Page 28 of Fake

“They’re also just people. Come on. The faster we get this over with, the better.” I wrap an arm around her waist and draw Mina close as we near the front door. She tenses and peeks up at me, clearly uncomfortable. I get it, but we have a lie to sell.

I lean down and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. The intimate gesture sends a jolt of desire through me. I linger longer than I expect. Longer than I should.

“Game face on, Hot Mess,” I whisper, breathing in her citrus perfume. “Time to pretend you like me.”

“Believe me,” she whispers back, “my game face has been on since lunch, Sweet Prince.” Her smile says I’m the love of her life, though her eyes look mildly murderous.

We pass through the foyer into an open floor plan barely large enough to fit my extended family. My cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers and sister all greet me, calling out happy birthday and raising glasses as we pass. Inevitably, their smiles fade when they see Mina. She’s wildly overdressed. To their eyes, the epitome of the shallow women I’ve been swearing were for Dom, instead of me. My parents catch sight of us, exchange a concerned glance, then quickly cross the room. I get the distinct impression they’re running defense.

Mom wraps me in a tight embrace, tossing Mina a polite though chilly smile. She smells like lilacs and her silver-blonde hair is swept off her shoulders in a messy updo. Even though she’s wearing jeans and a loose-fitting linen top, she pulls off an understated sophistication I’ve always appreciated. Mom gives me the onceover, motherly love glistening in her blue eyes before she cups my cheeks, the star tattoo on her wrist blurring in front of me.

“Happy birthday, Nator Tot! I was just starting to wonder about you. You’re not the kind of guy who runs late.”

Fuck me.

“Mom. Please. With the nickname.”

I glance Mina’s way, silently begging her not to have heard it.

The wicked grin lifting her lips says she not only heard it, but she’ll have no qualms dragging that arrow from her quiver if the need arises.

Dad gives me a back thumping hug and wishes me a happy birthday, his gaze flicking to Mina. He’s not happy to see her, though he’d never let her get wind of that. He spent too much time feeling unwelcome in some of his foster families to pass that feeling on.

“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Mina Blake. Mina, these are my parents, Collin and Harlow West.”

I brace for the gushing. The teary-eyed revelations of a lifelong fan that shift the atmosphere from cordial to awkward in a heartbeat.

I know all your music by heart!

Your songs are the soundtrack to my life!

I have the lyrics from Ice Princess tattooed on my ass!

It’s one of the reasons I dread bringing anyone to meet my parents. Apparently, it can be easy to forget they’re human, just like the rest of us.

To her credit, Mina keeps it together. “It’s a genuine pleasure to meet you both,” she says, then lets out a shuddering breath, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear then crossing and uncrossing her arms before letting them fall uselessly to her side. “I grew up listening to you guys and have heard such wonderful things about you from Nathan. You have a lovely home, by the way.”

Fidgeting notwithstanding, she’s cool. Calm. Collected. The perfect blend of recognition, admiration, and levelheadedness. Nothing like the Hot Mess I’ve come to know and dread. The four of us chat easily for a few minutes until my cousins Angela, Micah, and Nick join us. The men run big in my family, and Micah, Nick, and I prove that rule. Micah is physically the biggest, with a personality to match. His dark hair and eyes make him look more imposing than he actually is—though he does run into burning buildings for a living, so what do I know.

“I didn’t know you were bringing a date,” he says, tossing an arm around my shoulder in that way that used to signal an incoming noogie.

I duck out of reach, glaring to remind him I outgrew that more than a decade ago. “I thought I’d surprise you. Mina and I…we’re…”

And this is the part where I lie to the people I love most in the world. Oddly enough, deceit does not roll off my tongue.

Thankfully, Mina doesn’t share my crisis of conscience.

“We’re having a lot of fun together.” She lays her head on my shoulder and grins like she’s infatuated.

According to the chain reaction of worried glances passing around us like some psychic game of telephone, the statement doesn’t sit well with my family. Given that they think I’m fucking a new woman every night, she could have said she’s using me for money and it would have gone over better.

“How did you two meet?” Angela asks with a careful smile my way.

“I’m Nathan’s interior designer,” Mina replies, helpful as ever. “We just clicked from the moment we met, didn’t we, Sweet Prince?” She beams adoringly into my eyes.

“We sure did.” I cup her cheek while I fight the urge to growl. She’s enjoying this too much. “The chemistry between us was immediate.”

And by chemistry, I mean hatred and loathing.

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