Dance Off E-Book

Ariel Tachna

• Herausgeber: Dreamspinner Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 408

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

On the reality show Dance Off, pro rugby player Olivier Gautier and Olympic swimmer JC Webster each have one goal in mind: to stay on the show as long as possible to earn his charity of choice maximum exposure and a larger donation. As the competition heats up, their goals expand to catching each other's interest, but Olivier is firmly in the closet and plans to stay there. JC is willing to be discreet, but not to hide forever. Starting a romance with another man is challenge enough for any celebrity, but doing it under the microscope of reality TV—and one majorly intolerant costar—is even harder. Add in meddling dance pros, JC's overbearing family, and the need to play up chemistry with dance partners to win America's hearts, and JC and Olivier's time together is looking more and more like a recipe for disaster. As the pressure to stay in the competition mounts, JC and Olivier must face their inevitable separation at the end of the show as well as decide whether a relationship as complicated as theirs can survive in the real world, outside the bubble of the set and practice studios.

Leseprobe

Readers love

ARIELTACHNA

Château d’Eternité

“…this is a very romantic, passionate story… Thanks, Ariel, for the stimulating visit to the past.”

—Rainbow Book Reviews

“I found this to be a very engaging story of self-discovery and love.”

—Live Your Life, Buy the Book

Testament to Love

“I can count on Ariel to give me a fantastic story; she does wonderful things with big intense novels, and sweet little ones like this.”

—Love Bytes

The Path

“…never have I felt so connected, so involved in the past and present as I did here in The Path… I read this book twice, and each time its magic grew as did its hold on my imagination and heart.”

—Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

“This story is one of growth, of passion, and of two men who are so right for each other that words cannot do it justice. The Path is just a really excellent read.”

—Joyfully Jay

Readers love

NESSAL. WARIN

Syrah

“I would happily read more books from this author, this was my first experience with Nessa Warin’s books and I hope to have many more.”

—The Novel Approach

“This is a good contemporary love story that will pull at your heart strings and shows you how loving someone isn’t always so easy when you have responsibilities to yourself and your own dreams.”

—Top 2 Bottom Reviews

“I thought it was well written and good for a night by the fire with a warming glass of wine.”

—Fresh Fiction

Storm Season

“I’d recommend this for anybody looking for a long leadup to a sweet m/m romance, and a leisurely-paced mystery set inside a really interesting SF/F scenario that’s close enough to home to give you a bit of a shiver.”

—GLBT Bookshelf

“I enjoyed this book… It has adventure, romance, evil forces, and a strong fantasy element. The story builds, as does the tension, and by the end, you’ll be a little nervous for our heroes.”

—Gay List Book Reviews

ByARIELTACHNA

Best Ideas

Château d’Eternité

With Nessa L. Warin:Dance Off

Fallout

Her Two Dads

Highland Lover

Home for Chirappu

In Search of Fireworks

The Inventor’s Companion

The Matelot

Music of the Heart

Once in a Lifetime

Out of the Fire

Overdrive

The Path

Rediscovery

Revelations in the Dark

Rose Among the Ruins

Seducing C.C.

Stolen Moments

A Summer Place

With Madeline Urban:Sutcliffe Cove

Testament to Love

Why Nileas Loved the Sea

GAMESLOVERSPLAY

Amorous Liaison • Best Behavior • Ride ’em Cowboy

HOTCARGO

Healing in His Wings

With Nicki Bennett:Hot Cargo • Something About Harry

LANGDOWNS

Inherit the Sky • Chase the Stars • Outlast the Night • Conquer the Flames

PARTNERSHIPINBLOOD

Crossroads in Blood • Alliance in Blood • Covenant in Blood

Conflict in Blood • Reparation in Blood

Perilous Partnership • Reluctant Partnerships • Lycan Partnership • Partnership Reborn

With Nicki Bennett

All For One • Checkmate • Under the Skin

THEEXPLORINGLIMITSSERIES

Exploring Limits • Stretching Limits • Refining Limits

Breaking Limits • Transcending Limits • No Limits

Published byDREAMSPINNERPRESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

By NESSA L. WARIN

With Ariel Tachna:Dance Off

Mergers and Acquisitions

Sauntering Vaguely Downward

Stamp of Fate

The Stars are Brightly Shining

Storm Season

Syrah

To Dream, Perchance to Live

Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Copyright

Published by

DREAMSPINNERPRESS

5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886  USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Dance Off

© 2015 Ariel Tachna & Nessa L. Warin.

Cover Art

© 2015 Bree Archer.

http://www.breearcher.com

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.

ISBN: 978-1-63216-895-5

Digital ISBN: 978-1-63216-896-2

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014920686

First Edition March 2015

Printed in the United States of America

This paper meets the requirements of

ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).

To Nicki, for believing in this story even when we didn’t.

CHAPTER 1

“Oh, I’m excited to be chosen for this season of Dance Off, and I couldn’t be happier with my partner, Joel. He’s definitely the best-looking of all the pros, and, well, really, can you imagine me with someone… ugly?”

