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.

After a quick shower, he sat at his laptop and called his mother.

Pepper’s face popped up on the screen, crinkling into a smile when she saw him. He could see her room at the Glacier Valley Inn in the background. “Hi, honey.”

Stone couldn’t help it. He smiled back. Yes, he was mad at her for asking about Gina on camera, and for adding to it in the interview, but she was his mom. He loved her and always would.

“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, or a role, 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 where there isn’t one. You know how it works.”

“Oh.” The corners of her 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 explain what 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. Gina would never give up her life to go with him, and filming in Alaska made long distance relationships difficult—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. 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 aside his own needs. Well, he was sick of being the quiet and reserved one.

The gym bag he carried to practice every day mocked him from its spot next to the dresser, taunting, Are you really going to let the figure skater win without a fight? Snatching it up, he 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 Gina was 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.

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 he 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 joined Living Wild to help his family.

He’d spent so much of the last 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 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.

God, he was such an asshole. She was hurting, and all he had done was focus on his own bruised feelings. How could he not, though? He’d fallen in love with her, and she didn’t want him. Rational thought was beyond him for the time being.

Gina turned back, utterly composed, and continued as if she’d never stopped. “We’re doing American-style rumba, which is taught in a box step. The footwork is slow-quick-quick, on the one, three, and four. Ready?”

Her voice sounded hollow as she explained the moves, and her demonstration looked stiff as she took him through what she explained was a smooth, fluid dance.

“Hey, Gina, are you okay?” Jordy called, his face creased in concern.

She sent him a tight smile. “I’m fine.”

Halfway through the day, Chad Silver entered the rehearsal room.

A Studio 54 club kid turned drag queen, Chad always wore perfectly tailored suits in bright colors and patterns. Today’s jacket was electric blue, over an orange-and-white striped button-down. Most people would have looked ridiculous in it, and Stone couldn’t imagine wearing such a getup, but with Chad’s bronzed skin and bald head, he got away with it.

“Hello, my lovelies!” the judge called in his rich, exuberant voice. He walked right over to Gina and enfolded her into a tight hug. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

She clung to him for a moment, and Stone’s heart contracted. But when she stepped back, her eyes were clear.

“Fine,” she said. “I’m fine. What’s our redemption dance?”

She tried for a smile, but it was shadow of its usual brilliance. Guilt churned Stone’s stomach.

Chad waved Stone over. “How’s it going, big guy?”

Stone shrugged. “Looking forward to the finals.”

“So am I.” Chad clapped his hands together. “Let’s talk about your redemption dance. Last week you showed us sexy and cool with your jazz routine, and intensity and strength with the contemporary. In the rumba, you’re going to give us suave and romantic, but we still want more of your lighthearted side. We know you can dance fast, especially after the breakdancing you did last week. That’s why, for your redemption dance, we want to see you take another shot at your jive from week three.” Chad made a sympathetic grimace. “We know the package influenced your jive, and we see how far you’ve come from there, since last night’s footage would have thrown anyone off, and you both turned out great performances. We’d like to give you another chance to show the viewers what you can do.”

Stone nodded. “Jive. Okay. Which one was that again?”

Chad chuckled. “The one where you built a house in the woods.”

“Oh. That one.” The one where they producers had tracked down his ex-girlfriend, surprised him with her interview, then thrown him onto the dance floor.

Shit. They were in the same situation here. Gina had been blindsided by the footage last week, partly because Stone hadn’t said anything. He thought he’d been sparing her the stress, but this time, he was siding with the producers. No wonder Gina was pissed.

Chad helped Stone with the jive steps he’d struggled with the first time around. It helped to have a man demonstrating how the moves should look, and this time, they were easier.

Chad made their rehearsal easier all around, with his lively energy and positive demeanor. He seemed extra attentive to Gina’s needs, complimenting her choreography skills and work ethic.

When he left, Gina shuffled over to the cooler and pulled out a sports drink. Stone grabbed a towel and wiped his face with it.

“I’m going to take off,” she said without looking at him. “I have a headache. We’ll work on the rumba tomorrow.”

She was avoiding him. “I think I’ll stay here to keep practicing the jive.”

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “That’s . . . that’s good. Do you want me to see if Natasha’s around to practice with you?”

