I opened the front door to find my scowling mother and Eli with his orange cat clawing at his back. We had come to an agreement to keep the demon cat out of my house. They probably thought that I wouldn't make a fuss because Arty was here. Jokes on them. Arty wasn't real. I could make all the fuss I wanted.

       I'm sure my mother would have made a fuss of her own about making her wait. I could tell she wanted to. But she wouldn't in front of Oliver. The moment black eyes fell on Oliver, her scowl disappeared, replaced by her signature, unreadable smile.

     "Arty this is my mother Zaina and my brother Elias," I introduced quickly. I had bigger concerns I wished to address. "Mom, Eli, this is Arty. What's Gizmo doing here?"

      My mother barely had time to shake Oliver's hand, before she was scowling at me. "Really, Yasmine?"

      "You know the cat and I don't get along."

      Beside me Oliver coughed, failing to hide his amusement.

      "You said he was looking for a cat and Giz is pregnant—"

      "Please don't try to pawn Satan's spawn on him."

     Mom's lips twitched, smile tense. "And with all the couples tonight, Elias didn't want to be alone."

      "You're alone."

      With an exasperated sigh, she pushed past me, into the house. "My partner is also coming."

     Partner? The guy we met at the steakhouse? "The baseball player?"

      "No." Growing increasingly annoyed she shot me what I knew to be the not in front of the guest look. "The tattoo artist."

     "Oh, Dylan."

      "No, Yasmine. Sean!"

      Sean... Who was Sean? Was he the guy who took Elias to the trampoline park? I thought it wise not to question it further.

     "Ah," I feigned remembrance. "Yes, Sean. I look forward to meeting him."

     About to remove her wool jacket, she paused. She spun around and smacked me lightly on the shoulder. "You've already met him!"

     I didn't miss Oliver's soft chuckle. I frowned at my mother. She hadn't introduced me to anyone in a while. I heard stories of lovers, but the last I was introduced to a boyfriend was years ago...

      "Sean, Sean!" I finally exclaimed. "Sean from five years ago? Large, bald Sean?"

      A faint blush painted her cheeks as she nodded. She tried to busy herself, finding a spot for her purse before walking towards the kitchen. She was looking for a distraction, a change of subject.

      "It's not a big deal." She was playing it cool, but I knew her better than she thought.

     "I love Sean," I said genuinely. If there was a man who could handle my mother, it was him. I never understood why they ended things. I was thrilled to hear that they were giving it another go.

      "I know," my mother hummed, still nonchalant. Eagerly she searched the kitchen counters. "Where do you need me?"

      I sighed, looks like we were dropping the Sean subject.

     "The meal's pretty much done, another forty-five minutes in the oven... And no need for tinkering," I added quickly. "Ol—Arty is a chef, he knows what he's doing."

     "A chef?" my mother questioned. Crap. That had just slipped out. She didn't look surprised, as if she was expecting discrepancies in my story. "I thought you were an engineer."

      Oliver barely hesitated; easily coming to my rescue. If I was paying him, he'd have already earned himself a raise. "I do both. I'm working in a restaurant until my apprenticeship ends. Engineering school ain't cheap."

      And the question terror began. Question after question was shot Arty's way, but Oliver handled each one with grace. He had clearly done his research on engineering. Mom was easily fooled by his charm, and I knew by those sparkling eyes that she was already planning our wedding (a wedding that would never happen). She was convinced the fake boyfriend was real. Elias on the other hand was not. Not one bit. He had yet to bring it up, but I knew the meaning behind those harsh framed green eyes. He suspected. He was gathering data. He would analyze our every move, until he was sure. And once he was satisfied with his gathered proof, he would speak up. He loved to be right.

       I tried to throw him off, I stood closer to Oliver than I usually would. It was probably no use. Eli would study the way my hand twitched, or gaze flickered and know I was hiding something. He watched too much True Crime.

