“You reallyarea dancer,” he smirked. “That’s pro-level fuel consumption. Ruthless.”
She shrugged, unapologetic. “You try rehearsing for ten hours on three hours of sleep and see if you have the energy to savor your carbs.”
He held up his hands in surrender as though he wouldn’t dare to challenge her, and just kept chewing. When the food was mostly gone and the beer had gone from cold to still-tolerable, she leaned back on the swing and let go of a small sigh like it cost her something.
“I met him in Copenhagen.”
Nate didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Lars?” When she nodded, he tensed his jaw. “Was he a dancer then, too?”
“Older. Hotter.Brilliant,” she said ruefully. “The kind of guy you fall for before you know better. I was sixteen. First time out of the country, with a scholarship to the summer Viennese Waltz program at Tivoli Gardens. You dance all summer, learn from the best, have the time of your life and come home.”
Nate said nothing, opting instead to let her talk. Because if this was what she needed right now, then he was more than happy to be quiet and give it to her.
“Found out later I was part of his ‘foreign virgin collection.’” Her voice didn’t crack. Didn’t waver. “He did it with all the girls, apparently. He told someone. They told me. Guess I came home with a scar instead of a dream.”
Nate’s jaw clenched so hard it ached.
“Anyway,” she said, brushing invisible crumbs from her lap. “That’s what I think about when I think of Denmark. Fairy lights, and being the punchline in someone else’s conquest story.”
He stared at her, something hot and helpless rising in his chest. “You didn’t deserve that.”
She shrugged again, but it landed differently this time. Not careless. Just... finished. “It made me sharper,” she said. “Harder to impress. Better at spotting bullshit.”
He offered her the last beer without a word. She took it.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, voice low.
She glanced at him, unreadable. “You didn’t do it.”
“Still,” he said, “doesn’t mean I don’t want to hit him with my car.”
That pulled a huff of amusement out of her, the corner of her mouth tilting up just enough to ease the weight between them. “Thanks.”
They sat like that for a while, letting the weight of secretsshared and truths hidden settle between them like dusk over East Hollywood.
“I used to sneak into Tivoli too,” he said, thinking back with a wry smile. “There was this girl I liked. Didn’t know she liked other girls.”
She looked over, interest sparking. “Oh?”
He nodded. “She was all black eyeliner and musical theater references. We’d sit behind the pirate ship and talk about how weird it was to feel too big for a place that’s supposed to make you feel small.”
She studied him for a beat. “Did she break your heart?”
He smiled faintly. “She told me I was a good listener. And that I should probably start noticing when people don’t want what I think they do.”
Holly blinked. “That sounds... blunt.”
“Coming from you?” he teased, and she lashed out with her leg, pretending to kick him as her swing passed his. “Nah. She was nice. Just honest.” He shrugged with a laugh, obviously over it and just wanting to share it with her. “Tivoli’s good for that.”
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy. It was earned. He turned to her, watching the swing creak beneath her as if it were built for softer memories.
“You really never went back?”
“No. But I remember the lights,” she said with a wistful note to her tone that made him want to pull her into his arms. Because there was heartbreak there. Real and deep. And Lars fucking knew she still felt it and chose to be an asshole anyway.
He wanted to say something stupid. Something earnest and doomed, like how she looked more like herself right now than she ever did under studio lights. Like how her easy, unguarded laugh tipped just slightly toward reckless. How being around her felt like a shortcut to somewhere deep and dangerous he wasn’t ready to name, but already couldn’t stop circling.
Instead, he nudged her foot with the toe of his shoe, gentle, almost shy, the closest he could get to touching her without risking everything. “Thanks for dinner,” he said, because it was safe and small and didn’t give away how much space she was already taking up inside his chest.
