Emancipating Andie (18 page)

Chase stood a few feet away, smirking down at her as he took the phone away from his ear and ended the call. “Look at you, you lush. You’re lucky I happened to be on my way past here. It’s a little cold tonight to sleep on your doormat.”

Andie sat frozen, her cell phone still to her ear, staring up at him.

He smiled. “You can hang up now.”

Andie blinked quickly, snapping herself out of it as she yanked the phone away from her ear, pressing four buttons before she hit the right one to end the call. “What are you doing here?” she finally managed, trying to sound composed.

Chase gestured toward her door. “Helping you.”

“No, I mean, what are you doing
here
?” she asked. “By my apartment?”

“My friend Benny runs a poker game once a month. He lives a few miles from here. I was just on my way home. Lucky for you.” The touch of condescension in his tone reminded Andie of their first encounter in Justin’s basement, and it made her blood race in her veins all over again, only this time for a different reason.

He approached her, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out some metal object that looked like a cross between a long needle and a pair of pliers. He stopped in front of her, and she stared up at him, not knowing what to say next. He quirked his brow, the smile returning.

“Oh! Sorry,” Andie said, scooting awkwardly to the side and giving him access to the door. He laughed, squatting down next to her, running the tip of his finger over the front of the lock and leaning in to examine it.

Andie stared at his profile: the angle of his jaw, the sexy tousle of his hair. Her inhibitions were growing as fuzzy as her vision.

Chase glanced over at her. “So here we are again. You, me, and a locked door,” he said with a smile that caused Andie’s stomach to turn somersaults.

“Do you realize how shady it is that you drive around with a device used to break into people’s houses?” she blurted out, and he laughed before he turned his attention back to the lock.

“The lock on my apartment is a bit…temperamental,” he said, inserting the long end of the tool into the keyhole. “After dismantling my door a bunch of times, I finally realized it’s just easier to own one of these.” He nodded toward the tool in his hand as he brought his other hand to the knob, holding it steady as he rolled his wrist slightly, maneuvering the needle-like end in the tiny hole.

She watched as he pulled his brow together, concentrating as if he were performing surgery, and for a second she could see him as the doctor his father wanted him to be.

He scooted a little closer to the door, a little closer to her, rolling his wrist a little faster now. She could smell him, she realized, closing her eyes and inhaling a slow, deep breath.

A sharp click sounded right above her head, causing her to jump, and Chase twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. He turned to her with a smile. “Piece of cake,” he said before rising to his feet and reaching his hand out to her.

She gathered her purse and slid her arm through it before she held both hands out to him, and he clasped them, pulling her up off the floor. She stumbled slightly as she got to her feet, and he reached forward just as she grabbed onto his forearms, steadying herself. Their faces were only a few inches apart, and they both froze.

After a stunned second, Chase spoke softly. “You okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

They remained still, her eyes locked on his. She had almost forgotten what those eyes were capable of. Her heart thudded frantically, and she was not too drunk to realize that the moment had officially crossed into awkward territory. She had her balance now. There was no reason for her to continue clinging to him the way she was.

She watched as his eyes changed, a guilty look washing over them before he dropped his stare. “Andie,” he said, releasing his hold on her, “I have to tell you something.”

Her heart was slamming against her chest now; she felt like her whole body was thrumming with the force of it. “What is it?” she whispered.

He took a small breath, his eyes still downcast. “I read it.”

Andie blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I read it,” he repeated, a little louder this time. “Your book.”

She shook her head slightly. “My book?” Her mind was too hazy to follow him. He lifted his eyes then, reading the confusion on her face.

“The one you’re writing,” he clarified.

It was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. Her eyes widened slightly as she straightened up, pushing away from him. “You
what
?”

She felt the blush burning on her cheeks, embarrassment and anger fighting for control in her body. “How is that even possible?
When
?” she asked, taking another step away from him.

Chase looked down again. “In South Carolina. The night we watched
Dumb and Dumber
.”

“
What
!” she shrieked, ripping her purse from her arm and slamming it down on the table in the entryway, sending her forgotten keys scattering across the floor with a metallic clattering sound. “How dare you! You went through my computer?”

“No, no,” he said, holding his palms up in surrender, his eyes full of remorse and a touch of panic. “When the movie was over, I turned off the player, and you had left the document open…and I just…I read the page that was open and then…I just kept going.”

An awkward silence prevailed as he trailed off uneasily, and embarrassment started to win out over the fury surging through her. She hadn’t ever thought anyone would read what she wrote; she had composed it with that mentality. Her pipe dream was to be published, but the truth was, she felt like what she had written was extremely private. He was staring at her, obviously waiting for her to say something, but she couldn’t speak. Instead she stood staring at him, at the only person who had really seen inside her mind, terrified of what he was thinking.

“Why aren’t you taking yourself seriously?” he asked, and Andie froze, completely taken off guard. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again without saying anything, and he shook his head slightly. “Why are you wasting away in that restaurant when it’s so obvious this is what you were meant to do?”

She continued to stare at him, completely at a loss for words, and he closed his eyes, frustrated by her silence. “You don’t even get it, Andie. You don’t see the world the way other people do. And when you let your guard down, the way you think, the way you say things…you make people look at things differently. You make people
feel
things. And I just…” He trailed off, running his hands down his face, and Andie took a step forward, holding onto the doorframe with her hand.

