Billionaire’s Toy by Ann Lister

What do you give a man who has the money to buy everything … literally?
Yourself.
That is, if by some miracle he’d ever see you as anything other than his best friend.

Jake: I’ve been in love with him since he was a pimply-faced, preppy boy. Okay, that description isn’t exactly accurate—he’s always been gorgeous. Now, he’s an uber-rich millennial and takes my breath away every time we share the same space.
Who am I talking about? My best friend, Barrett.
The man who I’ve known I wanted to share my life with since the age of fourteen. Now that we’re older, I want him in ways I know aren’t possible.
And why? Because I’m bisexual, and he’s straight.

Barrett: My fortieth birthday is in a few days and my good-intentioned best friend wants to throw me a party with all of our friends, but that’s not what I want.
Full disclosure? I want a private party with Jake. One that has a no-clothing theme and involves a big bed.
That kind of sounds as though I want my best friend. You wouldn’t be wrong about that. I’ve been in love with him since before I understood that it was okay to have feelings for another guy. He was my first love and I want him to be my forever.
The problem? Jake doesn’t see me that way. Never has … and he never will.