It’s Showtime!

The door flung open to reveal Daniel first — all gawky limbs and a mischievous grin. He practically tackled Sophia in a hug, ignoring Nate completely.

"Finally! The queen returns," Daniel announced dramatically. "And you brought—" He paused mid-sentence, eyes landing on Nate, on the wine, the flowers, the fruit basket — the entire polished package. "Holy shit. You didn't tell me your boyfriend was a freaking movie star."

Sophia smacked the back of Daniel's head. "Language. And he's not a movie star, he's—"

"Your mother's new favorite child," Nate supplied smoothly, offering his free hand to Daniel. "Nathan Sterling. You must be the infamous cousin I've heard so much about."

Daniel ignored the handshake and pointed accusingly. "You look like you drive a car worth more than this house."

Sophia hissed under her breath, "Daniel!"

But Nate only laughed — an easy, warm sound that made Daniel squint at him suspiciously before finally accepting the handshake, muttering, "If you buy me a football jersey, I'll let you sit next to me at dinner."

Before Nate could reply, Sophia's mother appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She paused — visibly surprised by the sight of the flowers and wine — then schooled her face into her best hostess smile.

"You must be Nathan. I've heard… well, not much actually, but you're very welcome."

"Mrs. Dawson," Nate said smoothly, handing her the flowers with practiced grace. "These are for you. And the wine — for Mr. Dawson, if he'll have me."

Her mother's eyes softened despite herself. "Well, look at you — manners and gifts. Are you sure you're not trying to marry her tonight?"

Sophia choked on a laugh. "Mom."

"Come in, come in. Sophia, take the basket to Grandma before she starts yelling about her sugar levels again."

Sophia shot Nate a pleading look. "You sure you still want in on this chaos?"

He winked. "Lead the way, sweetheart."

Inside, the little living room buzzed with the comforting mess of family: her father poking his head out from the kitchen to size Nate up (only to nod approvingly when he saw the wine), her grandma perched on her recliner with the TV remote clutched like a royal scepter.

Sophia knelt to present the fruit basket. "Hi, Grandma. Look what Nate brought you."

Her grandma peered over her glasses. "Hmph. I don't know him yet. Handsome doesn't mean good manners."

Nate stepped forward, hands politely behind his back, voice dipped respectful. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Delaney. I hope the fruit basket buys me a little grace tonight."

The old woman barked a laugh, eyes twinkling. "We'll see, pretty boy. Sit down before I change my mind about liking you."

Daniel stage-whispered to Sophia as they settled in, "I give him ten minutes before Grandma asks if you two are sleeping together."

Sophia elbowed him hard. Nate, of course, heard every word — and grinned like the devil as he sank onto the couch beside her, perfectly at ease in the middle of her wonderfully nosy family.

Dinner was a cheerful circus of mismatched cutlery, homemade casseroles, and overlapping conversations. Sophia's father — Robert — raised his glass to Nate the moment everyone settled.

"To new faces at old tables. And to whoever brought this wine — you just earned my respect."

Nate smiled, lifting his glass. "Glad to hear it, sir. I come bearing peace offerings."

Daniel snorted into his mashed potatoes. "Next time bring pizza too, then you'll be my hero."

Sophia's mom rolled her eyes. "Daniel, chew with your mouth closed or go to your mother's."

"She's not home, remember?" Daniel said smugly. "She's with my dad in Atlanta. So you're stuck with me, Aunt Viv."

"Lucky me," Sophia's mom sighed dramatically, then nudged Sophia. "So, Nate — what do you do when you're not charming unsuspecting mothers?"

Sophia tensed, bracing for the shift to 'serious talk.' But Nate answered smoothly, without the slightest crack in his confidence.

"I'm a corporate lawyer. Mostly mergers and acquisitions, boring to everyone but other lawyers. Occasionally I get dragged to social events so people think I'm fun." He glanced sideways at Sophia, teasing. "Your daughter has a habit of making me look interesting."

Grandma perked up. "Corporate lawyer, huh? So if Daniel here messes up and gets arrested for fighting at soccer practice, you'll keep him out of jail?"

Daniel looked horrified. "Grandma! I don't fight—"

"Yet!" she cackled.

Sophia hid her laugh behind her napkin. Nate didn't miss a beat. "If he ever needs a character witness, I'll say he's a very polite young man with an unstoppable left foot."

Daniel perked up immediately, eyes wide. "You know football?"

"Played a bit in university. Still follow it when I can." Nate leaned closer, voice conspiratorial. "Sophia told me you were hoping to do a training camp in London?"

Daniel nodded eagerly. "Yeah, but it's stupid expensive and Mom's all worried about scams—"

"I might know a youth coach there. Legit. If you want, I can make a call. No promises — but I'll vouch for you if he's got spots."

The table went silent. Even Grandma stopped chewing. Daniel's mouth hung open.

"Dude… are you for real?"

Sophia blinked at Nate, stunned. He'd never even hinted at this.

Nate just shrugged modestly. "For real. But only if you promise to keep calling me cool in front of your friends."

Daniel whooped, nearly knocking over his drink. Grandma patted Nate's hand approvingly. "Alright. He's alright, this one. Keep him, Sophia."

Sophia's mother shot her a look that said, See? We all like him. Her father raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-appraising.