“Dios mío! That girl should be ashamed of herself!” Abuela tsked at the television, rolling her eyes as the talk-show host coughed politely into her hand. Abuela didn’t watch talk shows as a rule, but she made a point to tune in every time the show hosted the new contestants for Dance Off. “I can’t believe Javi has to be on the show with her. She’s not a real celebrity.”

“They had Paris Hilton on the show a few seasons ago, and you didn’t complain then. Maybe Makayla isn’t as bad as we think,” Mama said, continuing the conversation in Spanish. “We don’t know her.”

“I don’t need to.” Abuela stuck her nose up in the air. “I see what she does on television. She’s a poor excuse for a Hispanic girl.”

“So tell me, Makayla, what charity will you and Joel be dancing to support this season?” the host of the talk show asked when she had recovered her composure.

“Reach Out and Read,” Makayla said. “They’re a charity that promotes literacy in preschool children.”

“See?” Mama gestured toward the television, pointing at the screen as though Makayla’s last statement backed her up. “She’s dancing to help kids in poor neighborhoods learn how to read!”

“They’re all dancing for something,” Abuela protested with a snort. “When do you think she was last in a poor neighborhood?”

“Fine.” Mama knew better than to argue with her mother when she used that tone. “Just give her a chance. Maybe she’ll surprise you.”

“She’d better not beat Javi.” Abuela crossed her arms and glared at Makayla as she and Joel talked a little more about being on Dance Off. “Or come on to him. I know about all her boyfriends.” She narrowed her eyes farther as though her glare alone could convince Makayla to stay away from Javier.

“And now our next celebrity dancer, a NASCAR driver with five championships under his belt, Troy Phelps and his partner, Ella Peters.” The couple appeared from backstage and joined Makayla Chavez and Joel Somerset on the set, the pro dancer moving with her typical grace while her partner clomped next to her. “Welcome to Dance Off, Troy. Are you excited to be here?”

“It’s an honor to be chosen,” Troy said. “I’ve been a fan of the show since it first started, and to be partnered with Ella is a dream come true. I just hope my fans will help me support St. Jude Children’s Hospital and all the wonderful research they do for children with terrible diseases.”

“Well, that’s nice.” Abuela smiled as the camera focused on Troy. “He knows about his charity.”

“And he looks nice,” Mama added, taking in Troy’s clean-cut appearance. “Though I’m not sure he’ll be much competition for Javi. He stomps.”

“Next on our roster, Rini Cho, host of Out in the Wild, and her partner, Luis Reyes,” the host said. The applause from the on-set audience was louder than it had been for the two previous contestants. “Welcome, Rini.”

“Thank you,” Rini said, shaking hands with the host. “I’m used to being on TV, but this won’t be like hosting Out in the Wild. I’m looking forward to the challenge.”

“And your charity?”

“Luis and I will be dancing to support the World Wildlife Fund,” Rini said. “Appropriate, wouldn’t you say?”

The host laughed in agreement.

“Oh, now she’s cute,” Mama commented, grinning as Rini continued to answer the host’s questions. “Do you think Javi will like her?”

“Maybe.” Abuela took in the slender girl, her lips pursed as she looked her up and down on the television screen. “She is pretty.”

“And smart.” Mama smiled as she watched Rini laugh with Luis. “She could be good.”

“And now, our biggest steal of the season! Put your hands together for US Olympic gold, silver, and bronze medalist JC Webster and his partner, Chelsea Burton.”

“Look!” Mama leaned forward as though it would give her a better view of the flat-screen television. “There’s Javi! He looks so handsome!”

“He’s the best-looking man out there,” Abuela agreed, leaning forward as well. “And his partner, she’s pretty.”

“You’ve had a lot of experience with training as you prepared for the Olympic swim meets last summer. Do you think that gives you an edge?”

“I learned at an early age never to assume anything gives me an edge,” JC replied modestly. “If anything gives me an edge, though, it’s Chelsea. My mother and grandmother are fans of the show, and I’ve seen enough episodes with them to know I have a fabulous partner.”

“And what charity are you supporting?”

“The Trevor Project,” JC said. “Because no one should have to live with being bullied for being gay or bi.”

“He mentioned us!” Mama clapped her hands together, grinning as she leaned in closer to the television.

“Hush, María.” Abuela cast a stern look at her daughter before returning her gaze to the television, where her eldest grandchild was talking with the host and Chelsea. “He’s telling us about his charity!”

“That’s a very worthy cause as well,” Elizabeth said. “We have a lot of those this season. That sounded a bit like experience talking there.”

JC shrugged. “I may not wave a rainbow or bi-pride flag everywhere I go, but it’s no secret I’m bi, either. Unless maybe you missed the Olympics entirely last year. And yes, I took flak for it in high school and from teammates at various levels of competition.”

Mama scowled at the mention of the bullying JC had experienced in high school. “I hope those kids see him now,” she muttered. “I bet none of them have won Olympic medals.”

“Our next celebrity dancer is former Republican congresswoman from Iowa, Christine Thompson, and her partner, Michael Einarsson! Welcome, Congresswoman.”