Wow, Gina really didn’t want to be around him. “Whatever.”

“I’ll text her. See you tomorrow.”

Ten minutes later, Natasha came in wearing a guarded look.

“You’re working on the jive?”

“Yeah. Gina left with a headache.”

Natasha nodded. “I know. She told me.” Natasha leaned over Jordy’s open laptop. “Can you show me the dance they’re doing?”

After replaying Stone’s dress rehearsal footage from week three a few times, Natasha nodded. “Got it. Let’s go, guapo.”

In the center of the room, Stone assumed the proper hold and took Natasha in his arms. Before she counted down, she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You fucked up. Don’t think I’m going easy on you.”

Shit. Natasha knew. And he was in for it.

* * *

Gina arrived at rehearsal the next day determined to throw herself into the choreography and develop the greatest rumba she could. If this was going to be her last season on the show, she wanted to go out with a bang. Fans would remember this dance and put it on their “top ten” lists for years to come.

More than that, she wanted to rub it in Donna’s face. And Lauren’s. And hell, even Kevin’s. And Stone’s. She’d show them what she was made of, that she was worth so much more than cheap gimmicks to get ratings.

Gina stopped short in the doorway, a wave of anxiety sapping her strength.

Donna was waiting for her, perched on a folding chair with her laptop on her knees. She sent Gina a wan smile.

“Good morning, Gina.”

Gina’s hand itched to slap Donna’s smug face. Fuck. Hold it together, girl. She straightened and entered the room with a bright smile. “Hi, Donna.”

“We’ve been tracking social media across multiple platforms for the past few days.”

Gina still hadn’t checked her Twitter account for fear of all the mentions from fans. “Oh?”

“There was a spike for you and Stone the night of the episode, although Lauren and Kevin are still leading in interest overall.”

Thanks, pendeja. “Oh.”

“The response has mainly been positive. People want to know if you two are dating.”

Gina held herself still. If she moved, she’d do something she’d regret.

Maybe Jordy sensed it, because he interrupted by showing Donna something on his laptop.

When Donna looked away, Gina left the room. She ran into Stone in the hallway.

“Your best friend’s in there.” She stormed past him, heading for the tiny kitchen at the end of the hall.

“What?” Stone paused with his hand on the door. “Who?”

“Fucking Donna.” Gina spat the words, the anger she’d held back in the rehearsal room spewing out at him. “Maybe you two can strategize some more about how to ruin my life.”

Stone dropped his gym bag and caught up to her in the kitchen, where she rummaged in the cabinets, slamming doors. She wasn’t even looking for anything, she just needed to get away from Donna and make some noise.

“Gina, come on. You know that wasn’t what I was trying to do.”

She did, but . . . “Your intention doesn’t matter. For someone who claims to hate lying, you sure do it a lot. Look at your family’s show.”

“I was trying to help.” His tone darkened. “And don’t bring my family into this. You know how I feel about Living Wild.”

She stopped messing with the cabinets and braced herself on the edge of the sink, breathing hard. “You know what? I hope we don’t win. If we win, we’ll have to do the media circuit, and we’ll always be remembered. If we come in second or third? No one will give a fuck about us.”

“You don’t mean that.”

She covered her face, emotions overwhelming her. “I do. I just want to forget all of this, and I want everyone else to forget, too. I’m done here. I can’t work for a show that does this kind of shit to me.”

“We work in reality TV. We’ve chosen to put ourselves out there for the public. This goes with the territory.”

She dropped her hands and glared at him, hurt anger powering her words. “One of us chose to show their life on TV and lie about it. I don’t flaunt my private life, and I don’t work on a show that focuses on it. I’m a dancer. That’s what I show. You knew they had footage of us, and you chose not to tell me.”

“And what would have happened if I had told you?” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned a hip against the counter. “Huh? Would you have stormed into Donna’s office and demanded she cut the footage?”

Gina sucked her teeth. “Yes.”

“And then what? Do you think she would have said, ‘Yes, Gina, you’re absolutely right, I won’t air it’?”

“Gotta say, this sarcastic side of you is not very attractive.”

