The Dance Floor

Jaxson

"I don't know how to waltz, Brooks," I muttered as I stood up, smoothing the front of my tuxedo jacket.

"Just put your hand on my waist and don't step on my silk, Reed," Summer whispered back, her hand sliding into mine as we moved toward the center of the polished hardwood floor.

The ballroom lights dimmed, leaving us bathed in a soft, amber glow.

Dozens of couples moved onto the floor, but as the HypeTV crew positioned themselves at the perimeter, a wide circle cleared around us.

I placed my right hand at the small of her back.

The silk of her dress was cool, but the heat of her skin radiated straight through the fabric, warming my palm.

I took her left hand in mine, our fingers interlacing effortlessly.

We began to move.

To my surprise, she was light on her feet, guiding me with a subtle, rhythmic pressure against my shoulder that kept me from tripping over my own dress shoes.

"You're doing fine," she murmured, looking up at me.

The amber light caught the dark depths of her eyes, making the fierce expression she usually wore soften into something incredibly beautiful.

"I'm just following your lead," I said, my voice lower than intended.

“Where did you learn to do this?"

"My dad," she said, a brief shadow of sadness crossing her face before she cleared it.

“Before he lost his job, he used to take my mom and me to these cheesy community galas in our hometown. He insisted every reporter needed to know how to navigate a formal room."

"He sounds like a good man."

"He is," she said softly. She looked at me for a long moment, the music swelling around us.

“Jaxson... Vanessa knows about the contract. She dropped a hint about my scholarship funding."

"She’s Vance’s niece," I growled, my grip on her waist tightening instinctively, pulling her a fraction closer until her chest brushed against my lapel.

"Her uncle probably showed her the internal budget sheets. If she tries to leak that to the campus paper—"

"She won't," Summer said, her eyes steady.

“She’s too focused on her own brand to risk a lawsuit from HypeTV. But Sarah is going to try to force us into a confrontation with her before the night is over. I saw the schedule. They want a 'jeopardy' shot of you dancing with Vanessa."

"I'm not dancing with her," I said flatly.

"You have to," Summer whispered, her dark eyes searching mine with a look that felt dangerously close to real concern.

“If you refuse, it’s a breach. We both know what’s at stake, Jax. Your draft. Your sister's clinic. Just... get through it. I’ll be fine on the sidelines."

I looked down at her, the reality of what she was asking hitting me.

She was willing to let herself be publicly humiliated on television painted as the cast aside fake girlfriend just to protect my future.

"Why are you doing this, Summer?" I asked, my voice thick.

“It’s not just about your tuition anymore, is it?"

The song began to wind down, the final chords of the orchestra lingering in the high rafters of the ballroom.

Summer stopped moving, her hand still resting in mine, her chest rising and falling against my arm.

She didn't answer.

But the look in her eyes—the raw, unprotected vulnerability that she usually hid behind three layers of cynicism told me everything I needed to know.

Before she could speak, a shadow fell over us.

"My turn, I believe," Vanessa Vance’s voice cut in, her green dress rustling as she stepped into our space, her hand already reaching out for my shoulder.