“Please,” the woman on screen said, “call me Christine. Hopefully I’ll be spending a number of weeks on Dance Off, and I’m not here on the campaign trail. I’m here to support the National Breast Cancer Foundation and their fight against breast cancer.”

Abuela frowned at the screen, uncertain how to feel about the woman on the television. She settled on, “She’s supporting a good cause. I hope she doesn’t make trouble for Javi, though.”

“I don’t think she will.” Mama frowned as well, tilting her head as though she could look around the television and see Javi where he was hovering just off camera. “I think she’s one of the Republicans more concerned about money than other issues.”

“She’d better not.” Abuela scowled at the screen again as though her glare could keep Christine from being rude to JC.

“And now, straight from New Orleans and the French Quarter jazz clubs, Feisty Freddy FitzPatrick. He’s been a guest on the show before with his jazz ensemble. This season he comes back to join us as a dancer alongside defending champion Sharon Nichols. Welcome back, Freddy.”

The large black man leaned in and kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “The pleasure is all mine, darlin’,” he said, the sultry slur of the South rampant in his voice. “I’ve wanted to do the show since the first time I played for them, and this season it worked out.”

“And we’re so glad it did,” the host said. “What cause will you and Sharon be supporting this season?”

“D’ya need to even ask?” Freddy said. “Save the Music, of course. That is, the VH1 Save the Music Foundation. I always forget to say the whole name.”

The host laughed. “I should have known.”

“I remember him!” Abuela grinned as she thought back to the night Feisty Freddy had performed during the results show. “He was fun!”

“He was.” Mama remembered the night as well, particularly how her then seven-year-old daughter had danced to Freddy’s song, and she was glad to see him back. “I’m not sure he’ll be good at dancing, though.”

“He could be one of those people who loses weight on the show,” Abuela said with a shrug. “I hope he does. I think he’ll be fun to watch.”

“Yes. Solita will be thrilled. She made me buy some of his music after he performed, and she still listens to it.” Mama smiled at the memory. “I hope she’s not too disappointed that he’s dancing instead of playing.”

“She’ll like him whatever he’s doing.” Abuela shook her head. Solita was a handful, passionate about things she liked, and she would be excited just to see Freddy on her television screen. “He could sit on a chair and do nothing and she’d watch.”

Mama laughed. “True.”

“And now, another former Olympian—from the Winter Olympics this time—ice-skating champion and businesswoman Deborah McMillan, and her partner, Brody Flanagan,” Elizabeth announced.

The woman who appeared on screen had retained some of the athleticism that had taken her to the heights of figure skating, but her conservative suit proclaimed her current profession as clearly as the announcer’s introduction. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to the season and to getting back in shape. I had to take some ballet when I was still skating, but this should be a different kind of challenge. Brody assures me he’s up for it.”

“And what charity will you be dancing to support?”

“Count Me In, a charity that helps women start their own businesses,” Deborah replied.

Mama smiled in delight as Deborah introduced herself. She remembered her from the Winter Olympics when she was a teenager, and it was good to see her doing well. “Oh! I didn’t know she went into business!”

“Yes. She owns Arabesque.”

“Really?” It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in Los Angeles, a place nearly impossible to get into without celebrity status above that usually found on Dance Off. “I didn’t know that.”

“She owns a restaurant group.” Abuela had also been a fan of Deborah the year she skated in the Winter Olympics, and she’d followed the news when Deborah had purchased her first restaurant, Salchow. It had seemed almost magical at the time, when women weren’t encouraged to aspire to be more than secretaries. “There’s a few others too. I think that one Solita and Roberto like is one of them.”

“Oh.” Mama made a note to look it up—or ask JC to look it up for her—later and returned her gaze to the television. She’d have to tell Solita and Roberto later. “Good for her.”

“And now our youngest star of the season, rapper Kevan, and his partner, Lisa Murray,” the host announced.

The young man came out onto the stage conservatively attired in a sports coat and light-colored slacks. “Thank you. It’s a real trip to have been asked to do this show. I’ve been, like, a fan for seasons. My homeboy Little Z was on the show a couple of seasons ago and said it was da bomb, so when the chance to do it came up, I jumped at it.”

“And what charity have you chosen to represent?”

“The Boys & Girls Club of America,” Kevan said. “They work with at-risk kids to try to keep them out of gangs and off the streets.”

“Oh, Roberto and Manuel are going to love him.” Mama grinned as she watched the young rapper on stage. His conservative dress contrasted with the usual baggy pants, T-shirts, and jewelry he wore in the posters on her sons’ walls.

“If they recognize him,” Abuela commented dryly. She’d seen the posters too, and barely recognized the young man on-screen.

“They will.” The rest of Mama’s children were in Texas with their father, unable to leave school and work to come to Los Angeles like Mama had, but she knew they’d be watching because JC was on, and her two youngest sons would be thrilled.

“Our next celebrity dancer is Dawn Woodhouse, best known for her beloved performances as Trixie in the Trixie Belden mysteries miniseries, and her partner, Preston Ross. Welcome, Dawn.”

