In the high-stakes world of political campaigns, Troi has always been the steadfast force behind Jack Schlossberg's run for office. But when forces threaten to derail everything they've built, Troi and Jack must confront not only political chess gam...
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The ballroom buzzed with energy as the night wore on, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the soft murmur of laughter and conversation. As the music shifted to a slower, more intimate melody, couples began to pair off on the dance floor, swaying gently under the shimmering chandeliers. Strange by Kris Bowers played and I felt serene, witnessing the romance that filled the room. The gala was utterly beautiful, and I was so happy to be a part of this moment.
I found Jack standing by one of the grand windows talking with the Governor of Kentucky, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the city lights outside. I sat at the end of a table with other members of the campaign team talking aimlessly about the night and the following schedule for the next few days. I watched people dance, their souls connected by the music. I was lost in thought, my hand lightly tracing the rim of my glass.
I felt a warm presence next to me. Jack coughed, clearing his throat. "Troi. Would you like to dance?" His voice was low, almost determined, as he held out his hand to me.
I turned to him, a smile playing on my lips. "Of course, I would love to." I placed my hand in his, and he led me to the dance floor. I find myself growing nervous, the thought of people seeing us making my hands sweat. Frankly, to anyone else, we had nothing to hide. We would just be two close colleagues dancing together. Albeit a romantic song, we were just friends if anyone asked.
I didn't want to be just friends, I thought to myself.
We moved together effortlessly, as if we had done this a thousand times before. But there was something different about this dance. It wasn't about politics, or appearances, or the campaign. It was just the two of us, alone in a crowded room, wrapped in the moment.
Jack's hand rested on the small of my back, firm yet gentle, guiding me as we moved to the rhythm. I could feel the warmth of his touch through the fabric of my dress, and it sent a shiver down my spine. His other hand held mine, our fingers intertwined, and I could feel the strength in his grip, the way he held me as if he never wanted to let go. He looked perfectly heavenly, his chocolate hair pushed back and his suit complimenting his skin. My face flushes deeply, my feelings for him starting to overcome me.
We were just friends. Nothing more.
As we danced, I looked up into Jack's eyes. They were dark and intense, filled with something that went beyond desire. It was as if he was seeing me for the first time, not just as a member of his campaign team, but as someone who meant more to him than he had ever admitted to himself.
"You're a beautiful dancer," Jack murmured closely in my ear, his voice barely above a whisper.
"So are you," I replied, my voice soft, almost breathless. "I didn't know you had this in you."
He chuckled, a sound that vibrated through me, and I felt a warmth spread through my chest. "I actually learned how to dance for my high-school prom. I refused to embarrass myself and my date."
