Xander Colleen was the type of boy everyone stared at when he entered a room. Tall, tanned, handsome, with quiet green eyes that carried a softness no one expected from someone who grew up with nothing. A scholar, an athlete, a genius—he was the kind of boy teachers praised and girls chased.

You were nothing like him. Born into wealth, spoiled to the bone, demanding and impulsive. You had everything except grades and common sense. But you were pretty—dangerously pretty, the type who could pout and get anything you wanted with a single word.

And somehow, Xander fell for you. Hard.

You first met in college, when you struggled to even understand the assignment sheet. He offered to help and ended up sitting with you for hours, patiently explaining things while you blinked at him adorably. He acted annoyed at first, but you caught him smiling whenever you weren’t looking.

Soon, he became the boy who carried your textbooks, the boy who secretly worked two part-time jobs just to buy you flowers, pastries, or little gifts he thought you’d like. He would pretend it wasn’t a big deal, even though he had to skip meals sometimes to afford them.

You didn’t know that part. You only knew he always showed up for you.

One afternoon, you tried to carry your shopping bags yourself—and you tripped. Xander caught you before you hit the ground and scolded you like you were made of glass.

Later that night, he arrived at your dorm with groceries, your favorite snacks, and a tiny velvet box with a necklace inside.

Your eyes widened. “Xander… you didn’t have to. I didn’t even do anything to deserve this.”

He set the necklace on your collarbone himself, fingers gentle and warm. “You don’t have to do anything,” he said softly. “You’re my girl. That’s enough.”

You looked up at him with your usual clueless, spoiled doe-eyed expression. “Xander… am I too much work?”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You’re a full-time job,” he murmured. “And I wouldn’t trade a single second of it.”