      Green eyes remained fixed on Oliver and me throughout the entire supper. When I noticed that he paid special attention when Gizmo walked by Oliver, I grew even more guarded. At first, I had paid his studious observations no bother. I figured he was just making sure the demon cat was behaving, that thing was known to leave some nasty scratches. But then I saw Eli bend down. Slipping the feline, a treat, he pointed her Oliver's way, prompting her to walk. I knew that look. This was a test. But what was he testing? How could this bring him any proof in terms of the fake relationship? I sat straighter in my chair, Chris' voice fading as I watched the scene unfold.

       Caught up in his conversation with Sean and Chris, Oliver didn't notice the cat until it she brushed up against his leg. Inching away from Gizmo, Oliver grimaced briefly before laughing at a joke Sean cracked. I completely missed the joke, suddenly on high alert. Why had he grimaced? Natural instincts? Oblivious to Elias and I's burning gazes, Oliver fidgeted with his nose. It was only then that I noticed his subtle sniffling and red eyes. Oh no...

       "You're allergic to cats," Elias declared. Having interrupted the conversation, loudly, everyone turned his way.

      "Who is?" mom questioned.

      "Arty."

      On cue everyone switched their gaze from Elias to Oliver. My mother looked like she was going to correct him, but then she saw the sniffling. It was the first moment I saw Oliver panic. He hesitated, but there was no use lying. He was caught red eyed.

      "Yes," he finally admitted, "I am allergic to cats."

      "But Yasmine said you were looking for a cat." Zaina turned my way, scowl burning with accusation. Uh oh. I really had faith that I could have held the act longer than a few hours.

      I barely had time to panic, Oliver recovered rapidly. "I was looking for a hypoallergic cat." A genius that man was.

      Mom nodded, features softening. I was off the hook with her, but Elias still wasn't buying it.

      "You want a cat that bad?" Elias queried. Was he really questioning a man's interest in cats when he had brought his to a birthday supper?

      "I think they're chill." Oliver shrugged a shoulder.

      "And don't forget chick magnets," Sean added across the table.

      Oliver chuckled. "If I'm being honest, I was definitely going for the chick magnet." Strangely he sounded sincere. "I was hoping it would give me an excuse to visit a certain veterinarian."

     My brow twitched. He was smooth, I'd give him that. I tried to force a look of delighted surprise, hoping it would satisfy my brother.

     "You knew Yasmine before the blind date?" Mom asked not in an interrogatory way, but genuine curiosity. She was buying every word he spoke.

     "I met her a few years ago. I'm friends with Lada's husband, Mark. I don't think Yasmine remembered me, but she definitely caught my attention."

     I smiled again. Damn, he was good. He seemed so genuine; no wonder mom was eating it up.

     "Good things take time." Sean smiled at my mother. "You got yourself a good one, Yaz." He grinned my way before standing to poor himself a drink.

     Whiskey poured; he came back to the table with his glass raised. "A toast," Sean suggested. "To new friendships and the birthday boy."

      Glasses raised everyone toasted with him. Elias, Oliver, and I toasting with apple juice. With their blossoming bromance, Sean was dissatisfied with Oliver's drink.

      "Let me make you a drink," he insisted, already walking to the bar. "Whiskey or rum?"

     "Oh, that's alright—"

     "I insist." Again, Sean made way for my alcohol cabinet.

     "I have to drive home," Oliver tried.

     With a chorus of signs from the table (mainly from Sean and Chris who were developing quite a liking to Oliver), Sean sat back down.

     "You could always stay over." The words slipped out. I was used to making the offer when my friends visited. I was beginning to view Oliver as a friend, so the offer came naturally. The quirked brows on my mother's face made me wish that I had thought my words through. Oliver was equally surprised, but he made an effort to hide it.

     "You sure?" he asked tentatively.

     I nodded. It was already getting late, and my family didn't need to know that he would be sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms. "Yeah, go ahead," I laughed. "Get drunk with Sean and Chris, but only if you want." No forcing alcohol on anyone, in my house.

     Sean and Chris cheered, clambering to their feet to prepare shots. Laughing at the men's antics, Dina and I were startled by Elias' loud "Ahah!"

