Page 14 of Finding Her Strength

A touch on my arm has me flinching away, and I cringe at my reaction. When I glance up, Levi is staring at me, a frown lining his face. “You surprised me. I didn’t know you were standing right next to me,” I offer as an explanation. It’s not particularly true. I’ve known where he’s been the entire day. I just wasn’t prepared for him to touch me.

His touch feels different than anyone else's, though. When Claire accidentally brushes against me, it feels as if my skin is being peeled off my body. The couple of times Levi has touched me have been met with electricity that buzzes across my skin. It’s alarming and a little addicting if I’m honest.

I’m tempted to keep touching him to fully understand what is happening to me. I want to explore the prickle on my skin that makes goose bumps raise on my arms. Except that would be crazy. To seek out touch voluntarily goes so far out of my comfort zone, it would be insane.

He nods his head and gestures for the door. “Let’s head out.”

I follow him out to the truck while taking a deep breath. This is going to be interesting, to say the least.

9

LEVI

“There are only a few boxes left in the living room and the ones in my bedroom,” Hope says as we enter her apartment. She leads me to the living room and grabs a box from the floor. I avert my eyes to the other boxes to keep from staring at her ass. Her tight leggings highlight every curve she has. It’s been practically torture having to watch her bend over a million times these past few hours.

“This is one of the easier moves I’ve helped out with. Thanks, by the way,” I joke and am graced with one of Hope’s rare smiles. She’s been so serious most of the day. The few times I’ve managed to pull a smile from her made me feel like the king of the world.

When she opened her door this morning, I almost fell over in surprise. I hated the frightened look she had on her face when she saw it was me. I’m not sure why my showing up scared her, but it made me want to wrap her in my arms and protect her from that fear. Which would’ve been the exact opposite of the right thing to do. Luckily, Quinn showed up before Hope had a chance to truly freak out or I did something stupid.

Hope. Her name fits her perfectly. I’m glad I didn’t haveto wait too long to gather that information. I wish I could get a better read on her, though. I’ve caught her staring at me several times over the course of the morning, and it gives me a little thrill each time I do. Granted, she’s caught me staring as many times as I’ve caught her.

“This apartment didn’t lend for collecting much stuff, so I can’t take all of the credit.” We both start grabbing boxes to finish loading the truck.

“It is pretty small, but it’s a cozy kind of small.”

“I thought so, too!” She smiles, and all I can do is stare at her. She’s so beautiful when she’s happy. It makes me want to do anything to keep her that way.

“My apartment is pretty small, as well, but it’s not cozy like this.”

“Typical bachelor pad?”

“Definitely.” I grin at her, and she blushes. “I’m saving up to buy a house to renovate, so buying a bunch of furniture I’m not sure will fit in the house seems dumb.”

“I get that.” Hope puts the box she is carrying onto the tailgate of the truck, then pushes it against the others. “I’ve always wanted to decorate my own house. Most of the places I’ve lived in were already decorated when I got there.” A small frown pulls at her mouth, then she shakes her head as if trying to remove whatever thought came into her head. I want to ask her what she was thinking about, but it feels too personal. I don’t want her to close up on me again. She’s finally feeling comfortable enough to have a conversation.

She starts back up the stairs with me trailing behind her. “As a contractor, I have to follow the wishes of the people I’m building the house for, so I’m looking forward to making all the decisions myself instead of going with what the client wants.”

“I wish I knew how to do that kind of stuff. I’m pretty sure I’d hurt myself if I tried.”

A laugh falls from my chest in surprise at her joke as wewalk into her bedroom to grab the rest of the boxes. Her flowery scent floats through the room, both leftover and from her standing next to me. Being in the very small space has my heart beating against my ribcage.

I do my best to move about the room without touching her. Her reaction earlier told me she doesn’t like to be touched. She didn’t say those specific words, but no one flinches the way she did because they’re surprised. It was almost as if she were bracing for my touch to be harsh instead of gentle.

A slice of anger passes through me at the thought of someone hurting her to the point of causing her fear. How a person can physically or mentally harm someone else will never make sense to me.

“I’ve been doing it for years, and I still hurt myself,” I respond, attempting to pull myself from the thought of Hope being harmed.

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Eh, it’s mostly just me working too quickly or not paying attention.”

“I’m that way with roses. The thorns get me regularly, no matter how many times I work with them,” she says, picking up a box. As soon as it’s in the air, the bottom falls out, letting the contents spill everywhere. “Shit.”

I crouch down to start piling up the clothes scattered on the floor. It’s not until my hand wraps around something silky that I realize what I’m picking up.

Hope’s underwear is scattered all over the floor, and I have to clear my throat at the sexy display of lace, silk, and cotton.

“Oh, my god,” Hope gasps. She scrambles to pull the clothes toward her as a deep blush creeps up her neck. All I can do is smile. A chuckle sneaks through despite my attempts to hold it in. She glares at me, which only has me laughing harder.

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