He ignored her nasty comment and kept going. “Let me tell you what would have happened. Donna would have steamrolled you, because she’s the producer and you’re just a dancer. She would have flat-out refused to pull the footage, and Jordy wouldn’t have been able to help you this time. You would have spent the entire week stressed out about it, and it would have affected our rehearsal, your peace of mind, and our dances.”

It sounded reasonable. But she didn’t want to be reasonable right now. She wanted to be mad, she wanted to argue, because everything felt out of control and there was nothing she could do about it. “You still should have told me.”

Even to her ears, it sounded stubborn and childish. But it was the only defense she had against throwing the whole disagreement aside and begging him not to go back to Alaska.

She’d never do it. Just as she wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of her dreams, nor would she interfere with his. And he’d been perfectly clear from the beginning that when this was all over, he was going home.

She should have listened.

He threw up his hands. “You’re right. I should have. I’m sorry I didn’t. Next time I’ll tell you so you can feel anxious and powerless all week.”

She glared daggers at him. “I would have gotten my agent involved.”

“And Donna would have pointed out that real footage of us kissing doesn’t count as a showmance. You’re not going to win against her.”

“You didn’t even give me the opportunity to try!” she shot back. “And the fact that you don’t understand why I’m upset makes it even worse.”

“I do understand. And I’m sorry. Maybe you should try to understand why I’m upset.”

“You don’t have anything to be upset about.”

“That’s it, then.” His lips flattened into a line. “Your feelings are the only ones that matter here.” He took a step back and held up his hands. “I get it. It’s not about me, and never was. Come back to the room when you’re done throwing a fit.”

She sucked in a breath, but he was already walking away. Swallowing hard, she turned back to the sink. She would not cry, she would not cry, she would—

A second later, Lauren stepped into the doorway, startling her.

Gina jumped. “God, Lauren, you scared me.” She put a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart.

“Trouble in paradise?” Lauren asked with a nasty smirk.

Gina huffed out a breath and went to move past her. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

Lauren grabbed her arm, and Gina whirled on her with fire in her eyes. “Lauren, get your hands—”

“I know your boyfriend’s dirty little secret.”

The singsong whisper set Gina’s teeth on edge. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Oh, do you already know?” Lauren cocked her head and widened her eyes, blinking like a demented owl. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell . . . unless I think you’re going to win. Lucky for you, I think your little ‘true love’ gamble is going to backfire. You better hope I don’t change my mind.”

Gina clenched her jaw to cover the spark of fear. “I don’t have time for shit-talking. I have a rumba to choreograph.”

Lauren released her and Gina hurried out of the kitchen.

“See you at the finals, Gina,” Lauren called after her, followed by a cackling laugh.

Gina’s first thought was to tell Stone that Lauren knew the truth about Living Wild, but she slowed as she reached the door.

Should she tell him? He’d kept something big from her, claiming it would stress her out. While true, she wished he’d told her. This news was almost certain to wreck his week, and maybe then he’d know how she felt.

Her mother’s voice flashed through her mind. Don’t be petty. She’d said it every time Gina or her siblings had complained about something the others did or didn’t do.

No. Her first impulse was to tell him, because it was the right thing.

Opening the door, she stuck her head in. “Stone, can you step outside for a second?”

He gave her a dark look, but handed his lavalier mic back to Jordy. Good, he hadn’t put it on yet.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Lauren was gone, then pulled Stone out when he joined her at the door. She shut it and spoke quickly and softly.

“I think Lauren knows about your family. The truth about them.”

“Christ.” He shut his eyes, scrunched up his face in annoyance. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

“I don’t know. But I wanted to tell you, so you’re not blindsided by it.” She gave him a pointed look.

He rubbed his eyes. “Okay. You’re right. I should call my producers, just in case. Can I borrow your phone?”

She pulled it out of the pocket of her hoodie, unlocked it, and handed it to him. “I’ll work on the choreography. Take your time.”

As she slipped back into the rehearsal room, her heart rate returned to normal. Her nerves settled. The anger was still there, but it was tempered by . . .

Determination. No matter what happened in her life, the work and professionalism got her through. For the next week, she would throw herself into the choreography and the training. She and Stone would go back to their teacher and student partnership. She would show Donna and everybody what she could do, based on her own merit. And then her life would return to normal.

They were done, and that was the end of it.