Undeniably Married (Boston’s Irresistible Billionaires Book 4)

The plane starts to descend into Boston, and my stomach lifts like I’m flying down a rollercoaster. It’s not just the plane doing that. It’s what’s waiting for me at home that’s leading that charge.

Me: I need to come to your apartment and gather the rest of my things.

Brody: Oh, are you unblocking and speaking to me now?

Me: Only until I get my stuff. Then I’m blocking you again.

Brody: Real mature, Sorel. In fact, that’s how you’ve been through all of this.

Is he kidding me with that?

Me: You want to talk maturity? How about when you’re in a monogamous relationship, you’re actually monogamous?

Brody: I get that you’re hurt, and I know I fucked up, but I meant what I said to you. I love you. I never loved Eloise. It wasn’t like that between us. It was purely physical. She’s not who I want. You are. And instead of talking to me about it, you read those texts during our wedding and then ran off with Reyes. And then FUCKING MARRIED HIM!

Me: What are you upset about? Getting caught, losing me, or being publicly embarrassed by me getting married? Because if I had to guess, I’d say it’s the latter.

Brody: When are you returning home?

I smirk. Gotcha there, didn’t I? Though I am remiss to admit that getting married to Mason as a fuck you was immature. What can I say? I wasn’t of sound mind or body, and I’m certainly not the first person to do something dumb when they’re drunk. But I never would have been there in that position if it wasn’t for Brody’s cheating. And the fact that he’s not taking any responsibility for any of this is so telling.

Everything in our relationship was about him. It was me making concession after concession. I know I have culpability in that. I allowed it to happen. I didn’t see it for what it was. I thought because I loved him, that’s just what you do. But you only make those sacrifices if your partner does too. Mason sort of threw that in my face last night, but he wasn’t wrong.

And Brody never did that with me. Not once.

Me: My flight is landing now.

Brody: Then come and get your stuff after you land.

Me: Will you be there?

Brody: I haven’t decided yet. I’m not sure I’m ready to see you after what you did.

Me: Good. Same goes for me. If you give me two hours, it’ll be like I never lived there.

“Why do you look like you’re about to crack a molar?”

“Huh?” I start. Mason had been asleep. He kept me up half the night with a lot of hot, dirty sex. Today that’s all done with and Operation Three Months Until Annulment begins.

He sits up with a yawn and rubs at the top of his hair. Shifting toward the window, he glances out, noting that we’ve started our descent. “I can see your jaw clenching from here.”

“Oh. I was texting with Brody. I need to get my things from him.”

Now Mason’s jaw clenches, and he gives an absent nod. “I’ll go with you.”

I shake my head. “Serena is picking me up, and we’re going to do that together. She returns to Paris in a few days, and I want to spend time with her. Plus, I’m not looking for you to get arrested or mess up your throwing hand.” I raise a pointed eyebrow at him.

He leans forward and drops his elbows on his thighs. “One, it’d be worth messing up my hand for. Two, I don’t want you to see him. Three, I get that you want time with your sister before she goes back to Paris, but you’re still moving in with me.”

I mimic his pose, putting us closer together but still far enough apart with the thin table between us. “One, I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, though I do think it’s sweet and even a little sexy that you would. Two, I don’t want to see him either, and from the sound of his last text, he’s in the same boat with me, so I don’t think it’ll be an issue. Three, I know I’m still moving in with you, but if you think that means you get to call the shots with me and tell me what I can and cannot do, you’ve got another thing coming.”

He smirks at me. Freaking smirks. And his eyes wander all over me in a way I’ve grown familiar with over the last few days.

“Okay.”

My eyes bulge. “Okay?” I laugh incredulously. “That’s not what I thought you were going to say.”

“Would you like me to put up more of a fight? I can. Hell, I’m dying to. You already know how much I love picking you up, tossing you over my shoulder, and taking you how I want you. But you’re telling me you’ve got this, and I believe you.”

“You do?” I squeak. That’s how shocked I am.

“I do. I may not like it. I may want to jump all over it and call the shots as I do with everything else, but that’s not what you need from me right now. That said, I definitely want to kick his ass because he deserves it and then some, and if the opportunity presents itself, I still might. But okay. Do what you have to do, and if you need me, I’m here.”

I don’t know why he is, though. I don’t know what he’s getting out of this. It doesn’t make sense to me, but I don’t want to question it either. I can’t figure out Mason’s angle, and I don’t want to be distrustful of that. Mason feels like a gift I didn’t know I deserved. Is this what real friendship is? It’s terrifying and a lot annoying that I automatically question and distrust his intentions.

Except I think Mason is honest. I think he’s the real deal.

He’s younger than me. He’s cocky and arrogant and sexy as sin. On the surface, he’s everything I should stay away from. And I plan to. More because I’m not ready for anything else with anyone new, and that’s not what he’s after either, but who he is on the inside makes it easy to see him as more when seeing him as more isn’t an option.

“But remember this,” he continues. “You and I are undeniably married, and that makes you my wife and not his. You gave me the rule of no sex and not sleeping in my bed. My rule is no Brody. Or anyone else.”

Hmm. I sit back and fold my arms over my chest, ignoring the flutter I feel there. “Are you being territorial?”

“Damn right I am.”

“Does that rule extend to you?”

“No Brody? He’s not exactly my type. But his ex-fiancée definitely is.”

“Stop flirting and answer me.”

He stares straight into my eyes. “No one else.”

I shouldn’t care and I shouldn’t feel relief from that answer, but I do.

“Any other rules you have?” I ask.

He rubs at the back of his head and shrugs, the gesture making the muscles in his arms bunch in an annoyingly hot way. “Not that I can think of. You?”

