When he emerged from the tiny bathroom, it was to find her perched on the side of the bed, gaze meeting his. Bare legs. Same oversized T-shirt. Damp hair curling at the ends again.
“Don’t go. Not tonight.”
And that was it. That was everything. Nate nodded once, slow and sure. No banter. No smirk. Just the stunned, silent awe of a man who’d just been given more than he’d ever thought he’d deserve.
33
BIG BRUISER ENERGY
Nate
“Apparently almost punching a man on live TV makes your ‘fake’ girlfriend look at you like a dessert buffet. Who knew?”
The lights blew up like a fucking sniper round, sharp, hot, and loud enough to rattle in his chest. The crowd roared, still drunk off Lars’ strip-jive bullshit. Nate wasn’t even paying attention. How could he, with Holly standing next to him like that?
Christ.
He wasn’t even really touching her, just resting a hand at the small of her back. But it felt like he was holding a bolt of lightning waiting to strike. Her spine was rigid, her shoulders up like she was locked and loaded, but her body knew him now. Fit against him like she belonged there. Like she’d always known where his hands were meant to go. She was staring up at him like he’d done something holy instead of spending the last few hours grinding his way through choreography with a hard-on and a prayer.
She looked at him like he was the fuckingperformance.
And yeah. He saw the way her gaze slid down his chest, slow and deliberate, unapologetic. Like she’d earned it. Like she already owned his soul and wanted more. His breath caught for a second as his brain slipped back to the feeling of her under him. He could still taste the sweat on her collarbone. And now here she was, painted in spotlight gold, eyes dark and greedy, like she’d branded him and was checking her work.
This was her moment. Her battlefield. But he wasn’t her burden tonight. He was her weapon. And he’d burn the whole fucking place down if she asked.
Lars swaggered offstage in a storm of cocky sweat and knockoff citrus body spray, dragging his cobra of a partner with him. Nate didn’t move. He just kept his hand steady against Holly’s back, the way she needed it. The way he needed it. But he saw the way Lars’ eyes flicked over her, the flash of confusion when she didn’t turn to him. When she didn’tsee him.
Because she was still looking at Nate.
And Lars fucking felt it.
Nate knew the type. Preening, puffed-up peacock alphas who lost their minds the second a woman stopped orbiting them. Lars was used to being worshipped, not replaced.
“What do we have here?” Lars was all fake-smile and slow-blink smarm. His gaze slid over Holly like a tongue, and Nate’s knuckles twitched. “Interesting costume choice, Holly. Still dancing with so much... intensity.”
Jorja let out a snide little laugh. “Cute how committed you are to making your caveman look good, babe,” she purred, raking her gaze over Nate in his simple pants and shirt like sheexpected him to apologize for existing. “Bit of a charity case, but props for effort.”
“I’d rather a charity case with talent than a partner who has to take his clothes off for votes,” Holly said sweetly, shrugging a shoulder like she hadn’t just pulled the pin and launched the grenade.
Jorja narrowed her eyes like she was contemplating a clap-back.
Nate didn’t react outwardly, but inside him that little flicker of rage he’d kept on ice for months sparked to life. Not for himself. He didn’t give a shit what they thought of him.
Nate didn’t flinch. Just tilted his head, slow and lazy, like a lion clocking two yappy dogs. “I’d say it’s more like... divine punishment,” he said to Lars with a side of his signature smirk. “I get to dance with her.Youget to watch. Tragic, really.”
“Watching her is the best part,” Lars replied, with a sly grin that edged Nate so much fucking closer to throwing down.
Holly arched a brow, voice silky. “Still using dancing to compensate, Lars? For... well.” She let her eyes fall deliberately to the fly of his pants. “Everything else?”
Lars bristled, jaw tightening. “She was such a quiet little thing back in Copenhagen,” he said, looking at Nate now with calculated cruelty. “Blushed if you breathed on her. Adorable, really.Naive.I broke her heart, and she still asked to rehearse the next morning. So professional.”
Something inside Nate snapped. His body moved before his brain caught up, one hand shoving Lars back with enough force to make the man stumble. He caught himself against the wall with a stunned laugh, but itwas short-lived.
Nate was on him in two strides, eyes blazing, fists clamping down on the collar of Lars’ shirt like he was back on the ice with blood in his mouth and that familiar red mist behind his eyes. “Say that shit again,” he snarled.
Lars grinned, smug and feral, clearly mistaking Nate’s fury for performance.
“Oh, please.What’re you gonna do? Hit me in front of the cameras?” He leaned in, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Shebeggedme to love her. But I don’t do broken toys. Guess you’re not that picky, huh?”
