Chapter 22
By Wednesday, Sabrina had reached a dangerous conclusion:
Lucas Cooper was becoming alarmingly domestic.
Not publicly.
Public Lucas still existed exactly the same way he always had.
Perfect smiles.
Effortless charm.
Magazine-cover-level composure.
But private Lucas?
Private Lucas had started showing up at her apartment with takeout and exhaustion under his eyes like her presence had quietly become part of his routine.
Which felt deeply threatening to Sabrina's emotional stability.
"You know," she said one evening while sitting cross-legged on her couch, "most fake boyfriends don't buy their girlfriends soup when they're sick."
Lucas glanced up from where he stood in her kitchen holding two mugs.
"You had a fever."
"You looked offended by it."
"You texted me 'I think I'm dying' at two in the morning."
"In my defense, I was dramatic and weak."
"You're dramatic healthy too."
Rude.
Sabrina narrowed her eyes at him while he walked back toward the couch.
He looked unfairly comfortable here now.
Like he belonged.
His hoodie hung loose over dark sweatpants instead of the painfully expensive clothes he usually wore publicly, and somehow that version of Lucas felt more dangerous than celebrity Lucas ever had.
Because this version was real.
Or at least real-er.
He handed her tea before sitting beside her.
Close enough that their knees brushed automatically.
Neither reacted anymore.
Which honestly said a lot about how bad things had become.
"You're staring," Lucas said calmly.
Sabrina blinked. "I'm sick. Leave me alone."
"You were staring before that."
She ignored him completely and took a sip of tea instead.
Unfortunately Lucas noticed everything.
It was deeply irritating.
Outside, rain tapped softly against the apartment windows while low music played quietly from Sabrina's speaker in the kitchen.
The atmosphere felt calm.
Warm.
Dangerously couple-like.
Lucas leaned back against the couch cushions afterward with visible exhaustion.
"You should sleep," Sabrina said quietly.
"So should you."
"I was asleep until someone interrogated me about taking medicine."
"You tried convincing me orange juice counted as medical treatment."
"It has vitamins."
"You're impossible."
Sabrina smiled faintly into her tea.
A comfortable silence settled between them.
The kind that no longer felt awkward.
Just easy.
And maybe that was the problem.
Because somewhere between fake dates and late-night drives and emotionally devastating rooftop jealousy, Lucas had become the first person Sabrina instinctively wanted around.
Which was terrifying.
Her eyes drifted toward him carefully.
Lucas had his head tipped back slightly against the couch now, eyes closed.
For a second Sabrina just watched him.
The exhaustion looked heavier lately.
Like he hadn't properly rested in weeks.
Maybe months.
His jaw was softer when he wasn't forcing public expressions.
His face calmer.
Human.
Not untouchable.
Just tired.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
"You do this a lot," she said quietly.
Lucas opened one eye slightly. "Do what?"
"Pretend you're okay when you're exhausted."
He huffed softly under his breath.
"Occupational hazard."
"That's not healthy."
"Neither is surviving on iced coffee and sarcasm."
"That feels targeted."
"It was."
She smiled despite herself.
Then Lucas looked at her properly.
And something shifted slightly in the room.
Not dramatic.
Worse.
Soft.
"You take care of people," he said quietly.
Sabrina blinked slightly.
"What?"
"You always notice when someone's overwhelmed." His gaze stayed on hers. "Most people around me only notice when I stop functioning publicly."
The honesty in his voice caught her off guard immediately.
Because Lucas rarely admitted things directly unless exhaustion lowered his guard.
Sabrina looked down briefly at the mug in her hands.
"That sounds lonely."
A quiet pause followed.
Then Lucas answered softly:
"It is."
The vulnerability in those two words hit harder than she expected.
Something painful twisted through her chest.
Before she could respond, Lucas's phone buzzed against the couch beside him.
The moment shattered instantly.
Lucas glanced at the screen.
And Sabrina immediately noticed the shift in his expression.
Annoyance.
Fatigue.
"What?" she asked carefully.
He locked the phone again immediately. "Nothing."
"Lucas."
He exhaled quietly through his nose before leaning his head back again.
"Claire."
Sabrina's stomach tightened automatically.
Still.
Even now.
Lucas noticed immediately.
"It's work-related."
"Sure."
His eyes opened again.
"You don't believe me."
Sabrina shrugged lightly, pretending indifference she absolutely did not feel.
"She's your ex-girlfriend, Lucas. I think suspicion is normal."
"She's attached to the campaign launch next month," he explained calmly. "The brand wants us both there."
That felt horrible instantly.
Sabrina hated that.
Hated how quickly insecurity crawled back into her chest.
Because Claire fit Lucas's world perfectly.
Elegant.
Polished.
Experienced.
The kind of woman who probably never cried over eyeliner.
Lucas studied her expression carefully now.
"You're doing it again."
"What?"
"That thing where you assume she matters more than you."
The directness of the statement startled her.
Sabrina laughed softly without humor.
"She makes more sense for your life."
Lucas's expression changed instantly.
Not amused anymore.
"Sabrina."
"She does."
"No."
"You dated her for two years."
"And?"
"And look at her." Sabrina gestured vaguely. "She belongs in your world."
Lucas stared at her for a long moment like he genuinely couldn't understand what she meant.
Then he leaned forward slightly, elbows resting against his knees.
"You know what's interesting?"
"What?"
"You still think I care about any of that."
His voice stayed quiet.
Steady.
"About what?"
"The image. The industry approval. The perfect celebrity relationship." His eyes locked onto hers. "You think that's what matters to me because it's what matters to everyone else around me."
Sabrina's breath caught slightly.
"But it's not."
The room felt suddenly too small.
Too warm.
Lucas looked at her for another second before saying quietly:
"You're the only place I've felt normal in a long time."
Her heart physically hurt.
Because he sounded serious.
Completely serious.
Neither moved.
The tension between them sharpened softly again.
Not explosive.
Worse.
Intimate.
Lucas reached out absentmindedly then, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
The gesture felt so natural it almost scared her.
Sabrina's pulse jumped instantly.
His fingers lingered briefly near her jaw.
And for one impossible second it felt like the entire room stopped breathing with them.
Then Lucas blinked once like he suddenly realized what he was doing.
And slowly pulled his hand away.
There it was again.
That hesitation.
That fear.
Sabrina hated it now.
Because she could feel him wanting to let go of it.
Wanting her.
But every time things softened too much, Lucas instinctively stepped backward emotionally.
And somehow that hurt worse now that she knew what he felt underneath it.
Later that night, after Lucas finally fell asleep on her couch halfway through a movie neither of them had been watching properly, Sabrina stood quietly in the kitchen staring toward him.
The apartment lights were dim.
The city outside blurred gold against the windows.
Lucas looked peaceful asleep.
Younger somehow.
Less guarded.
Her chest tightened painfully.
Because this wasn't fake anymore.
Not even close.
And worse?
She didn't think either of them knew how to stop it.