“Hi, Mom.”
“You’ve made it to the finals. We’re so proud of you.”
“Thanks. Where’s everyone else?”
“Your father’s meeting with Miguel, and the others are having breakfast. I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to call.”
The guilt trip worked. “Sorry, I was in the gym.”
“Don’t you think you have enough muscles?”
“Gotta keep up my appearance as the strong, silent one, right?” The words tasted bitter as he said them. It no longer felt like a joke, but an insult, a stifling of his true self.
“We all have our roles to play,” Pepper answered in a mild tone. “Speaking of, I saw the footage last night.”
Of course she had. Why else would she be calling? “Uh-huh.”
“I thought you told me there wasn’t anything going on between you and Gina?”
“There isn’t.”No thanks to you.He couldn’t say that, though. Not to his mom. “It’s just the producers trying to make a story out of nothing. You know how it works.”
“Oh.” The corners of Pepper’s mouth turned down. She looked… disappointed. “That’s a shame. You seemed so happy around her, I was hoping… well, never mind. You’re a grown man and that’s your business.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out everything, to explainwhat he’d done and how Gina had reacted, to spill how fucking torn up he was about it. But what would be the point? None of it mattered. In a week, he’d be home, and Gina would likely be moving to New York. She’d never give up her life to go with him, and the distance between Manhattan and Alaska made for a hell of a long-distance relationship—not that Gina would even want that now.
His mother changed the subject, catching him up on what was happening with his siblings, and what the producers had planned for them when Stone returned.
“We’re all real anxious to have you back,” she said. “What do I say about next week? Break a leg? I can’t tell that to my own son.”
He chuckled. “I love you, Mom.”
Her cheeks turned pink and she smiled. “Well, I love you, too, Stone. See you soon.”
He disconnected the call and dropped his head into his hands. If he could, he’d leave right now. Head to LAX and hop a plane to Juneau, maybe even stay there and pick up his old life. Leave everything behind, unfinished, to avoid the pain and discomfort. If he never saw Nielson HQ again, it would be too soon.
Everyone wanted him to be silent—his family about their pasts, and Gina about their relationship. The silent protector, keeping secrets and putting his own needs aside. Well, he was sick of being the quiet and reserved one. Through dance, he had found his voice.
The gym bag he carried to practice every day sat in its spot next to the dresser, taunting him.Are you really going to let the figure skater win without a fight?Snatching it up, Stone headed out of the room.
Maybe his personal life was falling apart, but damn it, he had an ugly-ass dance trophy to win.
Stone entered the rehearsal room with his stomach tied in knots and his footsteps powered by determination. Okay, so Ginawas angry with him and he didn’t know how to fix it, but he’d made a commitment. The finish line was in sight and he was going to see it through to the end.
No matter what, he still wanted her to win.
“Morning.” Gina didn’t greet him with her usual peck on the cheek. Her eyes were shadowed, dragged down by dark circles.
“Hi.” As much as Stone wanted to hold her close until they’d talked out all the bullshit between them and come up with a solution, he was also angry. She’d thought he was in it for the money—and yes, he had been at the beginning—but ever since she’d told him her need to make it to the finals, and her desire to win, those had been his driving goals as well. He’d wanted to do this for her, like he’d wanted to join the competition to make money for his mother, and like he’d joinedLiving Wildto help his family.
He’d spent so much of the last few years doing things for other people, he had no idea what he wanted for himself. And to have Gina throw it back in his face had been a shock.
By tacit agreement, they didn’t mention anything about what had happened between them—not the kiss footage, not their relationship, nothing. More than ever, he was resentful of the cameras, but on another level, he was grateful for them. He didn’t know how to address Gina after their argument, and dance rehearsal gave them a script for how to manage the day.
Gina waved the piece of cardstock that told them their new dance.
“We have two dances for the final,” she said. “The redemption dance, which is chosen by the judges, and one more dance style we haven’t done yet.” She tapped the card stock against her thigh, her fingers clenching like she was resisting the urge to crumple it and throw it at him. “Our final dance is a rumba, a… romantic dance.”
Her voice broke, and she turned away.