“Finish it, Andie,” he finally said, looking up and meeting her eyes. “Just…be proud of what you’re doing and finish it.”

Andie swallowed, her eyes stinging slightly. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that her emotions had been on overdrive for two weeks, but his encouragement, his approval, made her feel like she would burst into tears. It was the first time she felt like what she was doing was real.

“Say something,” he said.

She blinked, looking away from him. She didn’t know what to say. How could she express what she was feeling without sounding overly emotional or saying something she’d regret? Uncertainty and vodka and longing and guilt and gratitude and desire swam through her system, a heady mixture that made her feel completely incompetent.

Chase exhaled heavily and closed his eyes. “You know what bothered me about your book?”

Her stomach dropped as she realized the rug was about to be pulled out from underneath her. “What?” she said, her voice so soft she wasn’t even sure he’d heard her.

“Your main character. She’s so
ridiculously
self-aware. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and exactly what she needs.” He took a step toward her. “She doesn’t wait for anyone’s approval. She sees so clearly what the best things for her are, and then she makes those things happen.”

“What’s your point?” Andie whispered.

“She’s you!” Chase shouted, startling her. “Jesus Christ, Andie, she’s you!
You
made her.
You
write what she thinks, what she feels, what she wants, what she believes. Don’t pretend that’s not you!”

All the breath left Andie in a rush, and she brought her other hand up to the doorjamb, steadying herself. She had never felt so utterly exposed and vulnerable in her entire life.

“Chase,” she stammered.

He took a step forward, composing himself, his voice softer but his eyes significantly more intense. “Why do you hide? Why can’t you just be brave and do what you want instead of what you think you’re supposed to do?”

Andie looked at him, and suddenly they weren’t talking about her book anymore, and they both knew it. She shook her head quickly, breaking eye contact, because she was terrified of what would happen if she didn’t.

“Chase, I can’t live the way you do.”

Suddenly his fingers were under her chin, lifting her face as he leaned in toward her, and for a breathless second, Andie thought he might kiss her.

“Have you ever even tried?” he asked softly, his warm breath washing over her lips, and then suddenly he was gone. Andie stumbled forward slightly at the loss of contact, her skin now feeling cold where his fingers had touched her only moments before. Her eyes focused just in time to see him thrust his hands into his pockets and disappear down the stairs.

That night Andie sat upright on her couch, fighting sleep for as long as she could, because she knew exactly what would happen the second she fell into unconsciousness. But the day had been too long, and as the three shots of vodka gradually had their way with her, she lost the battle.

It started a little differently tonight.

Andie walked into the wine cellar, and as she approached the nearest wall of wine, she heard the door slam shut behind her. She turned around to see Chase staring at her, and she smiled at him. “I’m sorry,” she said, and then all at once he was up against her, pressing her into the door behind her.

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered. But suddenly, it wasn’t Chase. It was
him
. And they weren’t in the wine cellar; they were in the upstairs bathroom of the homecoming party. And he was kissing her neck. And even then, amid the unease that was beginning to swirl in her gut, Andie remembered thinking she was lucky. How she couldn’t believe this was happening to her.

Derek O’Donnell was a senior. No, Derek O’Donnell was
the
senior. He looked like a model, like he didn’t belong walking through the halls of a high school. A three-sport athlete with a wit and charm that won over every single adult in the building.

And every single girl in the school.

Andie watched him from afar, like every other ordinary girl. She had often heard him referred to as a “ladies’ man” by the adults in the building, but Andie knew that was an understatement. Girls threw themselves at him, girls that were older and more beautiful and more experienced than Andie. He was the untouchable dream. And Andie was infatuated.

Her mother once found a notebook of hers on which she’d drawn a huge heart with their names in the center. The rest of the cover had been decorated with the words
I love Derek
in all different sizes, styles, and colors.

“That boy’s too old for you,” her mother had said, tapping the book firmly with her index finger.

“No he’s not,” Andie had protested softly. “He’s in high school, just like me.”

Andie’s mother shook her head firmly, spinning the book around to face Andie. “You don’t love boys like this.
Na agapas me to kefali sou, kai tha eisai asfalis
,” she said, tapping her temple. “Love with your head, and you’ll be safe.” She straightened up, her eyes on Andie. “You love with anything else,” she had said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “you find yourself in big trouble.”

Andie had rolled her eyes at the warning. It didn’t even matter; it wasn’t like she’d ever have a chance with him anyway.

And then came that Thursday afternoon when he approached her after volleyball practice.

She stood there like a deer in headlights, absolutely stunned. Derek O’Donnell, talking to a freshman? And when he asked her to come to the homecoming party that weekend, she felt a thrill course through her body like nothing she’d ever felt before.

She begged Tracey to go with her, finally managing to convince her after a long struggle, even though Tracey told her that Derek was a “man-whore who probably just wanted to get into her pants.”

Andie knew it was just jealousy speaking. After all, he had plenty of opportunities to “get into the pants” of other girls. He didn’t need her for that. He was genuinely interested in her. She could just feel it.

She and Tracey lied about being at each other’s houses that night, and when they arrived at the party, Derek grinned. Every time he handed her a drink, he winked. And every time he put his hand on her back, her neck, her upper thigh, she felt bolts of electricity sizzle through her body. Being next to him, having him touch her, was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.