

She needed to get out of her situation at home and, at nineteen, I already knew everything about everything, so in my mind it made perfect sense. We’d been pals for years.

I loved her.

She had no idea.

But she was desperate for somebody to rescue her, and a marriage of convenience with me was a better—safer—choice than anything else she could find.

Since I lived away at college, no one even had to know. It worked great until the end of the semester.

And then she walked out.

And I let her.

I occasionally do some digging, just to check that she’s okay. And every now and then I think about the divorce papers I drew up but never sent.

Now she’s here. Literally on my doorstep. Begging me, once again, for help.

And I hate that I still love her.

Even after fourteen years.