     "Elias," mom chided, also having jumped in her seat.

     "I don't buy it," he said, nose high as it always was when he knew that he was right.

     "You don't buy what?" Mom scowled.

     "Their relationship." He looked between me and Oliver. "Yasmine looks uncomfortable; she's always shying away from his touch. I don't believe the cat story, and they were both surprised that she offered to let him stay over as if that's not a normal boyfriend girlfriend thing to do."

      Mom fell silent. She knew the kid was a genius. She was considering his theory. Before the wheels in her head spun too much, Oliver spoke up. "Yasmine doesn't like public displays of affection."

      "And whether he stays the night or not is none of your business," I added. "We've only been dating two weeks."

     "Another good point," Elias answered smugly. "You're not the type to bring a boy home so soon."

      "How would you know?" I retorted. "This is the first boy I've ever brought home."

     "Fair enough," he conceded. "But look at how close Dina and Chris are sitting compared to you."

      "Again, two weeks."

       "I still don't believe it. I'm surprised you're buying it," Eli addressed our mother. "You're too excited to see clearly."

       A storm of emotions flashed across her face. She wanted to believe me. But she saw Elias' logic. Everyone was silent as we waited for her response. Focused on the anticipation, waiting impatiently to hear her opinion for once in my life, I nearly jumped out of my seat when the doorbell rang. I jumped up both with startled surprise and eagerness for a distraction. If Eli dug any deeper into the interrogation, I feared he'd pull out a math test, and expect Oliver to ace it.

      "I'll get it!" I scrambled out of my chair and rushed to the door. Anything to save me from this tension.

      Opening the front door, I scowled at the figure of a blonde walking away. With bell-bottom jeans and cowboy boots, I didn't recognize the woman. Still, she must have knocked at my door for a reason. Though I called after her multiple times, she only turned around when she reached her car. Pulling a bag through her open Chevrolet window, she narrowed her eyes at me.

     "Are you Yasmine?" she asked.

     "Yes?" I frowned. "Do I know you?"

     "I'm Macey," she snarled.

      Macey? That sounded familiar...

     "Is Oliver here?"

      Oliver? Oh no. Not that Macey.

      I only nodded my head, still careful not to let my family hear Arty's real name. All bark. No bite. That's what Oliver had said.

     Macey snarled again, and before I could react, she pulled something from the bag and threw it at me. The egg narrowly missed my head, splattering against my door frame. I wasn't so lucky with the second one. I turned back around just in time for it to crack against my forehead. Yellow yolk dripped from the top of my hairline down to my nose and onto my chin. One more egg splattered against my chest before she jumped in her car.

      "Don't forget I had him first, bitch!" Without another word, she sped away.

     Mouth agape, I blinked, completely frozen until the red car was long out of sight. I had no words. My brain could barely keep up with what had just happened. Did I really just get egged on my own porch? Egged by my fake boyfriend's ex-girlfriend?

     Dina's poorly covered giggles brought me back to reality. Turning on my feet, I was met with six pairs of eyes. Dina was shaking with laughter, Chris chuckling quietly along with her. Sean's brows were perked curiously, and my mother's jaw had fallen as slack as mine. Finally, my gaze landed on a startled and apologetic looking Oliver.

     "No bite, eh?" I asked my fake boyfriend.

     Olive grimaced, shrugging hopelessly.

     "Oh my god," Elias grumbled clutching his chest. "I think I was wrong... That never happens!"

     "Wrong?" I questioned naively, still blinking yolk from my eyes.

     "About your relationship," he said plainly. "Even you wouldn't fake that!"

     I snorted, laughing at the irony. I couldn't help it, the giggles escaped freely. I laughed until my sides ached, until everyone else joined in, even though we were laughing for different reasons. I had a feeling that this would be the most ridiculous thing I had gotten myself into.

      After my well needed shower, there were no other impromptu egg attacks. It was one of the best birthday parties we had in a while. There was much to celebrate. It was a great time, and I had to admit that a tipsy Oliver Mattie was quite entertaining.

