Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It’s official—I’m a goner.
As I lead Sophie back from a turn, she grins up at me, and the rest of the world takes a polite step back.
Every freckle tempts. Every touch buzzes with electricity.
The look of shame last night is gone. Now, she glows.
For the moment, one hand is in mine and the other clutches my shoulder, warm and at ease.
She trusts me to lead with no hesitation and no looking back—completely sure I’ve got her.
Her eyes shine with thrill like this is exactly where she wants to be.
Maybe she’s as done holding back as I am.
Frank was chill about letting Sophie take the far side of the dance floor while the rest of the patrons carried on with the usual.
She was gut-punch gorgeous while she line danced, sliding on the beat-up floorboards, throwing her head back in laughter.
You bet I joined in, and I couldn’t wait to change direction when I faced away from her.
She curled her hair for tonight, and it bounces around her back, pointing down to that skirt that shows off her long, toned legs.
Takes all my self-control to keep my eyes up.
And those boots. She looks so good it hurts.
I can hardly believe I’m holding her hand, leading her around, catching these latte-colored eyes.
I’m burning up, but tonight they’re only making me warmer.
I wish we were dancing to “Free Bird” so I could have nine minutes instead of three.
Please let me shoot my shot with her. Before it’s too late. I know she’s going through some stuff, but I can go through it with her. Please. Just let me have this.
Mabel’s still smells like wood polish, Dr Pepper, and brisket leftovers.
Boots scuff in rhythm. Ceiling fans whirl overhead, and strings of warm bulbs hum above the dance floor.
I grew up here—watched my grandparents spin and laugh under these same dim lights.
Now my parents’ friends are watching from the rail as I spin Sophie back. Mama will hear about this by tomorrow.
Maybe Sophie’d be horrified to hear it, but she belongs here.
First time and she’s already been joking with half the room like she’s a local.
All spark. All glimmer. Fading paint, low ceiling, but she’s got the place switched on.
Laugh loud. Ideas wild. She makes life bigger.
Fuller. Every day’s a thrill just waiting to see what she does next.
I know she likes city lights and crowds, and I could do that.
I’d move to Timbuktu to keep her in my life.
But watching her tonight—free, unguarded—I can’t shake the thought she might be happiest right here in Graham.
Keeping things platonic-ish requires every ounce of my willpower, so when her face turns serious, my chest constricts.
I wish I could keep her here all night, but the song is ending and I’m not gonna screw this up.
One last spin, Sparky. I’m not gonna hurt her if I’m leaving.
I won’t. I allow myself a brush down her forearm as I let her go.
“Thanks for the dance, Soph. Can’t believe you just learned. You killed it.” And I have to walk away.
It’s official—I’m out of my mind. Why would I dance with the guy I desperately want but can’t have? That incredible three minutes made just-friends life fully unbearable. And now he’s asking Mia to dance like it meant nothing.
Since our dance, Austin’s kept his distance—like someone dimmed the lights on us. I’ve gotta fix this. Bring back the color. Normal Us. He sees me coming and pivots, pretending he’s on his way somewhere.
Not so fast, mister. I grab his shirt from behind. “Austin, hold on.”
He spins around with a gulp.
With splayed arms, I pretend to tap dance—no idea why—and answer for him. “Of course, Sophie. I’d love to talk to you for two minutes.” And I throw in an exaggerated smile.
He agrees with a smirk, so I lead him to a wall where we can talk semi-privately.
“Did I make you mad or something?” I ask.
His eyes shift. “Hey there, Mrs. Turner. How are you?” His accent is thicker than it was an hour ago.
I spin to see an elderly woman melting at the sight of him. I get it, but Get in line, lady.
“I’m just splendid, Austin. So nice to see you. And lookin’ so spiffy.”
“Thank you. This is my friend Sophie, from school.”
“Oh, I’ve met Sophie already. Fine as frog hair, idn’t she?”
“Hi again!” I say. “I saw you out there cutting up the dance floor.”
“Oh, I’m just an old fogie gettin’ some exercise.” She chuckles, then gestures at Austin. “Get to dance with this one yet? He’s the best we’ve got.” She lowers her voice. “By a mile, bless their hearts.”
Best what? Dancer? Eligible bachelor? Human being? I bet she means D, all of the above.
“I only ranked one dance,” I say sweetly. “Did you get a turn yet?” I look up at Austin, all innocence.
He suppresses a grin.
“Don’t want my date gettin’ jealous now, do I?” she teases. “Y’all have fun now.” She pats Austin’s cheek. “Tell your mama hello.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When the coast is clear, I spin back to him and poke his chest. “You’ve been avoiding me all night.”
“Oh.”
“Is this about last night?”
“What? No.”
“Then the dance was weird.”
“Ah—” He shuts his mouth when I look at him levelly.
I want past this ASAP. I am not losing my best friend because of a perfect three-minute dance.
“No more dancing and we’re back to normal,” I demand.
He kicks my boot and leans against the wall, looking out at the dance floor.
“Careful. You might scuff your themed footwear.” I join him on the wall. “Think of the alligator that gave its life.”
He just kicks my boot again. I bump him with my shoulder, and he nudges me with his hip.
I let out a breath. Back to normal.
Pajamas on and hair in a messy bun, I curl up in bed late that night.
Oh. Hi. I didn’t pray very much today. I’m sorry.
Mia shuts the door behind her, scarf wrapped around her hair and nosy expression firmly in place. “What’s this about Leo?” And she sings a line of “I Forgot That You Existed.”
I grin. “I could never.” But my smile dies. “I dunno. He broke up with me a few days ago.”
“He did it?”
“He mentioned self-respect.” I grimace.
“Diache. Poor kid.” She flickers her fingers. “You wonder why I want none of that mess.”
“You would never be Leo.”
“No. I’d be you.”
That sits heavy in the room.
“You really think you’ll never get married?” I ask.
“Nunca. Marriage is supposed to be special—one of those rare times two people can be more good for the kingdom than they could be apart. Like a force multiplier. Paul said single people can have undivided devotion to God because we don’t have to worry about taking care of a spouse.
But everybody got it backward, and now that’s the rare thing. ”
“What if God brings someone to you anyway? For real this time.”
“I guess it’s possible. I kind of hope he doesn’t. I’m not slowing down for someone unless God makes me.”
As she pulls out her blood thinner shot, a thought spills in.
I’ve been treating you like I treated Leo. You could never be Leo to me. You’re everything. I’ve been looking at it all wrong. Teach me to see you the right way.