I narrow my eyes, because there’s something just beyond the usual stubborn determinedness in her eyes. Something . . .
She starts to move away, and I grab her arm as I realize what that something is. “You’re scared.”
Sabrina scoffs. “Of what?”
I have no idea, but I do know her well enough to know what’ll spur her into action—the action I want.
I lean forward slightly. “You’re terrified that you can’t do it. That you can’t pretend we’re a couple without wanting it for real.”
This time I get a snort. “Reverse psychology? Really?”
I give her a slow, taunting smile. “Prove it. Prove that you’re not completely terrified you’ll fall in love with me.”
“Oh my God,” she says on a laugh, tugging her arm free. “That’s so not going to work on me.”
I shrug, letting my expression go deliberately skeptical as I sip my drink.
The silence stretches on, and she lets out an indignant huff. “You’re not that irresistible, you know. This whole I can’t break the little lady’s heart routine is a bit nauseating.”
I ignore this and go to her fridge, even though I’m not hungry. “Got anything to eat?”
Exactly as I expect, Sabrina stomps toward me, slaps her palm against the fridge door, and glares up at me. “You’re the last person I’d ever fall in love with.”
“Have you ever been in love?” I ask, a little curious.
“Of course not,” she says.
“You don’t believe in it?”
She bites her lip, as though unsure of her response. “Not lasting romantic love like you see in the movies, no.”
“Why is that excellent?”
“Because it means there should be no problem with you posing as my girlfriend.”
She laughs a little and rests the side of her head against the fridge. “You’re relentless.”
“And you’re stubborn. Seriously, though . . . What are you so afraid of?” I ask it quietly.
For a moment, her expression’s unreadable. Then she gives a slow smile and leans in slightly. “You know, for someone so decidedly antirelationship, you’re pretty obsessed with the idea of my falling for you.”
She’s clearly not going to answer my question, and I shove aside my disappointment. Figuring out what the hell makes Sabrina tick was never going to be easy. I’ve always known that.
“What can I say, the apocalypse fascinates me.” I lean a shoulder against the fridge, mirroring her posture.
“At least you acknowledge that it’ll be the end of the world before I feel anything other than tolerant loathing for you.”
“Or I you,” I say, lifting my glass in a toast.
She clinks her glass to mine, even as she frowns, a tiny line appearing between her dark eyebrows. “You really think I can’t do it? Spend a month as your companion without falling all over myself?”
I push away from the refrigerator and go to the counter, setting aside my drink. “Doesn’t matter what I think.”
She follows me, fingers wrapping around my wrist. “Could you do it?”
“Spend an entire month in my company without falling for my charms.” She says it mockingly, but the question is clearly a challenge.
I’ve never been good at backing down from a challenge, and one issued by her? Forget it.
“I think I’d manage.”
“You know,” she says, studying my face, “you’ve got me thinking.”
“Dangerous,” I mutter.
“Perhaps this could be good for us.”
My heart tightens in my chest as I realize that she’s actually considering going along with my plan. “Yeah?”
Sabrina nods. “This weird thing between us . . . the fact that we can’t coexist without tearing each other down or tearing off each other’s clothes—”
“For the record, I’m always a fan of the last one.”