“Hey, Gina! Hold on a sec.”

Gina paused outside the door of the rehearsal room as Lori Kim jogged up to her. “What’s up?”

A big grin lit Lori’s face. “We’re going out tonight.”

“Oh, thank god. I need a break.” After a week of rehearsals, everyone was going stir crazy. The celebrities were feeling the wear and tear of full-time dance practice, and the pros were pulling their hair out trying to teach ballroom dance to a bunch of newbies with big personalities. Even the producers had given up on coaxing soundbites out of the cast.

Lori nodded emphatically. “We all do. I got the whole season fourteen cast onto the guest list for Club Picante.”

“Your ex-girlfriend’s still working there?”

“Yep. We’ve got VIP space at the end of the bar. Say you’ll come.”

“Come where?”

A shiver went up Gina’s spine at the rumble of Stone’s voice behind her. For a big guy, he walked lightly.

“We’re going to a salsa club tonight,” Lori told Stone. “Want to come? You’re on the list, too.”

“Stone, this is Lori. She’s won twice.” Gina hip-bumped Lori, who playfully elbowed her back.

“Hey, you’ll get there soon. I’ve just been on the show longer.”

“A salsa club?” Stone repeated, skepticism heavy in his voice. He turned his ice-blue gaze on Gina, and she sucked in a breath. “I haven’t learned how to salsa yet.”

Lori snickered and gave his shoulder a shove. “You’re not going to be judged on it, and you’ll have to learn it eventually, if you stick around. Might as well pick up the basics at a club.”

“It’s just for fun,” Gina said. “We could all use the break, and you don’t have to dance if you don’t want to.”

Stone narrowed his eyes, searching her face as if she held the answer. The look was so sexy it had her heart racing.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he said, voice edging toward a growl. It was something he didn’t even realize he did, but every time it gave her a bad case of cha-cha-ing butterflies in her belly. “Going to a salsa club with a bunch of professional dancers will result in dancing, whether I want to or not.”

Lori shrugged. “We can’t force you. You’re too big. It would take all of us to get you on the dance floor.”

Gina imagined dancing with Stone in the close confines of Club Picante. Crowded, hot, loud, and dark—

It was a terrible idea. “You don’t have to go if you—”

“All right,” he said. “I’ll go.”

What? No. “Really?”

“Sure.” He jerked a shoulder. “It’ll be a good chance to get to know the other cast members better, right?”

“Cool. It’s gonna be fun.” Lori took off down the hallway. “See ya!”

“Ready to practice?” Stone asked when Gina just stood there, staring after Lori.

“Yeah, of course.” They entered the room and set up their mics. When she stepped in close to him, he put his arm around her in perfect hold, wrapping her in his strength, his warmth, and the fresh, piney smell a week in LA hadn’t diminished.

Her heart rate spiked. Sweat prickled at her hairline. Bringing Stone to the salsa club was a very bad idea, but maybe she could get through the night without dancing with him.

She signaled the camera guy to move out of the way or risk being run over. “Come on, let’s practice grapevines again.”

At the end of the day, they parted ways at the parking lot.

“See you at the club?” Stone asked.

Kicking herself for giving him the club info, it was on the tip of her tongue to say no, to make up an excuse. As if she needed to spend more time around him. She was already on the verge of spontaneous combustion. Could people explode from lust? She was about to test the theory.

She wanted to go out, though. Part of her wanted the chance to blow off steam with her coworkers, and another part didn’t want to leave Stone alone to deal with all the other dancers.

Yet another part of her really wanted to salsa with him away from the watchful eyes of Donna and Jordy. It tipped the balance.

“Yes. See you there.”

She rushed home to take a shower—a cold shower—and maybe change into something sexier.

* * *

Stone maneuvered his way through the crowd at Club Picante toward the VIP section in the back. The dark club was lit red and purple, and crammed with people dancing in the space between a stage and the long, shiny bar. The blasting air conditioner did nothing to dispel the scents of sweat, liquor, and cologne. Loud music vibrated up through his feet. He received a number of appreciative stares—from both men and women—but the crowd parted and Gina was there, leaning against a high table. She spotted him and raised her hand in a wave.

Everyone else fell away. He wasn’t stupid enough to convince himself that he was drawn to her because she was the only face he recognized. It was just because she was her.

It wasn’t smart to come out with her, but after a week of dancing around each other—literally—he wanted to see Gina away from the cameras. So far, he’d only gotten contradictory glimpses—polished Gina in Alaska, playful, practiced Gina in rehearsals, and superstar Gina at the promo shoot. Sometimes warm and flirty, sometimes cool and professional. Maybe tonight he’d finally get to know the woman behind the dancer.