“You would bring up Trixie, wouldn’t you?” the actress, well into her forties now, commented with a laugh. “I’m not quite as boyish as I was then.”

“I remember her!” Mama grinned at the memory of her childhood favorite. “I haven’t seen her in anything for a while.”

Abuela nodded. “You watched that show so much I had to buy the tapes for you.” She shook her head, lamenting that of all the shows her daughter had fallen in love with, it had been those instead of some good Spanish television. “I never could get you to watchEl Chavo del Ocho.”

“Trixie was so pretty! I wanted to be her.” Mama looked closer at the television, taking in Dawn’s elegant look. “She’s still gorgeous.”

“You wanted to get into trouble,” Abuela corrected, though she too had to admit that Dawn had aged well.

“And what charity are you supporting this season?” the host asked the former child star.

“The March of Dimes,” Dawn said. “I lost a sister at an early age because she was born too early to live. The work the March of Dimes does has helped fund research that saves babies born her age and even earlier now. They deserve all the support I can give them.”

“Good for her.” Abuela’s sister had lost a child born prematurely as well, and she’d seen how it had affected her. “I’m glad she picked them.”

“Yes.” It wasn’t a charity as close to Mama’s heart as to her mother’s, but she still supported the idea behind it. “It’s a good reason to support it too. We know it means something to her.”

“And now, an extra special guest, talk-show host Eugene Carruthers, host of The Right Way, and his partner, Carmen Ibañez.” The reaction of the crowd betrayed more than a little surprise. Carruthers got polite applause but none of the wild cheering like some of the earlier stars. “What charity are you supporting, Eugene?”

“The Multiple Sclerosis Society,” Eugene said without ever looking at the partner on his arm.

Mama rolled her eyes and made a disgusted noise. “I hate that man.” He was known for his socially conservative values, in particular his strong stance on immigration, and tended to assume all Hispanics were in the United States illegally. “I hope he’s the first one voted off.”

“I hope he doesn’t cause problems for Javi,” Abuela murmured, her mouth turned down as she stared at the television. JC was visible in the back corner—the only thing that kept her from looking away completely—and she tried to focus on him despite the camera’s focus on Eugene.

“Or Carmen,” Mama agreed with a frown. “I like her.”

“And now the question that has been on the minds of America for over a year. She was named the most beautiful woman in the country as the winner of the Miss America pageant in 2010, but can Amber Moore dance? She’s here this season to find out along with her partner, Tyler Harrell.”

“I doubt it.” Mama snorted. She didn’t have a high opinion of Amber. Every time she was on television, which was a lot since she’d won the pageant, she was either standing around looking vapid or partying. “I’ll be surprised if she makes it past the first elimination.”

“I hope she does. That way Eugene can go.” Abuela sighed, not happy with either of the last two contestants. “All the men watching will probably vote for her so they can stare at her more.”

“I’m absolutely thrilled to be here supporting Amnesty International,” Amber said, beaming at the talk show host.

“Thank you, Amber. And now our final star this season, a relative newcomer to the United States, rugby star Olivier Gautier and his partner, Tricia Kettner. Olivier, what convinced you to giveDance Offa try?”

“We have a similar show in France,” Olivier said. “I watch it sometimes with my family, and so when the chance came to dance here, I said, why not?”

“And your charity?”

“Médecins Sans Frontières,” Olivier said. “Doctors Without Borders. The work they do around the world deserves every recognition we can give them.”

“Oh, he’s cute.” Abuela grinned and nudged Mama with her elbow. “Do you think Javi will like him?”

Mama tilted her head to the side as she studied Olivier. “Maybe. He’s going to focus on dancing, though, and you know how he gets when he’s focused.” There had been many times when they’d despaired of getting JC out of the pool when he was practicing because he’d been so focused on his laps.

“True, but how could you not notice that?” Abuela leered at the screen, waggling her eyebrows up and down. “I want him to stay on until the end.”

“Mama!” Mama cast an appalled look toward her mother. “We’re rooting for Javi!”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t want him to make the finals.” Abuela grinned. “He can come in second, maybe. Then we get to watch him all season.”

CHAPTER 2

OLIVIERGAUTIERlooked around the staging area of the American talk show where the names of this season’s competitors were first announced and sized up his competition. Most of the names and faces were unfamiliar to him, the disadvantage of not being American or living here long enough to be steeped in the culture. Two years spent playing rugby almost constantly had not given him a lot of leisure time. The musician, Freddy, was older and overweight. Olivier had heard tales of people losing twenty or thirty pounds while on the show, but at least at first, Freddy would be at a disadvantage. He dismissed Eugene out of hand. He might be clueless about American culture, but he recognized a bigot when he saw one. Eugene was entitled to his opinions, but Olivier was equally entitled to avoid him. He suspected he’d take enough flak from Eugene for being French. If Eugene knew the rest of his secrets, he’d never hear the end of it. Troy was a competitor but not an athlete. He spent all of his time in his car. His mental toughness couldn’t be discounted, but he didn’t have the body of an athlete. The two other male stars, though, would bear watching. Kevan was a singer, not an athlete, but even looking at him in a conservative shirt and pants, Olivier could see the muscle beneath. The man worked out and kept himself in shape. And then there was JC. An Olympic swimmer with four medals to his name. If anyone in the competition had the physical stamina to compete with Olivier, it would be JC.

