Emancipating Andie (13 page)

He closed his eyes again. “I still have some pictures I took when I was down there. At the time I was just using some cheap disposable camera, but there’s this picture of one of the women from the town, and she’s sitting in front of a small pond with her son on her lap. This woman’s smile,” he shook his head slightly, “it’s one of the most genuine smiles I’ve ever seen. It’s not tinged with vanity, or manipulation, or desire. It’s just…happiness. Pure happiness.” He sighed softly. “It’s probably the most beautiful picture I’ve ever taken.”

Andie sat staring at him, the emotions washing over her quicker than she could name them. She felt the muscles in her arm twitch with the desire to reach over and touch him, run her hand through his hair, along the angular line of his jaw, down the length of his arm; but instead, she laid down next to him, their bodies mere inches apart as she stared up at the sky.

There were a million things she wanted to say, things she could have or should have said, but she suddenly found herself telling him something she had never told anyone, a random memory from her childhood she had never quite been able to forget.

“Once, when I was ten, I was playing in the park near my house,” Andie said, her voice soft. “I was sitting on the swings and I saw this couple, this man and woman sitting on the bench nearby. I was fascinated with the way they were wrapped around each other, almost like I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. I’d never seen anything like it. He kept kissing her. Kissing her everywhere. Her lips, her cheeks, the back of her hand, and she couldn’t stop smiling. I watched them the whole time they sat there. And even when they got up to leave, even when they were walking away, they were still wrapped around each other, like they were one person, or like it would cause them physical pain to be separated.”

She was aware of his eyes on her, that he had turned his head to look at her.

“And that night, I went home, and I sat at the dinner table, and I watched my mom and my dad, how they circulated around each other in the kitchen, like magnets turned over, you know? Unable to cross that invisible boundary that prevents them from clicking together. I mean, they were civil. They were kind. They talked about their days. They talked to me. But they didn’t touch, and they didn’t kiss, and they didn’t hug, and I realized then that they never really did. And I was only ten, but I remember wondering that night if the couple in the park was strange, or if my parents were.”

It was a moment before he spoke, the low timbre of his voice penetrating the silence. “It’s not a matter of one couple being strange and one being normal. Or even one being happy and one being unhappy. Maybe they both had exactly what they needed. Maybe they were both happy with what they had.”

Andie closed her eyes and nodded softly. In all the years that memory had plagued her, she had never thought of it that way.

“Did you ever ask yourself the real question, though?” he asked.

She opened her eyes and rolled her head to the side to face him, and as soon as she did, she wished that she hadn’t. Their faces were a few inches apart, his green eyes intense as they connected with hers.

“What’s the real question?” she managed, her voice soft.

“What do
you
want, Andie? Which of those scenarios would make you happy?”

She needed to look away, but she couldn’t. And if he wanted to, it didn’t show. He kept his eyes on hers, the air heavy with unspoken words as he waited for her answer.

The sharp sound of her phone ringing pierced the silence, and Andie jolted upright, fumbling in her purse for it as her heart crashed against her ribs.

“Hello?” she said as she brought the phone to her ear, her voice somewhat shaky.

“Hey, babe.”

“Colin,” she said, his name sounding more like a statement than a greeting. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chase sit up slowly, running his hand through his hair as he looked off in the opposite direction.

“Where are you? Are you almost here?” he asked.

“Um, well, not quite. It’s gonna be a few more hours,” she said as she sat up straight and smoothed out her shirt.

“Really? What happened?”

“We hit traffic.”

She saw Chase turn to look at her then, and she caught his eyes for just a moment before she looked away. But in that instant, she saw in them exactly what she herself was thinking: they weren’t doing anything wrong. What they were doing was completely innocent, wasn’t it?

So then what reason did she have to lie?

By the time they got to the hotel in Tampa, it was after eight, and as they walked into the lobby of the Westin Tampa Harbour Island, the place where the wedding would be held the following evening, Andie lingered near the front desk where Chase approached the concierge. She knew Colin was in room 516. There was no reason for her to go to the front desk, and no good reason for her to wait.

Yet she found herself doing it anyway.

Chase glanced over at her, forcing a tiny smile. “You can go up. I still need to get a room, and then I’m probably gonna hit the bar and have a drink.”

“Oh…okay,” Andie said, taking a tiny step away from him.

“Go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the elevators. “I’m sure Colin can’t wait to see you.”

Andie nodded. “So…I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Chase nodded with a smile. “Good night, Andie,” he said before turning his attention to the concierge as she started asking him for information. Andie began walking over to the elevators, wondering if he was watching her leave and fighting the urge to turn around and find out. She hit the button and waited anxiously for the elevator, and as soon as she was inside and the doors closed, she exhaled heavily, her shoulders dropping as she leaned against the mirrored wall. She turned then, catching sight of her reflection.

“What’s happening to you?” she asked her likeness softly, just as the doors dinged open. She stood up and adjusted the bag on her shoulder, taking a deep breath before she stepped out into the hallway.