When he approached her table, she scooted over to make room for him and lifted her cheek for a kiss, as she always did. Under the “nightclub smell” permeating the air, her signature scent teased his senses. He was closer to deciphering it—something flowery, with a hint of earthy spice, plus ginger from the candies she liked to eat during rehearsals. She’d put on light makeup, let her hair down, and changed into a red dress that hugged her body and drew his eye down her toned curves.

Her hand snaked into the crook of his arm and exerted slight pressure, indicating he should lean down. On her other side, a pretty woman with heavy-lidded eyes and a red-lipped smirk leaned her elbows on the table.

Gina raised her voice over the pulsing music. “Stone, this is my roommate, Natasha Díaz. She’s also on The Dance Off, but she’s been rehearsing at one of the other studio spaces.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, ingrained manners feeling both out of place and necessary in this loud, obnoxious setting.

“My pleasure.” Natasha sent him a slinky, feline smile. She was taller than Gina by a few inches, with a lean, ballet-dancer’s build and tawny brown skin. Her eyes cut to Gina’s. “I’m going to get a drink.”

Natasha sauntered away, leaving them alone.

Alone, aside from the hundreds of other people in the club. Still, this was the first time they were together without producers or cameras.

Gina looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Don’t be nervous.”

His gut tightened. “I’m not.”

“You are. I can tell.” She rubbed his lower back, something she’d taken to doing in the last few days when she thought he needed soothing. If anything, it set him more on edge, her casual touch stoking the flames of desire.

Fuck. This had been a mistake. He should have stayed at the hotel and hit the gym, instead of coming to this club with the misguided notion that he needed to make friends, or that he could get to know Gina better without wanting her more.

It would never work. There was no point in even trying.

Her hand dropped away. “Oh, look. Natasha found room for us at the bar.”

Sure enough, Natasha was waving them over with one hand, her other arm draped over the backs of a couple seats.

Kevin Ray stood at the bar next to Natasha, easily recognizable with his light brown hair and skin freckled by the California sun. According to Gina, Kevin had won more times than anyone else in The Dance Off’s history, and his pictures were displayed all over the rehearsal studio’s halls.

Stone gestured at Kevin’s tumbler of amber liquid. “What’re you having?”

“This?” Kevin raised his glass. “Lagavulin.”

“Good enough.” Stone indicated to the bartender he’d take what Kevin was having.

“Wouldn’t have thought a guy from Bumfuck, Alaska, would drink scotch.”

Stone tried for an easy smile. How would Reed respond? “I get into town occasionally. Not much else to do in winter but get drunk.”

A petite woman slipped between them. It was Lori, the dancer who’d invited him to the club. Behind her was a guy who greeted them with a wide smile.

Gina made the introductions. “This is Lori, whom you’ve met, and her partner, Jackson García.”

Stone ducked his head and lowered his voice so only Gina would hear. “The one who’s supposedly younger than I am, but not as fit?”

She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a snort. Her eyes gleamed with mirth. “That’s the one.”

Stone sipped his drink, rolling the strong, smoky flavor over his tongue. He glanced back down at Gina’s empty hands. “Are you having a drink?”

A quick, silent exchange passed between Gina and Natasha.

“Yeah,” Gina said. “I’ll have—”

“Let’s do shots!” Lori thumped a fist on the bar to punctuate her words. “You all in?”

After a short hesitation, Gina nodded.

Stone pretended to be interested in his drink while Natasha grabbed Gina’s elbow.

“You never drink during the season,” Natasha hissed.

Gina shrugged. “I know. It’s fine.”

Her roommate backed off, holding up her hands. “Mira, no soy tú madre. Just reminding you of your own rules.”

“I know.”

Stone leaned down. “What did she say?”

With a huff, Gina translated Natasha’s words. “She said she’s not my mother. Come on.” She grabbed a shot from the cluster set out by the bartender. Stone took one for himself, and when Lori counted to three, they all slammed them back.

It burned going down. Nowhere near as good as the scotch. And when was the last time he’d done shots at a bar? College? It wasn’t something he and his brothers did. Reed didn’t know when to quit, Wolf was a lightweight, and Winter said his body was a temple and he wouldn’t poison it with alcohol.

Gina sucked in a breath as she returned her glass to the bar. Her eyes watered a little.

Stone rested a hand on the bare skin of her back and stroked gently with his thumb. “You good?”

“I’m fine.”

Her skin told another story. “You have goosebumps.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

Kevin appeared on her side and grabbed her arm. “Yo, Gina, let’s dance.”

For a heartbeat, Stone thought she would stay. But when she nodded at Kevin, Stone let his hand drop from her back.

She wasn’t his. It was stupid to feel even the slightest bit possessive over her. Still, he kept his eyes on her as she followed Kevin onto the dance floor. The music had switched from DJ-spun beats to a live salsa band, and it seemed like all the dancers knew the right steps. Since he didn’t, Stone picked up his scotch and watched Kevin lead her around the floor in tight circles.

