by Alexis Daria
Hold up. Had he really just said what she thought he said?
Gina stared at the card in her hand, the printed letters blurring as she replayed his words in her mind, trying to make sense of them. Meanwhile, Hector kept going.
“Meli had wonderful things to say about you after she was a guest judge here, and your producer said you’ll be in Manhattan the day after the finals. They said you’re from New York originally?”
It took Gina a second to find her voice. “The Bronx,” she said. “Same neighborhood as Meli.”
Hector’s face lit up. “That’s even better. It will be great for promo. I have to tell you, we were worried about finding someone to play Meli, and when she saw you, she came back and said, ‘that’s her.’ We haven’t even opened auditions to anyone else yet.”
Gina blinked as his words sank in. A smile spread over her face and she pressed her hands to her cheeks, which flooded with warmth. “This is . . . this is more than I could have dreamed. Thank you.”
“So, you’ll come to audition?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Excellent. Oh, can you sing?” He shrugged. “Not that it matters much if you can’t. That can be taught.”
“Yes, I work with a vocal coach.”
Hector grinned again. “Perfect. All right, well, I’ve got a flight to catch. I look forward to seeing you next week.” He nodded at Stone. “I hope you win. Goodnight.”
As he hurried off, Stone pressed a big hand to Gina’s shoulder and rubbed gently. As amazing and wonderful as the conversation with Hector had been, she’d never lost track of Stone’s presence, solid and strong at her side.
It would have been easier to hate him, to wish him gone, or banished. But even if they’d been eliminated from the show tonight, they’d still have to do the talk show interviews together the next day, and they still had stuff to hash out.
The fact that she wanted him here, and was glad that he’d been present to share her wondrous moment with Hector, was only going to make the coming conversation that much harder.
She swallowed hard. “We have to talk.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
After a tense and silent drive home with Stone’s big body crammed into the passenger seat of her car, Gina was vibrating with stress and ready to snap at any moment. When they reached her apartment, she headed straight for her bedroom out of habit. Stupid mistake. Stone followed her in and shut the door behind them.
“So, that was good news, right?” He crossed his arms across his chest and hunched his shoulders, something he did when he was trying to appear smaller and less intimidating. She wanted to tell him not to bother.
“It was.” Shit, it really was. It was more than she’d ever dreamed possible, and when she did dare to dream that big, it was further down the road. “But that’s not what I brought you here to talk about.”
He came toward her and took hold of her shoulders. “Gina.”
Just that. Just her name. As always, the way he said it made her knees weak, and loosened her resolve to steel herself against him. In the past few months, he’d figured out how to bypass all her defenses and access her heart.
Tonight, she wished she’d left a few walls in place.
He rubbed her arms, warming her, relaxing her. “You deserve to celebrate a little,” he said. “This is a big deal.”
“It’s just an audition.” Inside, under the hurt, she was leaping for joy. “Stop trying to distract me from being angry at you.”
“Can’t.” Slowly, he bent his head and brushed his lips over hers. “I’m too happy for you.”
She trembled. She fucking trembled. All the reasons for staying mad tumbled aside, and she plastered herself to him, kissing him back with a vengeance.
Things moved quickly after that, which suited her fine. If they slowed, she’d think about what she was doing. If she thought about it, she’d pull away.
She should pull away. She was mad at him. And sad. And mad. Or more sad?
God. She was both. And not even about his mistake. He was leaving her, and the thought of him boarding a plane back to Alaska devastated her heart. She should never have gotten so wrapped up in him that it would hurt this much when he left.
She needed to stop thinking about it. Just feel. Let him wash it all away with his touch.
Their clothing was barely a barrier. She was wearing a skirt, which made it easy for him to yank off her panties. She unzipped his cargo shorts and pulled out his cock while he unwrapped a condom. In seconds, he’d seated himself on the edge of her bed and she’d climbed onto his lap. With her knees on either side of his hips, she sank onto him, hissing as he stretched her.
No foreplay. No dirty talk. No sighs or moans. Just growls and grunts and the slap of flesh on flesh. She dug her nails into his shoulders, balling up the fabric of his t-shirt in her fists. He skimmed his hands under her skirt and gripped her hips to bounce her up and down on his cock. Without their usual level of preparation, the feeling of being stuffed was more powerful than ever. He filled her, his cock burrowing into her much as he had insinuated himself into her life and made a space for himself.
Except it was like he had always been there.
It was hard to remember a time before him.
This was the way of it with partners on The Dance Off. The intensive nature of the training and filming schedule forced an intimacy that was unlike anything in the real world. As special as this felt now, it wasn’t real. He was going back to Alaska in a week. And now it looked like she’d be going back to New York.
This was it, then. The last time.
Pressing her face into his neck, breathing in his pine-and-fresh-air scent, rubbing her cheek against his beard—all of it would be the last time.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung tight, not wanting to let go. But she was fooling herself. She’d always known he was going leave.