     Time flew that night, and before I knew it, Dina drove everyone home in her new minivan, and only Oliver and I remained. I left him with a pair of borrowed pyjamas before heading for the guest room with extra blankets.

      Showing a good amount of ankle as my pants were just a few inches too short for him, Oliver posed in the doorway. I pursed my lips comically at the way he attempted to show off the purple stripped pyjama set.

     "You may as well keep those," I teased as I pulled the sheet over the mattress. "Now that I've seen how well you can pull them off, I could never compare."

     Oliver grinned and posed again. "But nothing will compare to yolk dripping off your face. I've got to say the scrambled look did wonders for you."

      Sheet placed, I laughed. Genuine laughter turned into nervous laughter when I turned to find him behind me. Startled I let him take the quilt under my arm, making no move to help him with it. That look. That small smile was dangerous. It occurred to me then that it might have sounded like I was flirting. I almost recoiled. I was just being friendly. This is how I acted with everyone.

     Taking a subtle step back, I tried to act casual. "Quinn's never going to let me live that down."

     Oliver laughed, studying my face closely. "Sorry about that again." He drew his thumb against my forehead, where the second egg had hit and left a scratch. "It even left a mark. I can't imagine that felt very good."

     I rubbed my forehead to replace his finger, forcing a smile. Oliver frowned. Quinn had warned me that he was perceptive.

     "You alright?"

     "Of course." I spoke too quickly.

     He studied me curiously, before looking down at his hands as if he understood. "Sorry—"

     I shook my head. How did I always mess things up so fast? "It's—"

     "It's okay," he chuckled lightly. "I come on strong sometimes when I drink, but I know you're working things out."

     "Working things out?"

     "Quinn told me about the competition and it's failure until now," he admitted. "I can't imagine how confusing this is for you. I don't want to add any unnecessary pressure. I understand that this is pretend. I don't expect this to go anywhere else."

      "No expectations?" I asked tentatively.

      "Well, I'm kind of expecting to at least make a friend." He smiled gently. "While I'm being honest, I can't lie and say that after tonight I'm not even a little interested, but I understand the situation. No expectations."

      I smiled, visibly relaxing.

      Oliver held out his hand, again. I shook it firmly. "I look forward to being your friend and fake boyfriend, Yasmine Sarraf."

      "Ditto. Oliver Mattie."

     With one last salute, he jumped into bed and pulled the covers to his stubbly chin. "Let's hope the hangover isn't as bad as I think it's going to be."

      Stood in the doorway, I shut the light off. "Lucky for you, I treat all my friends to my brilliant hangover breakfast remedy."

      Light in the hall illuminating the room just enough to see him in the darkness, he arched a curious brow. "What does this brilliant breakfast consist of?"

      "Scrambled eggs with a touch of pepper, mixed with chopped up hamburger meat, wrapped in bacon." I stood proudly. "And a side of OJ. No pulp."

      Oliver's nose crinkled upwards. "The eggs, burger meet and bacon all together?"

      I nodded. "And topped with brioche bread. They make a beautiful breakfasts burger."

      "As a chef that is almost worse than hearing of your mother's love for drowning food in salt."

     "Don't knock it till you try it." I stepped into the hall, reaching to shut the door. "You'll thank me for it."

      "We'll see," he laughed. "If your remedy really is a miracle worker, then I would like to formally challenge you to a Just Dance battle in the morning."

      "Would you really let a hangover stop you from dancing?"

      "Of course, not. But if I'm to take on the girl who defeated the great champion, I want to be in my best shape."

     "You're Mark's Just Dance partner!" Oliver was the guy Mark was always subtly mentioning... And it suddenly it all made sense. That meddling arse was playing me. Mark was taking a subtle approach to the competition.

      "Guilty." Oliver laughed. "I've been meaning to take you on for a while... I mean you don't look like much of a threat to me," he goaded.

      "Oh!" I laughed loudly. "It's so on. You better prepare yourself, Mattie. I'm going to kick your ass."