Take the Lead: A Dance Off Novel

by Alexis Daria

  When they entered the other rehearsal room to meet their teammates, the first words out of Lauren’s mouth were, “Ooh, I get to dance with him?”

  Kevin let out a bark of laughter. “I guess we could choreograph a partner switch?”

  Gina’s body tensed, her skin heating. Over my dead body. “We’ll see how it goes,” she said, proud at how friendly she managed to sound, and not at all like she wanted to claw out Lauren’s pretty blue eyes.

  Gina assessed their group. Lauren and Stone were light-haired and blue-eyed, with strength superior to that of normal humans. As a dancer, Gina was no slouch herself, but Lauren, with her broad shoulders and muscular ice skater’s legs, looked like she could haul lumber in the wilderness right alongside Stone and his brothers. They’d make little blond babies with sky blue eyes and do outdoorsy shit like hunting and logging.

  Whoa, hold up. She didn’t care about shit like that—babies or logging. Where did this line of thinking come from?

  Oh fuck. She was jealous.

  Not cool. So not cool.

  To mask her reaction, Gina turned her back on Stone and Lauren—the pair were discussing white-water rafting—and approached Kevin.

  “So, the team medley,” she said. Kevin launched into an explanation of his ideas for the dance, which he’d been brainstorming for weeks. Immense gratitude filled her—for Kevin and his professionalism, obsession with clever choreography, and his fans. Kevin would keep their team—Team Ice Cold, a mashup of Team Stone Cold and Team Freeze Ray—focused on the dance.

  If anyone wanted to win more than Gina, it was Kevin. And Kevin always won the team dance. As long as they survived the next elimination, there was a good chance their Team Up Week scores would help them make it into the finals.

  Time to pray. And then work her ass off.

  Jordy came in with their music.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing them a paper and a CD. “Gina, you’re going to love this one.”

  It was said without an ounce of sarcasm. Curious, Gina took the paper, read the name on top, and squealed.

  Stone was by her side in a second. “What is it? What’s our music?”

  “Not what, but who.” Gina thrust the paper at him. “It’s a Meli medley!”

  * * *

  “Huh?” Stone scanned the list of songs. A couple sounded familiar, but nothing he could admit to knowing, so he just asked, “Who’s Meli?”

  Gina gaped at him and snatched the paper away. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He gave her a friendly nudge with his hip. “We don’t listen to Top 40 in the bush.”

  “I cannot believe you don’t know who Meli is.”

  “Melissa ‘Meli’ Mendez,” Kevin cut in, taking the list of songs from Gina. “Singer and actress.”

  “She is so much more than that,” Gina protested.

  Lauren looked at the list over Kevin’s shoulder. “Oh cool, I do warm ups to a couple of these songs.”

  Gina turned to Stone, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Meli is my idol. She’s a Puerto Rican girl from the Bronx—from my neighborhood—who started as a dancer. Then she put out a few pop albums, had a few hits, and transitioned to starring in movies. From there she scored some other gigs, including a fashion line, judging, and hosting.”

  “Ah.” It was obvious why Gina would idolize her. They had the same roots, and Meli had succeeded in the entertainment industry in all the ways Gina aspired to succeed.

  His mood plummeted. It was yet another stark reminder of how different their end goals were.

  “Do you know how rare it is for a Puerto Rican woman to reach this level of fame and recognition?” Gina asked.

  He didn’t, but it was clear this was important to her. “No?”

  She blinked, brows dipping like she was disappointed. “Rare. She’s the only one who’s done it at this level.”

  “Let’s get started with this choreography,” Kevin cut in. “We only have two hours.”

  Kevin was a hands-on choreographer. Stone sat on the stage with Lauren while Gina and Kevin worked out the dance. Their movements were sharp and fluid, like the time they’d danced together at the salsa club. Masters at work.

  “How’s your trio dance going?” Lauren asked, scooting closer.

  “We’ve got Natasha.”

  “We’re with Matteo. Hot Italian man for one dance, and you for another?” She gave him a heavy-lidded look. “I’m a lucky woman this week.”

