Emancipating Andie Page 3

  “Alright, get back to your invoices. I’ll see you in a bit. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” she said.

  She felt her irritation give way to guilt as she ended the call, staring at her computer screen, at the “invoices” she was working on. Colin had no idea she was writing a novel. She hadn’t told him. It just seemed like such a fanciful thing to do, to devote hours of her time to something that, as of right now, was nothing more than a glorified hobby. She could be doing so many other worthwhile and productive things with her free time. And while there were moments she felt guilty over being deceitful about it with her boyfriend of a year and a half, she always rationalized by focusing on the fact that she hadn’t told anyone, so it wasn’t like she was specifically excluding Colin.

  Andie sat back against the couch and rubbed her eyes roughly with the heels of her hands. “Damn it,” she said as she pushed the computer off her lap, grabbing the mug from the coffee table as she stood.

  She went into the kitchen and made herself another cup of tea before returning to her spot on the couch, taking a slow slip as she tried to get back into the frame of mind she was in only moments before. But even as she pulled the laptop back onto her thighs, Andie knew it was pointless. The moment was gone.

  With an annoyed huff, she pushed the laptop off her legs again and pulled her knees into her chest, wrapping one arm around them and bringing the mug back to her lips. Two entire days, locked in a small space with him again. She could barely survive ten minutes last time.

  Andie dropped her head back and closed her eyes. Maybe she was overreacting. Honestly, if she felt stupid explaining why she didn’t like Chase to Colin, then there was a good chance her reasons for not liking him actually were stupid. Plus, it was possible that she had caught him on a bad day that night in the cellar. Lord knows she wasn’t at her best at that particular moment either. Maybe he’d be different. Maybe she’d be different. Maybe they would have a decent time.

  Or maybe she’d be stuck in the confines of a car with an obnoxious, caustic, antagonistic moron for two entire days.

  She exhaled heavily as she powered down the laptop before bringing it back to her bedroom. She had been looking forward to two whole days alone. While solitude made some people uncomfortable, like Tracey, who would turn on every television she owned to simulate a house full of people when she was by herself, Andie relished her alone time. Whether that was the result of being an only child, or growing up in a house where it was customary for everyone to be off in separate corners of the house doing their own thing for hours at a time, she didn’t know. What she did know was that her two days of pleasant seclusion had just slipped right through her fingers.

  What irritated her more though was that she had planned the whole trip already: when she would leave, where she would stop, when she would sleep, even what music she would listen to. But that was all up in the air now that there were two people involved.

  Few things made her more uncomfortable than the unknown.

  She grabbed her iPod and put it in the dock, starting the playlist she had titled “Mellow” and singing softly to herself in an effort to snap out of it as she rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, collecting the things she’d need to make dinner.

  A little while later, she had just finished dishing everything out onto plates when she heard her front door open. Seven-thirty on the nose, she thought with a smile, bringing the plates to the table. She couldn’t see him yet, but she heard the sounds of him by the door. She knew he’d be taking his shoes off and placing them on the side of the entryway. She knew he’d take off his jacket and drape it over the small half wall. She knew he’d come over and kiss her, and tell her everything smelled delicious. And after dinner, he’d help her clear the table while giving her little kisses and caresses, a prelude of what was to come. It was a routine that was as comfortable as it was predictable; she knew exactly what to expect.

  And in that moment, it had never felt so good.

  “So are you all set?” Colin asked as Andie pulled the car up to the curb.

  “Yeah, I just have to finish packing and then stop by the restaurant tonight.”

  “What time are you heading out tomorrow?”

  “Early. No later than six. If all goes according to plan, I should get down to you sometime Thursday afternoon.”

  “Alright, be careful. I’ll call you when I land,” he said, leaning over to kiss her. It was quick and chaste, but then he leaned in again, this time kissing her fully.

  “Mmm,” she hummed as he ended the kiss, leaning into him as he pulled away from her like they were magnets.

  He smiled to himself as he got out of the car, reaching into the backseat to grab his bags before placing them on the curb. He turned, leaning into the passenger window.

  “I’m really glad Chase is going with you.”

  Her smile dropped, but he seemed not to notice as he blew her a kiss and turned to grab his bags, walking through the automatic doors.

  She watched him go, the seed he had planted with that last sentence slowly growing into a lump of foreboding in her stomach.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Chase McGuire sat on his bed, leaning over in his sleepy haze to zip up the duffel bag at his feet. He needed coffee. It was too damn early to be up, but Colin had told him that Andie wanted to leave by six that morning.

  He still didn’t know why he’d agreed to this.

  He had no problem paying the extra money for a last-minute ticket to Florida, but Colin was insistent that he drive down with his girl instead. He had to admit, it was a little strange to have a guy practically beg him to spend forty-eight hours alone with his girlfriend, but he knew this was about Andie’s safety. Apparently, she was adamant about driving and could not be persuaded to fly down with him.