JC Webster was about to lean in and say something to Chelsea to break the ice when he saw the rugby player watching him and decided to go say hello. He touched Chelsea lightly on the arm, not wanting to leave her behind, and crossed the stage, taking the long way to get to Olivier so he could avoid walking too close to Eugene. He’d almost missed both Amber and Olivier being introduced, he’d been so busy glaring daggers at Eugene’s back, and he didn’t intend to spend even a second more than he absolutely had to in the man’s presence. Olivier, on the other hand, looked exactly like the kind of person he’d like to know better, and he put on his brightest smile—the one he used at PR events—as he sauntered up, Chelsea right behind him. “Hey. I’m JC.”

“’Ello,” Olivier said. “Olivier Gautier.” He offered his hand. “I watched you swim last year. You are fast.” He winced at the inanity of his comment, but he hated small talk, and living in the US for two years hadn’t made doing it in English any easier.

JC laughed, ducking his head at the compliment even as he took Olivier’s offered hand. He knew he was fast—he wouldn’t have made the US Olympic Team if he wasn’t—but it never stopped embarrassing him to have it so casually mentioned. “Thanks. I’ve never seen you play. Sorry.” He hated that he had to say that, especially since he’d seen all the other contestants in something, but the little time he spent sitting around watching sports was dedicated to American football with his father or cheering the Olympic teammates he’d befriended during the 2012 London Games.

“Rugby is not a well-known sport here,” Olivier said with a shrug. “I knew that when I came to play, but it has been worth it. I don’t know these people, even by name. Only what the host says in the introduction. Who will be competition for us?”

“Deborah, probably. She used to be a gymnast and figure skater, so she’s got some talent in the right area. It looks like she’s stayed in shape too. Other than her….” JC shrugged, mentally sizing up the rest of the stars. “Rini, maybe, or Kevan. They’re not athletes, but they’re in shape, and they’re young enough that the hours won’t be too hard on them.”

“I’d guess either Amber or Makayla too,” Chelsea said, nodding a greeting at Tricia and Olivier. “They’re young and in shape.”

“And a little more interested in how they look than how they dance.” JC knew what his mother and grandmother thought of both women and shared their views.

Chelsea grinned, looking around the stage at the other stars and their partners. “You might be surprised.”

“And Tyler and Joel are fierce competitors,” Tricia, Olivier’s partner, added. “They aren’t afraid to push the boundaries. Not that any of us got here by being lazy or conservative in our dancing, but those two are always the ones to beat, even with partners you wouldn’t expect to do well.”

“And my partner?” Olivier asked with a flirtatious smile. He might prefer to sleep with men, but that didn’t keep him from appreciating a beautiful woman when he saw one. “Is she one to beat as well?”

“With a man like you to lead me around the floor? Hell, yeah.”

JC laughed at the flirting and let his gaze roam over both Olivier and Tricia, hoping Eugene wasn’t watching. He wasn’t ashamed of being bisexual, but he really didn’t want to deal with comments from Eugene tonight. That would be two strikes against him. “I don’t know,” he said, winking at Tricia and slinging his arm around Chelsea’s shoulders. “I think Chelsea got the better end of the deal.” Chelsea laughed and patted his chest. “Of course I did. But I wouldn’t mind trading for Olivier, if you get bored with him, Tricia.”

Olivier would trade with Chelsea too, especially since he knew JC was bisexual. That didn’t mean he was automatically interested in Olivier, but it meant he might be open to persuasion. He’d wait until he knew his partner a little better before saying that where she could hear him, though. They had to work as a team, and if she distanced herself from him because he was gay, they would start the season with a handicap.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and end up on one of the team dances together,” Tricia said. “If we get that far, of course.”

Olivier looked around the room at the other celebrities again. “We will get that far.”

“Absolutely.” JC flashed a grin, glad he’d found a kindred competitive spirit in Olivier. “Even if we’re all right and everyone we mentioned is competition, that’s still seven, including us. Isn’t that when they start the team dances?”

“Usually. But they like to mix it up sometimes too.” Chelsea glanced over to where Elizabeth, the Dance Off host, was talking to Christine. “Elizabeth might know, but sometimes the producers don’t even tell her until a few weeks ahead of time.”

“It is not worth asking now,” Olivier said. “We have other dances to learn first. Do we have our first assignment?”

“We have a cha-cha,” Tricia said. “What did you get, Chelsea?”

“Fox-trot.” Chelsea rubbed her hand over JC’s chest. “I get to have this one all dressed up in a nice suit.”

JC laughed. “I’m not sure I clean up all that well.” Mostly he felt like a little kid wearing his grandfather’s clothes when he wore a suit, his long limbs always making it hard to find shirts and jackets that fit both in the arms and the torso, and he’d yet to wear one that didn’t feel awkward from the moment he put it on. “I guess we’ll see, though. Do we get to watch the other dancers this year?” He was looking forward to seeing Olivier and Tricia in the revealing outfits that usually accompanied the Latin dances.

