Page 121 of Set to Love

“That’s a tall order. She’s loud.”

“Lucky for you, I’m professionally trained in projection. One of the many perks of dating an actor.” He glances down at my bag before taking it from me without asking. “Come on.”

The train rumbles past us, sending a gust of warm air through the station. “Where are we going?” I ask. “Back to my place? Or yours?”

“Neither. I’ve received several strongly worded messages from a source that shall remain unnamed, insisting you deserve Burger Chalet.”

“Theo.” I shake my head. “Out of curiosity, what did he say to you?”

Max’s expression turns solemn. “His exact words were, and I quote, ‘If I catch either of you celebrating a quarterfinal run with plain grilled chicken, I will personally use you as test dummies for my next project.’”

I burst out laughing hard enough that a businessman walking past gives us an annoyed look.

“Honestly, I was too frightened to argue, given how I feel about coasters,” Max says.

Still smiling, I bump my shoulder lightly against his as we start walking toward the station exit. The evening air outside is cooler now, the city glowing gold beneath the streetlights while traffic crawls past in slow ribbons of red.

For the first time in what feels like weeks, walking beside Max feels easy again. Not because everything between us is magically fixed. But because we’re finally standing together again.

We exit the station and make a hard right, heading down the block toward the glowing alpine facade of Burger Chalet. The ridiculous faux-wooden shutters and mountain-themed signage look just as over the top as the first time I saw them. The smell of grilled onions and fries hits us the second we open the door.

“Ugh . . . I need this.” We join the line to order. “Are you sure you’re okay indulging a little?” I ask, poking him lightly in the chest while we wait in line. “I don’t want to sabotage all your rehearsal progress.”

Max’s shoulders shake with quiet laughter. “Katie, I spent twelve hours today singing, dancing, and lifting people.” He glances down at himself. “One burger won’t undo all the gym work.”

“I hope you won’t be ordering the Avalanche—Theo’s favorite thing.” I point to the menu. The monstrosity contains three beef patties, onion rings, bacon, cheese, and the secret chalet sauce.

“No. Even if I weren’t on a meal plan, that’s still too much food for me.” Max scans the menu. “What are you getting?”

“My go to is the Alpine Burger and sweet potato fries.”

“No shake?”

My eyes light up. “If you’re willing to split one, I’m down.”

“Deal.” He grins.

Ten minutes later, we’re crammed into a tiny booth by the window with trays balanced between us. While I ordered my usual, Max opted for the Summit Burger—which is basically just a cheeseburger.

“You up to catch a movie after this?” I ask.

“We can,” Max says easily. “Unless you’d rather go see Hamilton.” From inside the outer pocket of his backpack, he pulls out two tickets and slides them over.

They’re front-row center seats. Again.

“How do you keep getting these?” I ask, wide-eyed.

“I know a couple blokes,” he says with a shrug.

“Who?”

Max picks up one of my fries and dips it into mayo, which remains weird to me. I mean, who does mayo on fries? It should be strictly ketchup. But I guess I am in the U.K.

“When you spend years as a swing and dance captain, you make connections,” he says. “Let’s just say if you want to see a West End show, I probably know someone.”

“If we go,” I ask suspiciously, “you won’t get sick of musicals?”

“No.” His mouth curves at the edges. “Otherwise I’m in the wrong profession.”