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“It will probably take a while to heal from it all. You can talk to me about any of it, but maybe you should see someone who…knows how to help you heal. I think my church has counselors.” He’s squeezing my hand. “If you want me to, I’ll ask about it.”
I nod. I don’t think I can talk to a stranger about this.
His lips curve slightly. “Let’s start trying to…fill the space with better ones,” he suggests, his voice unsure.
“You’ve already been doing that, almost every day since I met you.” I lean in as my eyes dip down to his lips.
A tiny groan escapes him. “Let’s hold off on that, or we’ll never get to the next part.”
He smiles, opening the door.
I climb out, my legs stiff after sitting so long. “What’s the next part?”
I stretch my arms overhead. He leans into the truck, turning the key enough to play the radio and shine the headlights into the darkening field. He tunes it to a station claiming to play the best Texas country.
“Okay, you ready?” He grins, holding out a hand to me, biceps flexing under his T-shirt sleeves.
I grab it, really not sure where he’s going with this.
He twirls me around, my body crashing into his with a fit of laughter.
“Whoa! Sorry, I’m still learning. Follow my lead, okay?”
One of my favorite Chris Stapleton songs starts to play. Kenna forces me to listen to country music in her Jeep, but it has grown on me.
Adam gently guides me through the steps of a dance I’ve never done. He starts in a two-step but throws in all kinds of moves he definitely didn’t know at the sorority social. I’m twirling around him, the headlights stretching our shadows out like stick figures.
“Where did you learn how to do this?” I exclaim, breathless as he dips me down, my hair brushing the ground.
“I started taking lessons during my lunch breaks,” he says, pulling me closer.
“You’re kidding…that was your mysterious ‘appointment’? Dancing lessons?” I laugh out loud, throwing my head back. “Why?”
He hesitates for a moment, a gentle tempo bringing us back to the simple, slow dance. He holds me tighter, hands gripping my lower back.
“You said you love to dance.” He looks down at me, eyes focusing in on my mouth.
My heart does a little leap. “You took dancing lessons for me?” I whisper.
He presses his forehead to mine, the music swirling around us.
“I…I guess I hoped I’d get another chance to hold you like this.” His deep voice is barely audible.
We sway in the headlights. A new song plays, then another after that. My arms tighten around his neck, my head cradled on his shoulder. I sigh into the blissful sensation of being held, cherished by strong arms.
Will he really be able to protect me from my haunting past?
I push the intrusive thoughts aside, refusing to let them spoil this night.
We finally make our way over to the cab, and I drowsily climb in. I’m drifting in and out of sleep before we even pull onto the highway.
The sensation of being lifted, my body suspended and moving over the ground, is all I feel. Cedar fills my nostrils, my cheek pressed into warm cotton. Something dings, but I can’t force my eyes open to see what. My legs briefly press against cool stone, but then a door clicks open, darkness enveloping me as I’m gently laid onto a soft bed.
“Stay.” I fist the cotton, pulling it toward me.
“I will, baby, always.” He lies down next to me, arms caging me into a sanctuary.
Momster: You’d better be here for your appointment with Seven. He’s willing to overlook the late fees for the scheduled shoot, which is a blessing, Harley. After all I’ve done for you, I can’t believe running away is how you repay me!
