She wasn’t wrong.
His focus blurred. He couldn’t remember the counts, couldn’t hear the crowd. He only knewher. The drag of her breath, the slide of her leg hooking behind his, the staccato rhythm of her heart when she pressed herself into his chest like a promise. Every step they missed, every stumble they recovered from, was buried in the heat between them.
She arched in his arms like a woman being worshipped. He caught her, barely, her back a perfect curve against his forearm. Her mouth parted. Their faces too close, breaths tangling.
The lyrics of the song dropped like a blade, and he felt them in his spine. He definitelydidn’twant to fall in love, but it’d hit him like a puck to the chest. Okay, not love.Fuck no. Butsomething. Something electric and unbearable and deeper than the skin-slick chemistry the show wanted. Something that crawled into his chest andstayed.
They hit the final pose, her leg curled high around his hip, his hand locked low on her spine, foreheads a breath apart. For a moment, they didn’t move except to gasp for air. Neither of them could speak, and he couldn’t tear his eyes off her. The lights came up and the crowd exploded, but they didn’t break until the applause forced them to.
He let go of her slowly, like he expected to see her name etched in scar tissue on his palms. She stepped back with a dancer’s grace, and they turned toward the judges, hearts still racing.
They barely made it off the floor beforeTake the Floor’s host descended. Indie Clarke was sequined chaos and camera-ready charm, sweeping in like a golden retriever with a vendetta. Her mic was up, her smile was weaponized, and she sported a blowout that could survive a hurricane. Indie beamed at the pair like she’d been waiting all week to stir the pot with national viewership.
“Holyhell,” she said, her gaze bouncing between them like she couldn’t decide who looked more emotionally compromised. “I think the temperature in here just rose ten degrees! Nate, you good? Need a fan? Cold shower? An exorcism?” The audience laughed. “Who knew you hadthatin you!”
He tried to laugh, but it was a little strangled. “Not me, that’s for sure.”
“Holly,” Indie beamed. “What an incredible first number! You must be so proud of Nate! How are you feeling?”
Holly stood there, spine straight, smile razor-sharp, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm from where he’d led her off the floor. “Like that was correct,” she said with a slow smile that the audience ate up. And all he could think about in the back of his mind was how shehadn’tsaid she was proud.
“It absolutely was,” Indie purred. “Let’s see if our judges have any notes. Scores, please, if you’re all still breathing! Let’s hear from Chantreuse Devayne, our Latin expert.”
“Well,” Chantreuse sighed, fanning herself with her scorecard like she was cooling down from a personal spiritual experience. She was the very bothered equivalent of a glamor tyrant. Her gaze sliced across them, unimpressed and enthralled in equal measure.
“That was…intense.Not just dancing, warfare in rhinestones! I saw the story. I felt the hunger. But darlings…” Her mouth quirked, dangerously pleased. “The control wobbled. If you’re going to burn the ballroom down, make sure you don’t trip over the ashes. I’m giving you a 7. Because Ibelievein you… but I refuse to enable you.”
Indie huffed a laugh before wincing in a ‘that’s rough’ expression. “Chantreuse said‘I support you’the way a couture bra supports me, firmly and with judgment. Let's go to Muffy Duncan, winner ofTake the Floorseason 2. Muffy?”
The woman sitting in the middle of the judging table was giving full chaos fairy godmother vibes. She pressed a manicured hand to her forehead as soon as Indie handed over to her.
“Oh myGod,”Muffy gasped, clutching her pearls like they’d just tried to escape her body. “Okay so, yes,somelittle timing things, sure, whatever, who cares.” She waved a hand like timing was more like a guideline and not a requirement.
“But it waspassionate.I felt like I walked into a stranger’s make-out session in a Walmart parking lot, andI loved it.I’m sweating. I’m emotional. I’m sexually confused.” She fannedherself. “I’m giving that a 9 because it made me feel things I’m not legally allowed to unpack on network television.”
Indie smirked at the camera before giving her brows a suggestive wiggle. “Muffy’s giving a 9 like she’s tipping her emotional support stripper with enthusiasm and zero shame. And now we hear from Stan Mahoney, our ballroom expert. Stan?”
Stan leaned forward, squinting like he was watching a slow-motion car crash he respected. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth in the form of pure menace. “Rough,” he said, nodding once. “Yeah. Rough.”
Another nod, bigger this time, as if he were appreciating craftsmanship. “Butfilthy.In the best way. Week one’s not supposed to be polished, it’s supposed to be honest.” He slapped his paddle against the desk. “And that? That washonestly dirty.I’m giving an 8. It was messy… but it wasthe good kind of messy.Like barbecue sauce on a white shirt.”
“Stan just called it filthy and still handed you an 8,” Indie grinned at Nate and Holly before looking at the camera. “That’s basically a standing ovation in Mahoney math. Welcome to week one ofTake the Floor,where, if this keeps up, we’ll need a ratings warning. Nate and Holly have earned a final score of twenty-four out of thirty! Not bad for your first dance, although I have to ask, was all thatchemistryjust for the cameras, or…?”
Indie tilted the mic toward Nate.
He froze.
And then Holly rescued them both by leaning in and smiling so sweetly it made his stomach drop. “If it were,” she smirked, “we’d deserve an Emmy.”
Cue crowd eruption. She leaned back, gave the audience and the cameras a cheeky wave, and then handed the mic back, turned on her heel, and stalked offstage like she hadn’t just left him hard.
Nate followed a few beats later, stunned and clinging to his last working brain cell. Because if that was her acting just for the cameras, then he was totally and utterly screwed.
@BladesAndBallroom on X:
me: he’s an enforcer. he’s here for PR.
also me: i just watched nate eriksson hold holly like a lover in a war zone and now i need a lie-down