Stone shifted them onto the bed without pulling out. Holding himself over her, he pinned her to the bed with the force of his hips. Over and over, until waves of pleasure stole her reason and her voice. Hoarse cries fell from her throat, and still, she clung to him with everything she had.
When his thumb touched her clit, she exploded. As she shuddered and quaked beneath him, he pulled her close. His big body tensed, his muscles locked, and he came with a gasp. Her own orgasm rumbled on and swept her away, leaving an overwhelming emptiness in its place.
Panting hard, she didn’t move until he slipped out of her and shifted to the side. Then she rolled off the bed and grabbed tissues from the bedside for them to clean up.
If it got any more awkward, she was going to run out of the room screaming.
After pulling her panties back on and righting her clothing, she sat on the edge of the bed. He tucked himself back into his shorts and zipped up, then stretched out on the mattress.
“Now what?” he asked, pillowing his head on his arms and staring at the ceiling.
Better to cut right to the chase, to cling to the reason she’d been given. “I can’t put it aside and pretend everything is normal. I’m pissed off that they got that footage of us in the first place, because I knew better. But for Donna to air it on the show, without even warning me? And then to find out you knew about it and didn’t tell me? I can’t get past this.”
“Donna said that even if you made it to the finals, there were still no guarantees you’d have a spot next season, and this would increase your chances of winning and keeping your job. Besides, you went to Donna on your own after the paparazzi incident.”
“But you knew about that. I didn’t know Donna had that footage. I didn’t know you had a conversation with her. And at this point, maybe I don’t want to work for a show that has so little respect for me. The fact that they’ve been pushing the romance angle for months, when they know I won’t do it, shows they don’t care about me. I’m not okay with them making it look like I have no self-respect.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Really?” He soun
ded offended.
“Don’t take it personally. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m hooking up with my partner. Not you, specifically. Any guy.”
His eyes narrowed. “So, now I’m just any guy.”
She hated hurting him this way, hated dismissing what had come to mean so much to her. “Damn it, Stone. Stop making this about you.”
“How can I not?” He threw up his hands and got up to pace in front of the mirrors. It looked like he had an angry twin, like her room was doubly full of him. She hugged herself with her arms, holding onto her anger and giving it voice. It was the only way she’d get through this.
“Fine. It is about you. You went along with it because you thought this would help you win.”
He froze and gave her an incredulous stare. “I thought it would help you win.”
“I don’t want to win like this. Besides, you stand to take home $350,000 if you win. You really expect me to believe that had nothing to do with your decision to withhold this from me? You made it clear from the beginning that you’re here for the money.”
Chest heaving, his mouth fell open in indignation. “I can’t believe you’re throwing that in my face. My mother had a hip replacement. Do you know what kind of bills that procedure incurs? How much physical therapy she needed? I’m not ashamed of my reasons for joining the show initially, but once you told me your job was on the line, all I’ve focused on is helping you win.”
His argument was too logical. He’d chip away at her resolve if she wasn’t careful, so she side-stepped and delivered a direct hit. “Just because you don’t care about lying on TV doesn’t mean I’m cool with it, too.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Gina. You and I are not lying. We have something.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and resumed pacing. “Fuck. I’m falling for you and I want to shout it from the fucking rooftops, and all you want to do is pretend I don’t exist unless I’m in bed with you. You want the truth? It hurts. You know how many women have propositioned me since I’ve been in LA?”
Her jaw dropped and a spark of jealous anger flared in her gut. It was easier to deal with than his admission, to focus on her own hurt rather than accept the responsibility of hurting him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I hoped you were actually someone who was able to look past all this—” He made a vague gesture at himself. “And get to know me for who I am. Not for what I look like or the character I play on TV.”
The urge to reassure him pounded through her, but she bit the inside of her cheek to hold back. She had to stay on topic and see this through to the end. “Regardless of whatever we’ve been doing, you knew I wanted to keep my private life private. Forgive me for not wanting millions of people to know about my sex life. I can’t even look at my phone right now because it’s full of questions from my family. The cast and crew know. It’s going to be all over the tabloids, along with those photos from outside your hotel. I’m going to be bombarded on social media and in interviews. There’s no way potential gigs won’t know about it, and it will color people’s impressions of me.”
Again, his face pinched with hurt. “I don’t understand why it’s so bad if people know we’re together.”
“It’s bad because reputation counts for so much in this business, and mine has just been destroyed. It’ll change the kind of jobs I’m offered, and what people will think they can ask me to do.” She clenched her hands in the coverlet and played her final card, the argument he couldn’t talk her out of because it had been the guiding force behind her “rule” all along. “Do you have any idea how much my agent fought them on the showmance angle when I was hired? A lot. And because I’m Puerto Rican, I’ve already been fighting against the ‘sexy and promiscuous’ Latina stereotype for my entire career, something that’s hard enough when you’re a dancer. You knew this when we started, and it’s exactly why I don’t get involved with partners. So, no, you don’t get to make this about you, and you don’t get to tell me that you did this for me. Goodbye, Stone.”
Panic crossed his features. “Gina, wait.”
She turned her back on him so he couldn’t see the tears. “I’ll see you in practice tomorrow. You know the way out.”
