“Not much,” he shrugged. “He ranted. I put him in his place.”
She had only just narrowed her eyes at him when he realized he’d said the wrong thing. “I didn’t hit him, I swear.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, suspicion lingering in her gaze until he grinned lopsidedly and completely disarmed her.
“I had an idea on the way back here.”
“That sounds dangerous,” she winced. “I didn’t know your brain was capable of forming coherent thoughts.” She smirked as he pretended to be wounded.
“Horrible woman,” he play-pouted. “No, it was agoodidea.”
Her smirk widened. “What was it, then?”
“Come with me on an adventure,” he said.
Holly blinked, convinced she’d misheard. “What?”
“Denmark,” he said, like that solved everything. He said it gently, but there was resolve under it, something immovable. Like this was something he needed just as much as she did. “Come with me for a bit. Just until your ankle’s stable. Until the media stops camping outside your building. Until you can sleep without flinching every time your phone buzzes.”
Her mouth opened, but her thoughts were tripping over each other. “Nate, I can’t just get up and go. There’s the show, and mymom…”
“I’m not asking you to abandon your life,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees now, like he was in a locker room trying to talk a teammate off the ledge. “I’m asking you to let yourself heal somewhere you’re not beinghunted. Somewhere you’re not one bad headline away from breaking your own spine trying to prove you’re still useful.”
That word punched her.Useful.She’d spent so long being useful to everyone. Useful to producers who needed her to be a storyline. Useful to judges who needed her to be a spectacle. And useful to an industry that loved her talent but loved her obedience more. She swallowed hard, trying not to let him see the way her eyes burned.
“And your mom,” he continued, softer now, like he’d stepped into a room where he knew he had to lower his voice. “If she needs you, we’ll get on a plane. If she wants to come, she comes. If you need to fly back for appointments or chemo or just… to sit with her, we’ll come back. I’ll be there.”
Holly stared at him because what the hell was she supposed to do with a man offering heroptionsinstead of pressure. Offering her a future that didn’t involve her clawing for oxygen. She was so used to love being conditional that she didn’t know how to trust something that came with no tricks and no transaction. This wasnotin her emotional risk assessment spreadsheet.
“I don’t—” she started, then stopped, because honesty was clawing its way up her throat.I don’t know how to accept this.I don’t know how to let someone take care of me without feeling like I owe them my soul.Instead she said, “Denmark is… far. And I don’t have great memories there. You know that.”
Nate nodded, face serious. “I know. Which is why it’s perfect. Let me help you make good memories there, Holly.” A beat, and a glimpse of cheek. “And it’s notthatfar.”
“It’s basically the moon,” she shot back, because she neededthe sarcasm. “You’re trying to lure me to some Scandinavian ice castle so your mother can murder me with etiquette.”
His eyes warmed, and for a moment the soft Nate flashed through, the one she had seen on the ice with her, the one who laughed like he’d forgotten he was allowed to. “I’ll handle my mother.”
Holly’s breath caught at that, not because it was dramatic but because she believed him. She believed he’d stand between her and his own family without hesitation, the same way he’d stood between her and Lars, the same way he’d stood between her and a room full of predators disguised as cameras. She’d spent her whole life being the one who shielded herself. Letting someone else do it felt like standing on glass.
“What if I go,” she said slowly, voice quieter now, because the question felt like stepping off a cliff, “and then the show ends and you go back to your team and I’m just… a detour.”
Nate went still, hurt in a way he tried to hide and failed because he was too real for that. Not her fault. Still painful anyway. He reached out, placing his hand over hers on the blanket.
“Holly,” he said, and the way he said her name made it sound like a vow he hadn’t dared speak yet. “You’re not a detour. You’re not PR. You’re not a fucking fake relationship. You’re the first thing that’s felt like home to me in a long time, and that scares the shit out of me because I don’t know how to be good at this.But I’m trying.”
She stared at their hands, at the way his thumb moved in slow, soothing arcs like he was memorizing her pulse. She realized with dizzy clarity that she wanted this. Not just the trip. Not just the escape. She wantedhim. Holly wanted the version oflife where mornings were coffee and teasing and his huge hands. She wanted the version where she didn’t have to be sharp all the time. She wanted the version where she let someone else carry part of the weight.
Her throat tightened. She hated how much it meant, and she loved it anyway.
“I’m scared,” she admitted, the words so small they barely felt like hers.
Nate’s eyes softened like he’d been waiting for her to say it, and he nodded. “Me too,” he said quietly. “So let’s be scared together. You’re recovering,Martinez.And if Denmark’s where the story broke, maybe it’s the right place to start over again.”
Holly exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for weeks, then months, then years. She looked up at him, at this ridiculously gorgeous man sitting beside her hospital bed like he belonged to Future Holly, because Current Holly just didn’t fucking deserve him.
“Okay,” she whispered, as if the word could shatter if she said it too loudly. “I’ll come.”
Nate’s expression changed so fast it nearly hurt to witness, like he’d been holding himself still for fear of scaring her, and the moment she agreed he couldn’t contain it anymore. Relief flooded his face, bright and stunned and almost boyish, and the look he gave her wasn’t lust or swagger or charm. It was gratitude. It was devotion. It was the expression of a man who’d been chosen and didn’t know how to survive the tenderness of it.