  He hadn’t thought about Andie much in the past year or so, not since that night in Justin’s wine cellar, but considering what he remembered of her, it seemed fitting that she would stubbornly insist on driving all the way to Florida alone.

  The cab arrived outside, announcing itself with a toot of its horn, and Chase pushed himself off the bed and grabbed his bags, hoisting them onto his shoulder.

  Stubborn.

  That’s what he remembered the most about her, he thought as he slid into the back of the cab and gave the driver Andie’s address, the one Colin had given him when they had solidified these plans.

  But as the gentle rocking of the cab began to lull him, he closed his eyes, and he couldn’t help the other things he started to remember about her now that he was thinking of her again. How awestruck she looked wandering into the cellar that night, and how quickly those big brown eyes had changed from innocently captivated to utterly fierce. That zero-to-sixty, that fiery tenacity, had turned him on more than he liked to admit. He could even vaguely remember what she had been wearing, even though it hadn’t been a particularly sexy outfit.

  At least, it wasn’t supposed to be.

  He remembered the way her jeans fit her like a second skin, the way the low neckline of her shirt straddled the line between classy and painfully seductive.

  His eyes flipped open as the cab came to a stop, bringing him back to the present and his senses.

  He laughed to himself, paying the cab driver. Chase was fully aware that he had a tendency to exaggerate a woman’s appeal when he knew she was off limits, and that in this case, what he remembered of Andie would be even more overstated since he hadn’t seen her in over a year. Thankfully, he had enough self-awareness to know exactly what needed to happen. He needed to walk into her apartment and see that she was just like any other woman—just a pretty girl, not nearly as appealing as he built her up to be in his mind, and that would be that.

  He walked up the steps to her apartment with a duffel bag in each hand and used his elbow to knock on the door. It was barely a minute before he heard shuffling, followed by the muted click of the dead bolt.

  The door swung open, and his mind went compl
etely blank, save for one word.

  Shit.

  “Hi,” she said with a small, tentative smile. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but a few wispy strands had fallen free and were framing her face.

  This was supposed to be the moment he realized he had blown this girl way out of proportion, that his memory had embellished her appeal.

  But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

  “Andie. Good to see you again,” he finally said, and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw the slight flush color her cheeks.

  She nodded, the same tight smile in place as she turned and walked into the apartment. His eyes dropped of their own volition, admiring the way her ass looked in the cotton yoga pants she was wearing.

  “I’ll be ready in two minutes,” she said, turning her head over her shoulder, and Chase ripped his eyes away from her body and back up to her face just in time. She walked behind the tiny island in the kitchen and lifted a mug. Just as it touched her lips, she froze, looking at him over the top of it.

  She brought it down slowly. “Um, do you want some coffee?”

  “Fuck yes,” he exhaled, and he saw the tiny crease form between her brow as the corners of her mouth turned down. She turned to open the cabinet.

  “I’m not really a morning person,” he offered as he put his bags down by the door and walked toward the kitchen. She gave him no reaction, her eyes trained on the mug as she poured the coffee.

  “Cream? Sugar?” she asked, still not looking at him.

  “Black is fine.”

  She handed him the mug and picked up her own in one movement, walking out of the kitchen and leaving him standing there alone.

  He turned and leaned back against the island as he sipped his coffee, his eyes combing her apartment. Immaculate. That was the one word that kept coming to mind. Nothing out of place, everything spotless. The wood floor of her living room was shining, like a goddamn commercial. Her walls were decorated with photographs and little fancy shelves that held a bunch of candles and other useless girly crap. An upright piano made of gleaming mahogany stood against the far wall. And her couches were white. He laughed to himself, thinking of how long a white couch would survive in his apartment. Shit, he could even see himself in the countertop, he noticed, as he turned to put the mug down.

  A bustling sound caught his attention, and he looked up, watching her come out from what he assumed was her bedroom with her bags. Her expression was passive, her eyes downcast.

  “You know what this place needs?” he said, lifting his mug and taking another sip.

  She placed one of her bags down on the coffee table and began rummaging through it. “No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” she deadpanned, still not looking at him.

  “It needs some life.”

  She froze, forgetting for the moment about whatever it was she was looking for, and lifted her eyes, looking up at him from under her lashes. And God help him, when he saw the fire behind them, the same one he remembered from the cellar, he couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face.

  “What, do you moonlight as an interior decorator?” she asked, her tone curt as she looked back down and continued searching through her bag.

  “Hardly,” he said through his smile. “I’m just saying. This place is just so…pristine. It doesn’t even look lived in. How do you accomplish that? You’re here every day, but there’s no trace of you at all.”

  She straightened the contents of the bag before roughly zipping it closed. “Some things don’t change, I see,” she mumbled under her breath as she picked up the bag and swung it over her shoulder.

  “Pardon?” he asked, even though he had heard her clearly.

  She looked up and forced a tiny smile. “Nothing. Are you ready?”

  He nodded, taking down the rest of his coffee. He went to place the empty mug on the counter, and before it even made contact, it was out of his hand. He watched her quickly wash both of their mugs and put them back in the cabinet before drying her hands on a dishtowel. She walked back into the living room and grabbed her bags, gesturing for him to go before her.