Andie approached the door of room 516 and knocked gently. A few seconds later, the door swung open and Colin smiled widely.

“Babe,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. She turned her face into his neck, breathing in the scent that was him, wanting it to bring her back to a place where she was sure about everything in her life.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, bringing his mouth to hers for a brief kiss before taking her bags. He placed them in front of the closet before lying across the bed and propping his head up on his hand, his eyes on the television screen.

Andie went to work unpacking her things, glancing at him every few seconds as he watched the game on television. He was so handsome. After all this time, there were still days she would catch herself marveling at him. She had missed him. She really had. And that acknowledgement put her frazzled mind somewhat at ease.

After she unpacked, she laid next to him on the bed. “Did you eat?” she asked, snuggling into him.

He absently draped his arm over her. “I had a big lunch. The room service menu is on the table if you want to order something,” he said, nodding in the direction of the table, his eyes still on the screen.

Andie turned to follow his gaze. It was only the start of the second quarter; this game would be on for a while.

“Do you want to rent a movie or something?” she asked, running her hand over his side.

“Hmm?” he asked, glancing down at her. “Oh, um, maybe after this game, okay? I have money on it,” he said, kissing her forehead before bringing his eyes back to the television.

“Okay,” Andie said softly.

“How was the drive? Besides the traffic.”

Andie bit her lip before she said, “It wasn’t bad.”

Colin ran his hand over her hair, his eyes still on the game. “You sound tired. Why don’t you eat and then rest a little bit?”

She nodded, lying next to him for another moment before she finally sat up and pushed herself off the bed. She sat on the windowsill as she looked through the room service menu, finally deciding to order a Greek salad and a glass of wine. As she called and placed her order, she found herself wondering what Chase was doing—if he was still at the bar, whether or not he had eaten yet. She should have just gotten something to eat with him downstairs, she thought. Colin wouldn’t have missed her for another hour or so, not with the game on. And then she was immediately chagrined by her line of thinking, sitting four feet away from her boyfriend as she tried to figure out how she could have spent time with someone else.

About ten minutes later her dinner arrived, and she sat up against the headboard, her salad balanced delicately on her thighs as she stared without seeing at the game, sipping her wine, her mind a million miles away from first downs and extra points.

Somewhere around the start of the fourth quarter, Andie showered, changed into her pajamas, and brushed her teeth before settling under the covers next to Colin. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep before she felt him snuggle up behind her, pressing the length of his body against the back of hers. His hand came to her hip, squeezing it gently, and as he nuzzled her hair, his breath fanned hot across the back of her neck.

She knew what would happen next. She could script it. He would start by kissing her neck, and when she began to respond, his hand would move from her hip to her lower stomach, sliding up the length of her abdomen until he reached her breasts. He would spend some time there, first with his hands, and then with his mouth, before his hand made its way back down her body and settled between her legs. And after she climaxed, he would make love to her, beginning below her but ending on top of her. And then she’d rest her head on his chest, and he’d wrap his arm around her shoulder, and they’d fall asleep.

Yes, with Colin, she always knew exactly what to expect.

And for the first time in their relationship, she suddenly found herself wishing she didn’t.

.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

“A
nother?” the bartender asked, and Chase turned his attention to the man standing behind the bar.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Seven and Seven, right?” the man asked, reaching for Chase’s empty glass.

“Yeah,” he said, watching the bartender begin to mix the third one Chase had consumed in the past hour. He knew he should probably slow down, but he needed something to keep him occupied. Certainly nothing else so far that night had succeeded in doing so. Not the ceremony. Not the onslaught of people he had talked with and been introduced to since the reception began. Not the music blasting from the DJ’s booth or the dance floor full of people. Nothing could keep his attention for long. He’d be in the middle of a conversation with someone, laughing and having a good time, and without his permission, his eyes would begin to wander, combing through the crowd until he found her. There had to be over three hundred people in the room, and yet it would only take him seconds to do it. Every time. Like she was some sort of goddamned beacon.

They hadn’t spoken to each other at all that day, although they had made eye contact several times during the ceremony and a few times since the reception began. Whenever it happened, one of them would smile or hold up a hand in greeting, and the other would follow suit, but Chase could see there was a slight uneasiness in her actions. What was worse, though, was that he could feel the same awkwardness in his own, and it drove him crazy. He didn’t want things to be uncomfortable between them again, yet he felt himself contributing to it.

The bartender placed his drink down in front of him, and Chase tossed a tip on the bar as he picked it up and took a slow sip, turning to face the room full of people.

And there she was, talking with one of the bridesmaids by a table near the balcony on the other side of the room. He hadn’t even been trying that time. At least not consciously.

Ever since that moment on Tybee Island, when he had asked her what would make her happy, the dynamic between them had changed. That was the moment things stopped being innocent, the moment his conscience took a backseat and it was just the two of them, just Andie and Chase and the palpable, rousing tension between them, charged with inaccessible possibilities. At least, that’s how it had been for him. He had no idea what she had been thinking.