“I’m sure you do,” Tricia said, saving Olivier from trying to find a way to say the same thing. “In the meantime, I get to take off Olivier’s shirt.” She ran her fingers down the line of buttons holding Olivier’s dress shirt closed.

“Open, maybe,” Olivier said. “Not off.” He had recovered physically from the car accident that had benched him for a season, but he still bore the scars on his back and left shoulder. He had no plans to go on national TV without them covered.

“Start with open,” JC suggested, his eyes twinkling. “Then if you make it far enough in the season, you can take it off. You don’t want to give the viewers everything the first week.” He’d regret saying that if the first week was Olivier’s only week and he never got the opportunity to see Olivier shirtless, but he’d take open for now.

“You can use it to convince them to vote for you,” Chelsea said with a grin. “Just so long as you don’t take our votes.”

Olivier laughed as he knew they expected him to, but he also knew where his comfort level lay. “We will see, but you will have votes to spare. Everyone knows JC Webster after the Olympics. Me, I’m just an unknown rugby player from France. The judges will have to save me, not the voters.”

“Oh, I think you’ll get plenty of votes on your own, especially if you show your chest.” JC laughed, letting his gaze roam over Olivier again. “Look at the competition.” Troy wasn’t bad-looking—a little scruffy and rugged, perhaps, but not ugly. Kevan and Freddy had a certain appeal in their own way, Kevan with his very boyish looks and Freddy with the kind of face that made people want to like him, but their appeal was limited. Eugene might appeal to the older crowd, though JC thought his personality nullified his classic looks, but none of them could match Olivier for sheer mass appeal. Even JC, with his classic Hispanic looks, couldn’t quite match him, though he wasn’t being arrogant when he thought that he was probably second in line as far as mass appeal went.

Olivier studied the men. “Perhaps, but the men will all vote for Amber or Makayla, and many women may as well because they wish to be like them.”

“That’s probably true,” Tricia agreed, “but there’s nothing like the appeal of a good-looking man, and most of ourviewers are female. We’ll look at what our options are and what you’re comfortable with, but don’t discount plain old sex appeal when it comes to winning votes.”

“Just don’t count on it to replace dancing, either,” Chelsea added. “It might get you through a week or two if your dancing isn’t what it should be, but eventually people will vote for the person who can dance over the eye candy.” She glanced up at JC. “That goes for you too.”

JC held up his hands and took a step back. “I’m planning to work hard!” The idea of doing anything less would never occur to him. He was here because it was good publicity now that the Olympics were more than a year in the past and because his mama loved the show and had been thrilled at the idea, but he wasn’t the kind of person who did anything halfway. He’d committed, and he was going to do everything he could to win. Besides, the Trevor Project needed all the funding it could get, and it was something he really did believe in. If he could get that top prize, it would help so many kids.

And probably piss Eugene and his cronies off a lot too.

That was just a bonus, though, not the goal. As his gaze drifted over to Eugene, drawn by the thought, he noticed Carmen, Eugene’s partner, standing off to the side, and he rolled his eyes. “I’ll workwithyou too,” he added, glaring at Eugene for a moment before turning back to his partner. “I can’t promise I’ll get all the dances, but I’ll do my best to learn.”

That was the attitude that had made JC a champion. Olivier turned to Tricia and asked, “How soon do they let us start?”

“Tomorrow morning at eight o’clock,” Tricia said. “We can hang out and talk all we want tonight when we get to the house you’ll all be staying in, but we can’t start actually training until tomorrow morning. Now, if you decided you wanted to go study videos of previous seasons’ cha-chas, that wouldn’t technically be considered training.”

Olivier laughed. “But perhaps it would still be considered starting too soon. We will start in the morning like everyone else. I am not afraid of long hours of rehearsal. It cannot be harder than long hours of running drills on the rugby pitch.”

“Or long hours in the pool,” JC added with a grin. It would use different muscles, he knew, and he was sure he’d be sore by the end of the day, but the hours wouldn’t be a problem. “If we can’t start until eight, it’ll feel like I get to sleep in.”

Chelsea smirked. “It won’t for long. I promise, you’ll hate mornings within a week.”

JC slung his arm over her shoulders. “Impossible.”

“Tomorrow is the only day with a start time,” Tricia explained. “After tomorrow, you can start as early and work as long as you and your partner can stand each other, but remember that you have fourteen weeks of rehearsal if you make it to the finals. You don’t want to wear yourself out too soon.”

“Part of being an athlete is knowing how to pace yourself so you peak at the right time,” Olivier said. “JC knows this too.”

“Exactly. I know my body, and I’m sure Olivier does too. Just like you do,” he added, squeezing Chelsea’s shoulder.

“Hey, now!” Joel came up on Chelsea’s other side and slipped an arm around her waist. “Are you hitting on my girl?”

“Your girl?” JC raised an eyebrow and took a step back, pulling his arm free of Chelsea’s shoulder.

“Just because she’s your dance partner doesn’t mean she has to give up the rest of her life,” Joel said.