  Chase stepped outside and waited while she locked up, admiring the tone of her arms as she juggled her bags and her keys.

  “Just so you know,” she said casually as he followed her to the parking lot, “there’s no smoking in my car.”

  He laughed then, shaking his head as he reached in his back pocket and pulled out a pack of nicotine gum, holding it out for her approval. “May I chew gum? Or is that also against the rules?”

  She glanced at the gum and then up at him, giving him no reaction as she turned to open the trunk of her car. He waited for her to put her bags in before he followed suit, and by the time he closed the trunk, she was already in the driver’s seat, waiting.

  He knew he shouldn’t be provoking her, but there was something about her feistiness that he enjoyed. It was raw and authentic and refreshing. Most of the girls he knew were so affected, so specious. He liked seeing a woman who pulled no punches, who was confident enough to express what she was feeling, and who made no apologies for it.

  And if he were being honest, he liked that he was able to ignite that spark in her.

  But he shouldn’t be doing it. He knew that. For one, he was getting under her skin, and as much as it amused him to play around, he didn’t want to actually upset her. But more importantly, he shouldn’t be looking to get a rise out of interacting with her.

  It was harmless, his playful taunting. He had no intention of making a move on Andie; but still, in the back of his mind, he knew he shouldn’t be needling her.

  Yet as he slid into the passenger seat next to her, he also knew it was going to be difficult to stop.

  She started the car and pulled out of the lot, and he glanced over at her. “So,” he said. “Have you ever made this drive before?”

  She shook her head slightly, and then asked softly, “You?”

  “No,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t know why anyone would drive this when it’s so much easier to fly.”

  “Well you should have, then,” she said casually. He turned to look at her; her eyes were on the road, her expression indifferent, and he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips.

  He looked down, a smile still playing at his mouth over her quip. “How come Colin didn’t drive with you?” he asked. He already knew the answer to this question, of course, but he wanted to see how she felt about it.

  “He had a lot to do down there this week. Wedding party obligations,” she said with a shrug. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of resentment in her tone.

  “So then why didn’t you just drive down earlier?”

  Andie glanced in her rearview before switching lanes. “Because,” she said absently, “I had work.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I manage a restaurant.”

  “Really?” Chase asked with genuine interest. “Do you own it?”

  “No, my father does.”

  “Ah,” he said with a nod. “Well, you gotta love nepotism.”

  Her hand came down on the steering wheel, the sound of it catching him off guard.

  “See, why do you have to do that?” she asked, the irritation clear in her voice as she turned to look at him. “Why do you have to be like that?”

  He shook his head slightly. “I’m kidding, Andie. It wouldn’t kill you to laugh. It wouldn’t even hurt. I promise,” he said, crossing his heart and then holding his hand up.

  She turned her eyes back to the road, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she tapped a button on the steering wheel, turning on the radio. The space between them was filled with the low murmur of some random music station and the sound of her thumb drumming the side of the steering wheel.

  Chase waited until he saw the tension leave her shoulders before he spoke again. “Okay, so I have to ask, what’s the story behind Andie?”

  “What’s the story behind Andie?” she echoed, the conf
usion evident in her voice.

  “Yeah. I mean, it’s a strange name for a girl, don’t you think?” When she didn’t respond, he added, “So what’s the deal? Were your parents hoping for a boy or something?”

  “It’s not my name.”

  Chase turned toward her. “Andie’s not your name?”

  “It’s a nickname,” she said listlessly, as if she had just reached her limit in dealing with an inquisitive child.

  “So you prefer people to call you Andie? What’s your real name?”

  “None of your business,” she blurted out before he had even finished his question.

  He lifted his brow as a stunned laugh fell from his lips. She was clearly discomfited by her own little outburst; Chase watched as her expression turned sheepish for just a second before she straightened it. She kept her eyes on the road, taking a small breath before awkwardly clearing her throat. Her fingers twitched on the steering wheel before she pressed another button, increasing the volume of the radio.

  Chase sat back against his seat, turning his head slightly to stare out the passenger window. He didn’t like the feeling he had right now; he felt almost…remorseful.

  It was foreign to him, feeling contrite. Normally, if someone couldn’t handle his sense of humor, his way of thinking, his opinions, then that someone was automatically off his radar. That was just how he was. But for some reason, with Andie, it didn’t work that way. It made absolutely no sense. He didn’t even know her, so it should have been that much easier for him to write her off. But the fact that she was upset, that she seemed uncomfortable right now sitting next to him, actually bothered him.

  It’s because she’s your friend’s girlfriend, he thought. Of course you give a shit if you’ve upset her. Colin wanted you to make this drive easier for her, not torment her the entire time.

  A few minutes later, Chase became aware of the volume being lowered on the radio, and he looked over to see her thumb on the button, turning the music down. She glanced at him but said nothing, bringing her eyes back to the road.