  Stone’s face heated, and he kept his eyes on Gina and Kevin while he tried to work out what to say.

  The dance gods smiled upon him. Gina beckoned him over to try out a lift.

  Gina hadn’t heard, but Lauren’s words still made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want Lauren to say something within Gina’s hearing, especially since he wasn’t allowed to tell her he was taken.

  Wait, was he? He didn’t know what the hell was going on with them. Their tryst existed in the moment, with no thought for the future, dedicated to wringing every ounce of fun and pleasure they could from this whole weird experience.

  Then what? Where were they going with this? Because no matter what happened, he was going back to Alaska, and not just for Living Wild. Alaska was his home, the home of his soul. He felt more at peace there than any other place he’d ever been.

  And Gina had made it clear her future was in two places: New York and Los Angeles. Alaska didn’t figure into her dreams.

  Where did he figure in?

  He was afraid to ask, afraid he wouldn’t like the answer.

  Following Kevin’s instructions, Stone lifted Gina over his head, whipping her around. He kept his eyes on Kevin, while his thoughts returned to the situation he was in with Gina.

  And then he dropped her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Instinct kicked in, and Stone caught Gina before her head hit the floor. However, he didn’t count on her own reflexes. She threw her arms out to catch herself and tripped him in the process.

  They went down in a tumble of limbs, crashing to the hardwood floor of the rehearsal room.

  Someone screamed.

  Stone twisted at the last minute to take the brunt of the fall, landing hard on his knee and forearm. Kevin and Lauren rushed in, but Stone ignored them. Gina was the only one who mattered.

  He’d dropped her.

  “Gina?” Wincing, he shifted into a sitting position, cradling Gina in his lap while his knee throbbed something fierce.

  “Are you okay?” Breathless, she ran her hands over his body, checking him.

  “Am I?” She couldn’t be serious. He touched her elbows, knees, hands, checking her joints. “I heard you scream.”

  “That was me.” Lauren knelt beside them. “That fall looked awful. Stone, can you move?”

  “Gina, tell me you’re okay.” He ran his hands over her head, her neck, down her spine. Behind him, Jordy shouted for someone to call the doctor.

  “I’m fine, Stone. I didn’t even touch the floor.”

  Blinking, he shoved the pulsing pain aside and focused on her face. She was looking at him with concern etched on her features.

  “You didn’t?” But he’d dropped her. He’d dropped her. Fuck. As her partner, he had one job, and—

  “I didn’t. You caught me. You’re the one who hit the floor.”

  “Yeah, that was amazing, dude.” Kevin stood to the side with his hands on his hips. “I’ve seen some gnarly drops—even dropped my own partners a few times. It happens. Never saw someone make a catch like that.”

  Lauren inched closer while Gina gingerly worked the leg of Stone’s sweatpants up and over his knee.

  Jordy crowded in with ice packs. “We have to get him checked out.”

  Stone leaned back and propped himself up on his arms. His left complained, but since it wasn’t as bad as his knee, he ignored it. He let Gina and Jordy see to his leg, closing his eyes and tipping his head back as adrenaline coursed through his body.

  Lauren rubbed his back.
He wished she’d stop. Gina’s touch, careful yet sure on his knee, was already soothing him.

  “Stone?”

  Gina’s voice. He opened his eyes. “Hmm?”

  Her gaze was full of worry. “Does your knee hurt a lot?”

  She wanted him to say no. It was on the tip of his tongue to lie. He opened his mouth, but she pressed a fingertip to his lips.

  “Don’t lie,” she said in a low voice. “Truth. Does your knee hurt?”

  He let out a slow breath. “Yeah. Kind of.”

  Her mouth firmed and she nodded. “We’re taking you to the doctor. Can you walk?” She glanced at Kevin, who shrugged. “Stone, you’re the biggest person in this building. I don’t think there’s anyone here who can help you walk.”

  Jordy’s assistant leaped to her feet. “One of the camera guys in room B is a big guy. I’ll go get him.”