Jackson joined him at the bar, clutching a gin and tonic. “You’re the breakdancing one, right? That was a hard act to follow.”

“I thought I was ‘the Alaskan one.’” Stone cracked a grin and made himself turn away from the dance floor. “Don’t worry, there’s no breakdancing in our foxtrot.”

“That levels the playing field somewhat.”

“You’re a TV actor, right?” Since they were competitors, Stone sized him up. Jackson was a good-looking guy, objectively. Fashionably dressed, with broad shoulders, black hair buzzed on the sides, light brown skin and eyes. But could he dance?

“Yeah. My show’s in its second season.”

“What’s the name of it?”

To Stone’s surprise, Jackson ducked his head like he was embarrassed. “Bite me,” he muttered into his glass before draining it.

Stone squinted at him. “Excuse me?”

With a sigh, Jackson set down his empty glass and picked up the next one the bartender had waiting for him. “It’s the name of the show,” he clarified. “It’s called Bite Me. I play a vampire werewolf.”

Stone couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter. It was the funniest thing he’d heard since arriving in LA, and he was so fucking relieved that someone else had a more embarrassing byline than he did. He put down his drink before he dropped it, and missed seeing Gina return until she was standing right in front of him.

That damned red dress taunted him. His fingers itched to hold her as he had all week.

No, not like that. He wanted to hold her closer than the foxtrot warranted.

She cocked her head. “What’s so funny?”

On Stone’s other side, Jackson rolled his eyes. “He’s laughing at my job. I’m a serious actor, I’ll have you know.”

The others returned from the dance floor and Lori called over to Mimi, her ex, for another round of tequila shots, which appeared immediately. Knowing the bartender had its advantages.

Stone accepted his second scotch, sipping and listening with one ear while Gina and Kevin talked shop, and trying to gauge the nature of their relationship. There’d been nothing sexual in the way they moved together when they danced, and it wasn’t like Stone had any designs on her, but still. He just wanted to know.

“How was New York?” Gina asked Kevin. “You just did a show, right?”

“Cold. And I was only in the role for a few weeks. Had to come back for The Dance Off.”

“God, I just want to be on Broadway so bad.” Gina’s tone was wistful. “First some hosting gigs, then Broadway. Then I want my own TV show. Oh, and movies.”

Kevin grinned. “How are you going to fit movies into that schedule?”

“I’ll manage.” Gina blew out a breath. “Work always comes first.”

Kevin gave Gina a long look, then asked Mimi to bring her a glass of water.

Stone scowled into his glass. Gina’s words confirmed what he’d already known about her—she was a Hollywood girl, through and through. But from the sound of it, she and Kevin were just friends. There was that, at least.

Mimi poured another round of shots, and everyone reached in to grab one. Lori and Jackson crowded in on either side of Stone. When Gina grabbed one, Stone sighed and took a glass. Shit, if everyone else was doing them . . .

What the hell was he even doing here? He was all for hitting a bar and having fun, but a club like this, of this magnitude, with people plugged into the pulse of the entertainment industry . . . that wasn’t him. He didn’t belong here.

Maybe it was time to go home. Well, back to the hotel, in any case. But then Jackson asked Gina to dance, so he stayed to watch them.

Natasha took the empty space next to him. “He wants to win.”

“Who? Kevin?”

She shook her head and pointed to Jackson. “Look. He’s asking Gina for instruction. He did the same with me earlier.”

Sure enough, Gina’s lips moved in a running stream of commentary as she danced with Jackson. She even kicked at his feet the way she did with Stone during rehearsal.

Natasha shrugged again. “He’s a good-looking young actor at the start of his career. If he wins, it’ll make him a household name and open all sorts of doors for him.”

“Huh.” So, even at a social outing, Jackson was playing the game. And Stone was standing off to the side watching his partner help someone else.

He didn’t care. He only had to stay on for a few episodes to earn the cash for his mother’s bills. But shit, if he stayed on longer, he could knock out his own student loans, too. How much did the winner stand to make?

Didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to win.

“What are you drinking?” he asked, since Natasha’s hands were empty.

“Coke.”

“Coke and . . .”

She jerked her chin in Gina’s direction. “Just soda. Looks like I’m the designated driver tonight.”

Was Gina drunk? He couldn’t tell from her dancing. She was just as graceful as ever. “You want me to keep an eye on her?”

Natasha smiled and patted his arm. “Thanks, guapo. But I got this.”

Kevin scooted in on Natasha’s other side. His glass was nearly empty, and his signature grin, while still in place, was starting to look a little lopsided. “What are you guys talking about? Oh look, it’s my partner.” Kevin lifted a hand and shouted, “Hey, Lauren, over here.”