* * *
Unable to sleep, Gina tossed and turned most of the night. The next day, she was up early, staring bleary-eyed at the espresso maker on the kitchen counter, when Natasha dragged herself through the apartment door. Her hair was a frizzy mess, and her eye makeup had smudged, giving her the appearance of a bedraggled raccoon.
They blinked at each other. Gina spoke first.
“Fun night with Jackson?”
Natasha toed off her silver flats and shook her head. “I went home with Dimitri.”
“Oh, Tash.” Gina leaned against the counter. “You said you weren’t going to do that anymore.”
“I know.” Tash flopped onto the sofa and threw an arm over her eyes. “Can you make me one, too?”
Gina got down a second cup. When the espresso shots were ready, she carried them over to the sofa. Natasha shifted her feet out of the way so Gina could sit.
“Which one of us is going to go first?” Tash asked in a hoarse voice.
“I guess I can.” Gina frowned into her cup as she stirred. “I broke up with Stone last night.”
That made Natasha sit up. She held her espresso to her nose and breathed deep, eyes rolling back into her head. She took a sip, and nodded. “Now that I’m human again, I have to point out, breaking up means you were together.”
“Yes, damn it. We were together. And I’m an idiot for letting it get that far when it was never going to go anywhere.”
“You like him.”
“Of course I like him.” Gina sipped and burned her mouth. Didn’t matter. She blew on it and sipped again, the rich, dark flavor exploding over her tongue. “What’s not to like? The man is nearly perfect.”
“Nearly. Except for little things like not telling you Donna had video of you two kissing.”
“And that he talked to her about it behind my back.” It seemed petty to hold a grudge about that, since she’d done the same after the tabloids caught them in the parking lot, but it was easier than admitting she was using it as an excuse to break up before their careers forced them to say goodbye.
“Did he explain why?”
“He claims he did it so I would win and keep my job. But now I’m not even sure I want it, you know? Oh!” She grabbed Natasha’s arm. “I didn’t even tell you what else happened last night.”
“Oh shit, there’s more?” Natasha tucked her feet under her, settling in to listen. “Spill.”
“Meli wants me to come audition for her Broadway musical!”
Natasha screamed so loud, Gina fumbled her cup. They set their espressos aside quickly so Tash could give her a big hug.
“That is the best news,” Natasha shouted in her ear. “I’m so happy for you! Girl, you better hook me up if you need an understudy.”
“You don’t sing.”
“Ensemble, then. I sing well enough for ensemble.” Natasha leaned back against the arm of the sofa. “You’ll nail the audition and then tell The Dance Off to fuck off.”
Gina pushed her hair out of her face. “I can’t really think that far ahead, not until after we get through the finals.”
“One more week.”
“Yeah. One more week.” One more week, and then Stone would be out of her life forever.
Even without this whole kissing footage fiasco, it would have happened anyway. He had to go back to Alaska to resume filming. She had to continue building her career. It was all she’d ever wanted.
Career came first. Always.
Gina collected their dishes and brought them to the sink. “You want to tell me what the hell is going on with you and Dimitri? Again?”
Natasha groaned and covered her face with one of the colorful throw pillows brightening up the beige sofa. “Not really.”
“Should I guess?”
&nb
sp; “Probably.” The word came out muffled.
“You guys had too much to drink at the club, he turned those sexy chocolate brown eyes on you and said in that deep, fake accent,” she dropped her voice to imitate Dimitri’s baritone, “‘Yo, Tasha, you wanna go home with me?’ And you tripped and fell on his dick.”
Tash threw the pillow aside and scowled. “That’s exactly what happened.”
“Was it good, at least?”
“It’s always good. That’s the problem.” She got up to rummage in the fridge. “Did you get in one last round with Stone?”
Gina sighed. “Yeah.”
“Was it good?”
“Of course. Just made the rest of it worse, though.”
“One more week.”
“I know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
After an especially punishing session at the hotel gym that did nothing to keep his mind off Gina, Stone returned to his room just in time to pick up a call from downstairs.
“Yeah?” He held the phone away from him, since he was dripping with sweat.
“Hello, Mr. Nielson. This is Omar at the front desk. We have a message for you. Your mother called and asked you to connect with her on video chat.”
Stone suppressed a groan and thanked Omar. Hanging up the phone, he plucked at the wet tank top clinging to his chest. He was drenched. His family would have to wait until he’d taken a shower.
He’d put it off longer if he thought he could get away with it. Ever since he’d visited Alaska with Gina, resentment popped up at odd moments. He’d recall someone from college, and then remember he wasn’t allowed to reach out to anyone from his former life. Or someone at The Dance Off would ask him anything, and he’d have to lie or clam up.
And after everything that had happened with Gina . . . shit, he just didn’t want to talk to anyone.
He was hurt, he could admit that much. And angry. And he still had to fucking dance with her and pretend like everything was fine. It was fucked up.
He glanced at his laptop. As much as he wanted to ignore them, the pull of family was too strong.