  Stone shook his head. “I’ll walk.” He got his legs under him, wincing when his knee and arm sent shooting pain from the points where they’d made direct contact with hard floor. Once he was upright, he felt a little better. Granted, he had yet to take a step, so that might change, but at least he could stand under his own power. Gina still looked worried, so he cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be able to dance on Monday.”

  Gina gasped. Stone blinked, realizing what he’d done. He’d kissed her face, in front of Lauren, Jordy, and the cameras.

  Lauren huffed. “Since when did you guys get all lovey-dovey? You screwing or something?”

  Kevin’s laid-back manner came to the rescue. “Hey, Lauren. Not cool, girl. This isn’t the time to joke around.”

  Lauren shrugged. “Fine. But how are we supposed to practice our team dance if one fourth of the team is laid up?”

  It was a good question. And how the hell was he going to samba with a busted knee?

  “Kevin, you keep working on the dance,” Gina said. “I’ll go with Stone to the doctor.”

  Stone shook his head. “No. You stay here. Work your magic—choreograph the dance with Kev. Then you can teach it to me.”

  “I don’t want to leave you—”

  “Gina.” He kept his voice gentle. If only he could kiss her fears away right now. The stricken expression on her face was killing him, shredding his resolve to keep his hands off her when the cameras were on. “I’ve been hurt way worse than this, in locations where there wasn’t a doctor around for miles. I’ll be okay going to a Los Angeles clinic to get checked out.”

  She bit her lip like she was holding back an argument, but nodded. “Go home after the doctor. We’ll see where we are tomorrow.”

  There was something in her gaze, something she was trying to communicate to him. He couldn’t decipher it. Despite his calm words, his knee hurt like a motherfucker. With a nod to the rest of Team Ice Cold, Stone leaned on Jordy’s shoulder and limped out of the studio.

  * * *

  It was nothing. Just a bad bruise. But it meant Stone was laid up in bed, icing his knee and flicking through cable channels. There was nothing on. He couldn’t hit the gym, the pool, run, or hike.

  He was bored.

  His laptop sat on the room’s desk, but he didn’t feel like moving to get it. Maybe he’d rent a movie. He’d missed all the latest superhero flicks while filming Living Wild.

  Someone knocked on his hotel room door.

  He frowned. Had he ordered something?

  No. He hadn’t hit his head. He’d remember whether he ordered room service or not.

  “Who is it?” he yelled from the bed.

  “It’s me.”

  Muffled, subdued, but unmistakable. Gina.

  “Hold on.”

  Clicking off the TV, he threw the remote aside and shifted the enormous ice pack off his knee. Whereas the laptop had seemed like too much trouble, Gina’s voice brought him a burst of energy. He hobbled to the door and swung it open.

  Without missing a beat, Gina crossed the threshold and wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug. He returned it with one arm, since the other still held the door.

  “What are you doing here?” Paparazzi swarmed around this hotel, which was why they always met at her apartment.

  “I had to see you,” she said into his shirt. Tipping her head back, she gave him a tremulous smile. “When I heard you hit the floor . . .”

  He brushed loose strands of hair back from her face, relishing the freedom of such a simple move. It sucked holding back around the cameras. “Don’t worry. It would take a lot more than that to put me out of commission. I was more worried about you.” He limped backward a few steps so she could shut the door. When they were alone, finally, blessedly alone, he leaned against the wall and pulled her in for a long, searching kiss.

  The now familiar scent of coconut and hibiscus enveloped him in its sweetness.

  Breaking the kiss, he dipped his head and snuffled the sensitive area behind her ear. “Mmm, you smell good enough to eat.”

  She giggled. “You’re tickling me.”

  “I’ll tickle you somewhere else, too, if you want.”

  Her laugh turned husky. She pressed closer. “God, Stone, I was so fucking scared for you. I thought you’d hit your head.”

  Slinging an arm around her shoulder, he hobbled back to the bed—and only leaned a little bit of his weight on her. She helped him climb onto the mattress and settled the ice over his knee again.

  “I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” He patted the bed next to him, and she toed off her sandals and snuggled in against his side. “We’ll dance next week and get great scores, and we’ll make it to the finals. You’ll keep your job.”