A pretty blonde in a short black dress approached them. She shot Stone a sassy grin.

“Ooh, check you out,” she purred. “Are you one of the pros?”

“Nah, he’s one of the celebs. A wilderness survivalist,” Kevin drained his drink and called for another before finishing the introductions. “This is Lauren D’Angelo, Olympic figure skater.”

Lauren slipped an arm around Stone’s waist and winked up at him. “Damn, you’ve got even more muscles than I do.”

“I . . . I guess.” She was flirting, which would have been fine, in most circumstances, but she was coming on strong, and Gina was just a few yards away, spinning around the dance floor with Jackson. Even though they were just dance partners, it felt wrong to flirt with another woman.

Lauren’s gaze sharpened. “Can you dance?”

Kevin cut in. “Rumor has it Stone’s got some sweet breakdancing moves.”

Rolling her eyes, Lauren released Stone to take the beer Kevin handed her. “Yeah, but can you dance? Ballroom style.”

“That’s what we’re here to learn, aren’t we?” Stone sipped his scotch just to have a reason to break eye contact with her.

“That means you don’t.” Lauren shrugged one shoulder. “No offense meant. Just taking stock of the competition. You know how it goes.”

Stone drank again to avoid answering.

“So, since I don’t have to worry about you as competition . . .” Lauren’s voice turned silky again, and she set the beer aside to wrap her arms around him.

She’d gone from flirty to competitive and back again in less than five minutes. Were all Olympians this intense?

Her hand slid down to his ass and Stone almost choked on his scotch. Unsure how to proceed, he spotted Jackson and Gina returning from the dance floor and sent Jackson a wide-eyed plea.

To Stone’s eternal gratitude, Jackson stepped in, grinning and holding out a hand to Lauren.

“Hey, I’m Jackson. You’re Lauren, right?”

She swept him with a cold, assessing gaze. “That’s right.”

“You want to dance? Gina and Natasha have been giving me salsa pointers, and I want to keep practicing. If I’m going to win, I need all the practice time I can get.”

It was the perfect thing to say. Lauren’s eyes flashed with challenge, and she let go of Stone. “You’re on. But you’re not going to win.”

Gina sipped from the glass of water Mimi handed her. “Getting a little close there, weren’t you?”

Her tone was unreadable. Before Stone could explain, a commotion to his left drew his attention. A bearded guy wearing a scowl and a black baseball hat joined their group, greeting everyone loudly and kissing all the women on their cheeks. The guy spotted Stone and swung over, extending a hand.

“How’s it going?” the guy asked in a deep, accented voice. “I’m Dimitri. You must be Stone.”

Stone nodded, shaking hands, and the name clicked. Dimitri Kovalenko, one of the judges on The Dance Off. “How’d you know?”

Dimitri’s dark eyebrows rose under the hat. “Are you kidding me? You must be the tallest celebrity we’ve ever had on the show, even counting football players. The wardrobe department is shitting their pants.”

Mimi set out another row of shot glasses as the dancers returned from the floor. When Gina reached for one, Stone almost said something, but he caught Natasha watching.

She had a friend here. Lots of friends. She didn’t need him looking out for her, and there was no reason why he should feel obligated to. She was just his dance partner. That was all.

“Gina, dollface, come dance with me.” Dimitri snaked an arm around her as soon as the shot glass left her hand.

“Okay.” She was giggling as he hauled her back to the dance floor.

It took every ounce of Stone’s self-control to keep from charging after them to break in. But what would he do then? He had no claim on her. And he couldn’t salsa.

Instead, he watched. His drink was gone before he knew it, another in his hand, thanks to Mimi’s watchful eye. As he sipped, he noticed something.

Dimitri and Gina dominated the dance floor. Whereas Kevin had been equally quick and masterful, there was a difference to the way Dimitri danced with Gina. Every eye was on them as Dimitri swirled her around, his arms trailing along hers, his hand resting on her back. And touching, constantly touching her—her shoulder, her arm, her back.

He was leading.

So, this was what it looked like when a man led in the dance. When Gina danced with him, and with Jackson, she had to lead, because she was the teacher. Stone finally understood how hard her job was. Not only did she have to teach him the dance, she had to make it look like he was leading, when in reality, she was the one in charge. Even when she danced with Kevin, they danced as equals. But with Dimitri? Dimitri was clearly in charge, every step of the way.

Maybe Stone was on his way to getting drunk, because the idea didn’t sit well with him. He was supposed to lead? Then damn it, he would lead.

As if she’d heard his thoughts, Natasha snuck up beside him and slipped an arm around his waist. “I think it’s time you learned how to salsa, guapo.”