“Cohen, this isn’t a joke…” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose like I’m prepping for brain surgery.
Oh.
Sure.
Of course.
He holds my gaze, eyes bright.
And then he says it. His plan.
“You and I draw each other’s names. Ivy and Cam do the same—they’re already your accomplices. Then you convince Lina, your other best friend, to put aside her weird hatred of Sebastian for… the sake of Rae, right?
And you make sure Lina draws Sebastian.
Which means, when it’s Rae and Grant’s turn… they’re the only two left.”
He tops it off with a wink.
Tiny. Arrogant. Lethal.
I just stare at him.
Stunned.
Not so much because of the plan, but because…
…he remembered all the names.
All the details.
Every word I said.
And he really listened.
Damn it, something moves in my chest.
Something dangerous.
Something that should never, ever happen anywhere near him.
I do not like that feeling.
So I choose the safest option: I get mad.
I fold my arms and glare. “What do you get out of this?” I ask, ice-cold.
Subtitle:Try me, smartass.
He settles even more comfortably into the chair.
Long legs, crossed arms—biceps openly waging war on my sanity.
He’s too sure of himself, too smug.
“You’ll go on the Valentine’s reality show with me,” he says, “and pretend to be my steady girlfriend.”
I laugh.
