Food. Food was a good idea. Maybe if he settled his belly, other parts of his anatomy would calm the fuck down too. He made a beeline for the food and gathered a wrap, some scrambled eggs, and some sausage. He’d already fashioned a halfway decent breakfast burrito before a high-pitched call made him blink.
“Mr. Eriksson!”
He turned to see a petite woman with blonde hair and green eyes trotting over in five-inch heels. Sleek trousers. Blouse. Very ‘Kardashians’. She had the wide-eyed look of someone who thought fame was a valid personality trait.
“Hey,” he said, talking around a bite of his burrito when a weedy guy with glasses and what Nate suspected was a rapidly expanding superiority complex joined them.
“This is Martin Wikowski, Holly’s producer here on the show. I’m Kendall James,” she smiled enthusiastically, “his assistant.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Nate nodded, unsure what to say other than thanks for allowing my team to sign me up for this and ruin my fucking life.
“Just wanted to saythank youfor bringing such a fresh energy to the shoot,” Martin grinned, teeth too white, eyes too beady. “Holly’s…well.She's very committed. This season’s going to beelectric.”
“Yeah?” Nate’s eyebrows jumped before he could even think about trying to edit his face. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Kendall giggled like he’d told a joke, which only confused him further. “I was watching you two during the photoshoot. You have so much chemistry already! It’sgiving enemies-to-lovers. Viewers are gonna lose their minds.”
Okay. So Kendall was a puck-bunny with more of a tan and less game. “It’s giving restraining order,” he grinned down at her, running a pale hand through his midnight curls.
Martin chuckled. “Oh, youarecharming.”
“Only because you’re not trying to get anywhere near my goalie,” Nate shot back, a little of his regular intensity flickering beneath the cheek in his gaze. “Anyway, great to meet you both. I’m assuming I’ll see you around.”
They gave their vaguereach out if there’s anything you needplatitudes and moved on through the crowd. Nate slippedaway, angling toward the doors that would relieve him from this existential torture when a tall, blond dude stepped directly into his path.
He looked like a Bond villain, without the facial scarring. Like he’d been cultivated in a lab for the sheer purpose of stealing girlfriends and landing moisturizer endorsements.
“You must be Eriksson,” the guy said, voice smooth and sharp. Nate immediately recognized the accent.Interesting.
“Depends on who wants to know,” Nate replied in perfect Danish, tilting his chin up in a way that posed an immediate threat.
“Lars Holm.” He extended a hand. Nate didn’t even bother to glance down at it.
“Cool.”
Lars let the silence hang for a moment, his smug smile never faltering. “You’re working with Holly this season. Brave.” More Danish.
Great. A pissing contest in their native language.Nate worked hard to keep his face neutral now. Because no matter what this dude’s connection was to Holly, it wasn’tgood. “You know her?”
Lars tilted his head, all casual arrogance and expensive cologne. “You could say that.”
Theimplicationhit like a slap. Nate didn’t flinch, but something behind his eyes wentcold.
“She’s…particular,” Lars added, with a little shrug that needled. “Not easy to impress.”
Nate let a slow, lethal grinbloom on his face, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “I think you’ll find I’m fairly impressive. Especially in close quarters.”
It was a comment that was layered with meaning. Lars’ smile curled up a little at the ends. “Well. Good luck.”
Nate raised his brows in the hockey-bro’s version ofyou too. The other Dane walked off with an easy grace that made Nate want to sweep a leg under him to see if that smug expression cracked on the way down. Nate exhaled slowly through his nose. He wasnotjealous. He didn’tdojealousy. But something about Lars itched.
He took in the chaos of the meet and greet, resisting the urge to gravitate back to Holly. Instead, he grabbed a protein bar, shoved it in his pocket for later, and muttered, “Fuck this,” and glanced down at his call sheet. If he had to be in hell, he might as well learn the choreography.
@TheBallroomWhisperer on Threads:
nate eriksson showed up late to the season 12 promo shoot with two coffees
one was almond milk