“Joel,” Chelsea scolded. “Quit acting like a jealous boyfriend. We’ve been over this. We hug and kiss and flirt with our partners for the cameras and go home to each other when it’s over.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t give him a hard time.” Joel stepped free of Chelsea and held his hand out to JC, then Olivier. “It’s nice to meet you both. Just ignore me. I say all sorts of stuff I don’t mean. I have to psych you two out so Makayla can win.”

He pulled his partner close, slipping his arm around her waist.

Makayla giggled as she wrapped her arm around Joel, leaning in possessively. Chelsea might get to go home with Joel for now, but it looked like Makayla was going to take advantage of every minute she got to be the one wrapped around him. “That’s right. We’re going to kick your asses. Joel here is the best.”

“It is hard to argue with a record like his,” Olivier agreed before turning to Tricia. “And should I be worried about a jealous lover appearing to steal you away as well?”

“Only a feline one,” Tricia said with a laugh. “She gets pissy if I don’t come home and feed her in the evenings, but she’s the only demand on my time.”

Olivier grinned at her before turning to the other two couples. “And this is why we will win this season. No distractions.”

JC gave Olivier a once-over and curled his lips into a smirk. “Oh, I don’t know. I bet we could come up with one for you.”

Chelsea smacked him lightly on the arm. “Focus! Joel and I are pros at this. Our relationship won’t interfere with us winning.”

“You mean us winning,” Joel corrected.

Olivier left them to their bickering, far more intrigued by JC’s unabashed perusal. Some of the swimmer’s other comments and glances could have been open to interpretation, but there was no missing the frank appraisal in that one. Perhaps this method of filling the off-season would be less tedious than he had imagined.

He smiled slowly, leaving it up to JC to decide how to interpret his reaction. “We will see who the winner is,” he agreed. In more ways than one.

CHAPTER 3

JCFOUGHT back a yawn as he walked up the sidewalk to the converted hotel serving as a dance studio as well as a residence for those stars who didn’t have a place in Los Angeles. It wasn’t early for him, per se, but the official introductions on the talk show and talking about them with his mama and abuela when he’d gotten back to his cousin’s house had kept him up past his usual bedtime, and the commute across town required he get up earlier than he would have liked.

The front door was unlocked, and JC slipped inside, taking a moment to gape at the opulent lobby before heading down the hall on the right toward the studios. He was early, but not by much, and when he opened the door to Studio 8—once the Magnolia meeting room, he noticed with amusement—he could hear Chelsea moving inside. “Hello?”

“Hi, JC!” Chelsea said with what JC thought was far too much energy for that hour of the morning. “Ready to start work? I’ve got the basic choreography all planned, but I’ve also got a few extras I want to see if we can work in. It never hurts to set the bar high the first week. Then the judges look favorably on you later.”

JC laughed as he set his bag down and pulled Chelsea into a hug. “I’m always ready to work.” He’d have to drink an extra cup of coffee tomorrow, though, if he was going to have to learn choreography in the morning.

“Fantastic!” Chelsea said, hugging him back. She led him over to two chairs sitting against a mirrored wall. “So before we get started, do you have any dancing experience? Ballroom dancing classes in seventh grade? A girlfriend who made you learn to waltz for the prom? Anything like that?”

“I’ve, uh, had to dance at a few quinceañeras, so I can sort of waltz?” JC shrugged. He doubted vague memories of dancing at a few parties when girls he knew turned fifteen really counted, but Chelsea had asked about any experience at all. “Nothing other than that, though. I’m much more graceful in the water than out of it.”

“Then we’ll start at the beginning,” Chelsea said. “At least you’re graceful somewhere. Some of the people I’ve gotten partnered with in the past wouldn’t know grace if it hit them with a ten-foot pole.” She stood up and gestured for him to do the same. “So dances are divided into ballroom and Latin, and in ballroom dances, some parts are in hold and some are out of hold. The fox-trot can have a mixture of in hold and out of hold, but if you can’t manage the hold, the rest doesn’t matter.”

“All right.” JC stood where Chelsea had indicated. “How do I do the hold?” He let Chelsea manipulate his arms into position, his right hand on her waist and his left hand holding her right at shoulder level. It felt strange, the long arms that gave him an advantage in the pool making the hold awkward, but he did his best to stand exactly how Chelsea wanted him. “Like this?”

“It’s a good start,” Chelsea said. “Think of yourself as the frame. If you’re in this position, I can move around and look pretty and win points, but if your posture slips, then we both end up looking bad. Now, the basic steps of the fox-trot are like this: slow-slow-quick-quick. Try it with me.”

Slow-slow-quick-quick sounded simple, but between thinking about his feet, trying not to step on Chelsea’s feet, and keeping his body in the frame, it was a lot harder than it sounded. It took several tries for him to get through the sequence once, and by the time he’d managed it multiple times in a row, he was more frustrated than he could ever remember getting while swimming.

“Okay, deep breath,” Chelsea said when JC had almost reached his breaking point. “You’re training your body to do something new. You can’t expect that to happen the first time you try it. You weren’t winning gold medals the first time you got in the pool, were you?”

