Page 32 of Finding Her Strength

“Sara. She’s like the sister I never had. I feel that way about all the girls because we’ve been friends since we were little. Sara was awful, but I didn’t do too bad.”

Hope smiles at me, her shoulders relaxing a bit, which only confirms my theory about her being jealous. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Oh, really?”

Hope nods, her smile growing wider. I love how she’s excited about this. I was worried she would want to go home the minute she found out what I had planned.

We finish our drinks at the same time the instructor tells us to gather on the floor. There are about ten other couples surrounding us while others are sitting around the bar, watching the lesson.

Hope and I watch the instructors explain how to do the first steps while a popular country song plays. When it’s time for us to try on our own, I turn to Hope with my hand held out to her. The minute she grabs it, I pull her in close to me, wrapping my other arm around her waist.

“This okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, biting her lip as she stares up at me with desire sparking in her dark brown eyes. I squeeze her hip, then start leading her in the moves, trying to distract myself from the lust coursing through my body. It backfires, of course, because Hope is an amazing dancer. The way her body moves against mine only has my hormones racing faster. I have to keep my hips angled away from her so she doesn’t feel the effect she has on me.

We start attempting more advanced moves, the instructorhelping us to move on faster than the rest of the group. I spin her around, causing her yellow dress to flare out. Each spin makes Hope’s smile grow. Our eyes never stray from each other as our bodies find the perfect rhythm together.

In all the time I’ve known her, which admittedly isn’t long, I’ve never seen happiness radiate off her like this. She’s glowing, and being the one to bring her this joy has created this bubbly feeling in my chest I never want to go away.

We start to wind down on the lessons, and people start walking off the dance floor to get drinks. I keep Hope in my arms for a few more minutes because I’m not quite ready to let go.

“I have to say, I’m impressed.” Hope grins up at me.

“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you.”

“Do you want to grab another drink?”

“In a minute. Let’s finish this song first.”

Hope graces me with a happy smile, nodding her head in agreement. I can’t take my eyes off her. For the first time in my dating history, I don’t want this night to end. I’m not looking for an out or a way to move things along quicker. I would be content to stand here, holding Hope in my arms for the rest of the night.

Seeing Hope slowly lower her walls has made me feel like I’ve won the best prize. Being the one she’s chosen to open up to is the best gift I could ever receive. Especially knowing it’s not easy for her to lower her guard around others.

I’m nervous I’m going to screw this up somehow. She deserves the world, and I want to be the one to give it to her. If that means it takes every ounce of effort I have to prove I’m worthy of her, then I’ll do it. I have a feeling she’s everything I’ve been looking for in a partner because, right now, with her body against mine, I’ve never been happier.

It always felt like the women I dated didn’t think I was good enough for a long-term relationship—like I didn’t havethe right qualities. But having Hope in my arms proves I just hadn’t found the right person to settle down with.

As the song ends, I realize we’re going to have to leave soon. Neither one of us are huge drinkers, and since the lesson is over, the bar is getting louder, which will make talking difficult.

We step off the dance floor, my hand on Hope’s lower back as I lead her back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?”

“No, I think I’m okay.” Hope’s eyes are on me, cataloging every expression I make. I can see the tension in her shoulders; I’m just not sure where it’s coming from.

“Are you ready to go home?”

“Um, I guess.” Her hesitant answer has me wondering if she’s not ready for the night to end yet, either.

I take her hand to lead her out of the bar, her fingers twisting around mine so delicately, I want to squeeze them tight so she can’t get away. We make our way back out to my truck, and I help her up into the cab.

How can I ask her to keep the night going without it sounding like I want to sleep with her? I mean, I do want to sleep with her, but not tonight. Tonight, I want to keep learning more about her. Keep getting closer to her so we can both be comfortable with the idea of dating each other.

My thoughts keep swirling as I drive us home. Hope must be in her head, as well, because she doesn’t say much, either. The rumbling engine seems loud with the radio off.

My nerves return as I pull into her driveway, my headlights shining on her house, highlighting the small front porch, wooden porch swing, and black front door. I turn the truck off, then step out onto the driveway. Hope beats me to opening her door, and I meet her at the front of the truck. We walk side-by-side up the sidewalk, the front porch light guiding our way to the door. The air is perfectly tepid,making me want to spend a little more time in the fresh air, looking at the stars.

Standing outside her front door, I watch her fiddle with her keys. I can’t stand the unknowns anymore. “I’m not ready for the night to end yet.”

Hope’s eyes fly to mine, uncertainty and hope glowing in her gaze.

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