  A little voice in his head chimed in with a snide, And then what?

  He pushed it away. Even if they didn’t make the finals and Gina got cut from the show, she would still follow her dreams. She wouldn’t let it stop her.

  More importantly, she wouldn’t leave the industry, no matter what setbacks she suffered. She was too talented, too hardworking, to give up on herself.

  It was one of the things he loved about her.

  Yep. There it was. Damn it. He loved her.

  She hugged him and pressed her face to his chest. “It’s not just about my job.”

  His stupid heart thumped faster. “No?”

  “No.” She slumped against him. “I was scared for you. I care about your well-being, you know.”

  He swallowed. She never would have broken her rule for him if she hadn’t cared. “I know.”

  “How did we get here?” She idly flicked her finger along the edge of his beard.

  “Here?”

  “Not here in the hotel room. You know what I mean.”

  “It feels inevitable.”

  “Don’t give me that nonsense. You can’t tell me you didn’t think I was some high-maintenance LA chick when we first met.”

  He chewed on the corner of his mouth. “Well . . .”

  She laughed. “I know how I looked. My stupid producers hadn’t given me any indication of where we were going, except that I should dress warmly.”

  Now he was curious. “Where did you think you were going?”

  “I thought I was getting the male version of Lauren. I had dreams of a gold-medal-winning figure skater, who already knew how to dance and had a built-in fan base. A sure shot at winning The Dance Off trophy.”

  “Instead you got a wild man with no dance training and terrible social skills.”

  She frowned at him. “There’s nothing wrong with your social skills.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Gina, I barely spoke at the beginning.” He was still afraid to say something that would betray his family, but he wasn’t afraid to speak. Gina, with her easygoing sweetness, had opened him up. He didn’t have to be “the quiet one” with her. He wasn’t playing a role. He could be himself.

  It was the only thing she expected of him, and it was a gift he could never repay.

  “I can’t believe I dropped you,” he s
aid in a hushed voice.

  She rubbed her palm in circles over his belly. “I’ve been dropped before. It happens.”

  “But I’ve never done it. I was preoccupied.”

  Her hand stilled. “What were you thinking about?”

  Truth, she’d said in the dance studio. She’d been talking about his knee, but didn’t she deserve more truth from him than just an injury report?

  “I was thinking about returning to Alaska.”

  Close as they were, it was impossible to miss the way her body tensed.

  “Oh.”

  He rubbed her back. “I have to finish my contract with Living Wild.”

  She turned her face away from him. “I know.” Her voice sounded small.

  “You work here in LA.” Who the hell was he trying to convince?

  “I know.”

  He held her and she held him, touching in gestures meant to soothe rather than ignite.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking, Gina.” She’d asked him, and he’d answered. It was only fair she return the favor.

  She released a hefty sigh. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “I know. Your rule.”

  “Not just the rule.” She picked at a loose thread in the hem of his t-shirt. “The rule is to protect my career. I don’t need a rule to protect my . . . feelings, because I don’t usually let them get involved.”

  His heart thumped again. If he interrupted her now, she might change tracks. But if he didn’t acknowledge that he was listening, she might stop. He settled on, “Mm-hmm.”

  “I . . . I have some feelings, Stone. For you.”

  He needed to see it. Needed to know the truth. He shifted her so she was sitting across his lap and looked right into her eyes. She caught on quick, knowing what he was after.

  They gazed into each other’s eyes. This time, there was no giggling. Just raw, naked emotion.

  A pit opened in his stomach, a great yawning chasm of longing. He saw it mirrored in her, but there was a flicker of fear, enough that he needed to do something scary himself before he could kiss her again.

  “Me, too.” His voice was gruff, gravelly with emotion. “For you.”

  She let out a shaky laugh and pressed her forehead to his. “What the fuck do we do with this, Stone? We won’t work out. I can’t—I won’t—Stone, my mom gave up all her dreams for a man who left her with three kids to raise on her own. And the one time I let myself get involved with someone close to my job, it cost me. I can’t repeat these mistakes.”