“No.” JC took the deep breath as commanded. “Apparently, I almost drowned. My parents didn’t want me to go near a pool again, but I insisted. They finally got me lessons, and the rest is history.”

“We’re still at the almost drowning stage,” Chelsea said, “but we won’t be that way for long. I know you’re frustrated because you’re used to your body doing what you tell it to effortlessly, but you’re doing a lot better than my partner last season. Believe me, you’ll get this.”

JC laughed. “If this is a lot better than last season, I’m not sure I want to know how badly that first day went.” He shook his arms, rolled his head, and stepped back into hold. He did feel a little better. “All right, let’s try this again.”

“Show me your frame,” Chelsea directed.

“WEARE doing the cha-cha?” Olivier asked when he came into the studio for the first morning of training. He knew the names of most of the ballroom dances, even in English, but that was about the extent of his knowledge.

“We are.” Tricia pulled Olivier into a hug and kissed his cheek before she pulled back. “The other teams have either the fox-trot or the cha-cha. Have you ever danced it before?”

Olivier chucked. “Tricia, chérie, I have danced le rock, which we dance at parties and weddings in France, and I have danced in clubs when I was interested in… what is the expression? Getting laid? That is all the dancing I know.”

Tricia laughed. “All right, we’re starting from scratch, then.” She pulled Olivier into the center of the room. “The basic step of the cha-cha is two, three, cha-cha-cha.” She demonstrated the steps as she said them, starting with her left foot so Olivier could see the steps he would be dancing.

Olivier figured he’d have a lot to learn about dancing, but if there was one thing rugby had taught him, it was how to move his feet. He mimicked Tricia’s footwork with relative ease. “If that’s as difficult as it gets, we may be able to do this after all.”

“Very good.” Tricia was genuinely impressed with Olivier’s footwork. It was still rough, but not many people were able to get even the basics of the steps right on the first try. “There’s a little more to it than that, but it’s a good start.”

“So what is next?” Olivier asked. “Or should we keep practicing this first?” He bit back his instinctive impatience, the other virtue rugby had taught him, knowing how important it was to master one aspect of a skill before moving on to the next.

“Let’s get this right before we move on to something else. Don’t shift your weight all the way on the first step. And keep your right leg completely straight. Like this.” Tricia demonstrated the step again, slower this time. “Two, three, cha-cha-cha. See?”

Olivier imitated her again. His feet went where he told them to, but his hips were less cooperative. “I feel like I am shaking my ass for the whole world to see.”

“You are.” Tricia smirked. “Remember what we talked about yesterday with JC and Chelsea? This is that sex appeal that will win you votes.”

“Yes, but I have to look sexy doing it,” Olivier reminded her. “There is nothing sexy about the way I am moving right now.” He repeated the steps, trying to smooth the movement and add a little vavoom to the flow, but that messed up his feet. “See?”

“Don’t worry too much about your hips. You’ll throw yourself off if you try too hard. Focus on your feet. If you get your legs right, your hips fall into place.” Tricia did the steps again. “See? My hips move because I shift my weight.”

Olivier tried again, focusing on his feet and legs instead of his hips. It still felt awkward, but in the mirror, it looked more like what Tricia was showing him. He tried it a few more times. “Is it getting any better?”

“Yes.” Tricia moved behind Olivier and put her hands on his shoulders. “Now keep your shoulders still. We want your hips to move, not your whole upper body. Try again.”

Olivier did it again, losing the position of his legs somewhat as he tried to keep his upper body still. “Merde,” he muttered. “This is harder than it looks.”

“You’re doing great,” Tricia assured him. “You’ve picked up the basics quickly. Practice it a little more, and then we’ll move on to the next part.”

Olivier ran through the basic step a few more times until he didn’t feel like he had to concentrate on every aspect of every movement. He knew it wouldn’t stay this simple, but at least he felt like he was doing something right. “What now?”

“Now you do the same thing, only start with your right foot. Your weight should already be on your left foot when you finish, so you move straight into the next set. Like this.” Tricia demonstrated, starting with her left foot and moving straight through to the second set of steps. This time she counted solely using the beats. “Two, three, four-and-one, two, three, four-and-one.”

“Slowly,” Olivier said, shaking his head. He understood what Tricia wanted, but his eyes could only process so much at first. She repeated the steps, and he moved with her, trying to match her steps and alternate from leading foot to leading foot. “You are going to be sorry you ended up paired with me.”

“No I won’t. You’re doing really well. You know the steps. Now try to do them without thinking so hard. Focus on your shoulders.” Tricia stood behind Olivier and put her hands on his shoulders, holding them as still as she could. “Try again.”

Olivier did as Tricia said, focusing on keeping his shoulders as still as possible beneath her hands while still moving his feet as she’d taught him. It took a few tries, but with a little more work and a lot of concentration, he managed to do what she wanted.

“Excellent.” Tricia grabbed two bottles of water from the corner and handed one to Olivier. “Here. Rest for a minute. We’ll start on choreography in a few minutes.”

JCSTRETCHED