Sophia ducked her head, trying to hide how warm she felt — from pride, from surprise, from the terrifying truth that this fake relationship was giving her more support than any real one she'd ever had.

Under the table, Nate's hand brushed her knee — a tiny secret touch that said, Relax. I've got you.

She peeked at him, and he winked over the rim of his wine glass.

After dessert — a too-sweet berry pie that Grandma insisted on serving herself — Robert gestured for Nate to follow him out to the porch.

Sophia caught the look on her father's face: that subtle 'we need a word' expression dads had when sizing up a man near their daughter.

Nate didn't flinch. He thanked Grandma for the second slice he didn't touch and followed Robert outside.

The evening air was cooler than inside. Fireflies flickered lazily across the dark yard. Robert crossed his arms and leaned against the railing, his posture casual but his eyes sharp.

"I'll keep this short, Nate," he began, voice level. "I like you. The family likes you. You've made a fine impression tonight."

Nate stood straight, hands in his pockets. "Thank you, sir. I'm glad I didn't show up empty-handed."

Robert chuckled. "The flowers, the wine, the fruit basket for my mother-in-law — all smart moves. But you know what impresses me more?"

Nate raised a brow, genuinely curious. "What's that?"

"You watched Sophia tonight. Every time she spoke, you listened like she was the only voice in the room. That's rare. I've seen some pretend; you didn't pretend."

Something flickered in Nate's eyes — something unguarded. But he only nodded. "Your daughter is… worth listening to."

Robert studied him for a heartbeat longer, then extended a hand. "Good. Because if you ever make her feel small, or unimportant — well, let's just say you won't have to answer to me. You'll have her grandmother to deal with first."

Nate laughed, shaking his hand firmly. "Noted. I'd be terrified of her too."

Robert cracked a smile. "Smart man. Alright. Let's get back in before Grandma tries to interrogate you about grandkids and marriage."

They headed inside together, and from the hallway, Sophia caught Nate's eye — a silent question: All good?

Nate's answering grin told her everything she needed to know.

The goodbyes stretched on longer than Sophia expected — her grandma fussed over Nate's hair, her mother insisted he take the leftover pie, and Daniel begged him to remember the football camp connection.

When they finally stepped out into the night, Sophia's head buzzed from too much sugar and the warm blur of family chatter. Nate's hand pressed gently on her lower back as he guided her down the walkway.

"Your family," he murmured near her ear, "is relentless in the best way."

Sophia laughed, nudging his shoulder with hers. "I warned you they'd interrogate you like a crime scene."

"And here I thought a top-tier board meeting was intense." He opened the passenger door for her, then rounded to the driver's seat, looking annoyingly composed as he started the car.

For a few minutes, they drove in a soft, companionable silence. The hum of the engine, the faint city lights slipping past — all of it felt oddly intimate, like they'd crossed some invisible threshold tonight.

Sophia fiddled with the leftover pie tin made for Nate on her lap. "You didn't have to charm Grandma and Daniel, you know."

Nate flicked a glance at her, lips curving. "I like making an impression."

"Dangerous words," she teased. "Keep this up and they'll plan our wedding before our next fake date."

He chuckled low in his throat, but his eyes softened as he watched the road. "Let them. I can handle your family."

Something about the quiet certainty in his tone made her stomach flutter. She turned to the window, fighting a smile — and the inconvenient warmth spreading through her chest.

Soon they pulled up outside her apartment building. The streetlight cast gold over his sharp jawline and the thoughtful crease between his brows.

Nate turned off the engine but didn't move to open her door yet. Instead, he faced her fully, one arm draped over the steering wheel. His voice dropped, velvet and too close.

"You were incredible tonight. They adore you, but I also do as well."

Her throat tightened. "Careful. You're making this 'fake girlfriend' thing very confusing."

A ghost of a grin flickered across his mouth. He reached over, fingertips brushing a stray hair off her cheek. His hand lingered, warm against her skin.

Sophia's breath caught. Neither of them leaned back. The car seemed too small for the tension stretching tight between their bodies.

Nate's gaze dipped to her mouth — slow, deliberate. "I really wanna kiss you right now, Sophia."

She didn't pull away. Her lips parted, traitorous. Her pulse drummed so loud she swore he could hear it.

His thumb brushed her lower lip, sending a spark through her veins. He leaned in, just close enough for her to taste his breath — all expensive whiskey and mint.

Her hand gripped the pie tin, the only anchor keeping her grounded. "Nate…"

He murmured, lips a breath from hers. "Yeah?"

She closed her eyes — cursing every cell in her body for wanting to lean that final inch. Then, forcing her voice steady, she whispered, "Stop."

He froze. Exhaled a faint, frustrated chuckle against her cheek. Then pulled back, only far enough to rest his forehead against hers.

"Right," he rasped. "Contract."

Sophia forced a breathless laugh, fighting the ache in her chest. "Right."

They stayed like that for one suspended heartbeat longer — not kissing, but not apart either — until she finally untangled herself and opened her door.

"Goodnight, Nathan." Her voice was soft, but her pulse still raced.

"Goodnight, Sophia." His eyes promised she wouldn't get away so easily next time.

She slipped inside her building, a dizzy smile curling her lips as the door clicked shut behind her.