“No.”

“You understand the press might stalk my building for a bit and follow us around. We have to appear like a couple. At least a couple trying to make something new work.”

“Yes. I know. I’ll manage even if the press is my least favorite thing.”

“How have you survived as a Fritz this long without them up your ass?”

“I’m boring. I don’t know.” I throw a cocktail napkin at him, making him chuckle. “Don’t look at me like that. I am.”

He shakes his head. “See, there I beg to differ. I’ve spent the last year hanging out with you and the forty-eight hours with you in several ways and in several positions. You’re not boring, princess.”

“Ugh. You and your sexy sex.”

“Nothing wrong with sexy sex. It’s my favorite kind.”

Mine too, but it’s also a troublemaker.

“I think you just need to get out of that mindset of labeling yourself as boring or uptight or however you like to frame yourself that isn’t necessarily positive. You can just be you without the labels, especially if you teach yourself to shrug off the fear that’s holding you back. You were close there for a moment, and then someone leaking one photo set you back a bit.”

I ignore what he’s saying because I can’t with that. I just can’t. He’s too perceptive, but he doesn’t get it. He’s twenty-eight. A football player. His life is so different from mine. Though I can’t help the tickle in the back of my throat his words provoke. Especially the part about being afraid.

Can you blame me? springs to my mind. Being quiet, being boring, being an introvert is safe, and safe is comfortable.

“To answer your original, non-sexually provocative question, I’ve been photographed with my family before. Especially at Abbot-Fritz events. You know this. You were in one with me a few months ago. That comes with being a Fritz.” I swallow as my ears pop. We’re close. The city is right outside the window. “I love my family and I love supporting them, but we’re famous because we’re billionaires, and that’s a crappy reason to be famous in my opinion. Nothing good comes from people solely having an interest in you because you’re rich. At least that’s my experience. It’s easy to stay away from the limelight, especially when Serena is your twin. She loves wearing couture she designs, being quoted in fashion magazines, and having her picture taken every chance she gets.”

“I’m shocked Brody didn’t go for her with all of that.”

The way he says that makes my stomach churn if for no other reason than what he’s implying is something I’ve already considered. Brody was only with me because I’m a Fritz. Because my family is next-level wealthy and famous, and with that, we have pull and connections. Pull and connections he wanted to utilize for his career.

He asked if I could pull strings for him. He asked if I could get him interviews with top network executives. I did a couple of times as my uncle Kaplan’s wife, Bianca, has a lot of friends and acquaintances in that world through the Abbot-Fritz charity she runs for us. I never thought much about it and didn’t hesitate to help him whenever I could.

“When I met Brody, Serena was with me. And so was her boyfriend of the moment. She also lives in Paris and has no plans to return to the States anytime soon other than for trips. Eloise and her fiancé introduced me to him at one of the Abbot-Fritz events, since her fiancé was friends with him.” I laugh. It’s bitter. “Think of that. Eloise’s fiancé was friends with Brody, and she introduced me to him and it’s possible they were already fucking each other.”

“He’s a dirtbag, and so is she. They deserve each other, and I’m glad you didn’t marry him.”

Mason’s not very good at keeping the vitriol out of his voice when he says that.

I grin. “Me too.”

His eyes linger on me with something unspoken behind them. Something I’m not sure I’m reading right. Something that almost looks like, I’m glad you married me instead, but that can’t be right.

The plane lands, and the moment it comes to a stop and the doors open, we both stand and stretch. It was a long flight home. Serena is over by the entrance of the private terminal, and she’s not alone. Wren and Tinsley are flanking her, waving at us.

“She brought back up,” I muse because Wren and Tinsley are scrappy, and between the three of them, they take zero shit from anyone.

Mason climbs down the narrow ladder to the ground and turns to offer me his hand to help me do the same. We retrieve our bags and exit through the terminal to greet them. Immediately, the three of them envelop me in hugs that already make me feel better.

“We have it all worked out. We’re all going with you to Brody’s,” Tinsley explains. “And then I’ll drive you back to our building and act as a bit of a cover.”

For a moment, I scrunch my nose only to remember that Mason and Stone are neighbors, which means that he and Tinsley are now my neighbors too. Even if just temporarily.

“I take it the press are hanging out once again in front of our building?” Mason questions.

“Yep,” Tinsley tells him. “But we’re on it. We’ve got it all covered.”

“Excellent. I’m going to meet Stone for a run. That should be fun, but it’ll be yet another diversion, so you should be fine getting into the building, especially if you go through the garage.”

I reach up on my toes and wrap my arms around him. I don’t even care about the spectators. He deserves a hug. He deserves a lot more than a hug, but right now, a hug is all I can give him. He hugs me back, though I can feel the question in his slightly stiff posture.

“Thank you, Mason. Thank you for being in the right place at the right time. Thank you for taking me to Vegas and for saying no and then saying yes. Thank you for not being a jerk when the shit hit the fan and messed up your life because of me. Thank you for getting me through what could have easily been one of the worst forty-eight hours of my life. Just thank you. For everything.”

He plants a tender kiss on my neck. “Mrs. Fritz-Reyes, I’m starting to realize there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

I step back, ignoring, well, all of that. “Let’s go get this over with,” I tell the girls.

“Remember what I said about Brody,” Mason reminds me, shifting his weight and appearing edgy as he cracks his knuckles. “Or, you know, I could come too.”

I shake my head. “I’ve got this. Remember?”

He sighs, visibly unhappy about that, but finally, he steps back. “Okay.”

I climb into Tinsley’s car. Time to end things with Brody once and for all.