Emancipating Andie

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 completely 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?”

“F*ck 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 confusion 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.

He had no idea if she meant that to be an invitation or not, but he decided to take it as one. Chase took a small breath before trying again.

“So,” he said, turning to face her, “what’s the plan?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are we going to see?”

She looked at him, her brow pulled together.

“On this drive,” he clarified.

“Um…highway? Some farms? Lots of other cars?”

He stared at her with an amused expression until she said, “I don’t think I understand the question.”

“Aren’t we making any stops to sightsee?”

“No.”

“None?” he asked with a combination of surprise and disappointment. “That seems like a waste. There’s some cool shit on this drive.”

She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, and Chase turned further in his seat to face her. “What about Assateague Island? Or we could stop in Atlantic City for a few hours. Or actually, you know where I’ve always wanted to go? Tybee Island. There’s supposedly this kickass lighthouse there…some great photo ops.” He waited for a response.

She gave him none.

“Or,” he said slowly, “we could make a stop at Crystal River. I hear they have the largest population of manatees in the country.”

She turned to face him then, looking at him as though he had lost his mind, and he pressed his lips together to fight his smile. “I mean, if that’s more your thing.”

“We’re not stopping to sightsee,” she said matter-of-factly as she turned back to the road.

“Why not? That’s what a road trip is all about.”

“Because we’re not on a road trip. The wedding is on Friday. If we follow my original plan, we’ll stop somewhere in South Carolina tonight and get down to Tampa sometime tomorrow afternoon. It’s timed perfectly. I didn’t account for any stops at tourist attractions.”

Chase turned in his seat, his expression thoughtful. “Or,” he said after a minute, and Andie glanced over at him, “we could not stop to sleep and use those extra hours to see some cool shit instead.”

“Drive on no sleep? Yeah, that sounds like a brilliant plan.”

“No, of course we’d have to sleep,” he said. “We’d just switch. You could sleep, and I could drive—”

“No,” she said smoothly before he even finished his explanation.

“No?” Chase echoed. “Why not? You don’t trust me with your car? Not for nothing, but this is a Prius, not a Porsche.”

“That’s not the point,” Andie said. “I just…I don’t let anyone drive my car.”

“You’ve got some serious control issues,” Chase said, the words out of his mouth before he could think better of them.

“Excuse me?” Andie said. “You don’t even know me. So don’t—”

“You’re right, I don’t know you,” he said, cutting her off, his own voice rising in spite of himself. “All I know about you is what you’re showing me. And right now, with the way you’re acting? With your rigid driving plan, and your ‘nobody drives but me’ nonsense? What you’re showing me is that you have control issues. Hardcore, grade A, first-rate control issues.”

Andie whipped her head toward him, her eyes blazing, and he met her stare. She turned away first, swatting off the radio and bringing both hands to the steering wheel, and he leaned back in his seat, a smug smile curving his lips over the fact that she had turned away first. Sure, he realized that she needed to keep her eyes on the road, but f*ck it, he wanted to celebrate it as a victory.

They drove the next half hour in complete silence. Andie didn’t turn the radio back on, and every now and then, Chase would glance at her hands on the steering wheel; they were immobile, her knuckles white as she gripped the wheel at ten and two.

This would be impossible, he realized, trying to keep this drive amiable. She got fired up too easily, and if he were being honest, he enjoyed the reaction too much. It was a bad combination. And he wasn’t about to put on some act for the next two days just because this girl was overly uptight. They’d both be better off if he just kept his mouth shut; she obviously wasn’t dying for company, and he didn’t mind spending the next two days in thoughtful silence.

He rested his head back on the seat and closed his eyes, inhaling slowly.

At that moment, without his sense of sight, her scent consumed him, and he exhaled with a soft, contented hum in the back of his throat. His eyes flipped open, startled by his visceral reaction to the way she smelled; it wasn’t like any perfume he knew. Not pungent, not fake.

Natural. Understated.

Sweet, but not fruity. Feminine, but not floral. He had no idea how to describe it. What he did know was that it gave him the strangest feeling in his stomach, one that was as pleasant as it was completely wrong.

He looked over at her, hoping she hadn’t heard him, that she wasn’t aware of his reaction to her. By that time, her posture had relaxed some, her fingers loosely curled around the steering wheel. He dropped his gaze to her leg, her left knee bouncing slightly, as if she were keeping the beat to some private tune in her mind.

Of their own accord, his eyes began to travel up her body, over the fitted white tank that hugged the flat plane of her stomach, the swell of her breasts. He lifted his eyes to her profile, her delicate, sloping nose, her pouty mouth. At that moment her lips parted, the tip of her tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip, and he swallowed hard just as she slammed on the brake, catapulting them into the restraint of their seat belts and yanking him from his culpable reverie.

“Jesus Christ!” she shouted. “You jackass!”

By now Chase’s eyes were safely back on the road, staring at the taillights of the car that had just cut Andie off.

She exhaled heavily, leaning back into her seat. “Sorry,” she said softly.

“It’s okay,” he said, somewhat unsettled, but not at all from the near collision.

After a minute, Andie laughed humorlessly. “Unbelievable,” she said, gesturing at the windshield. “Why does someone become a daredevil just long enough to cut you off, but then proceed to drive like someone’s ninety-year-old grandmother as soon as they’re in front of you?”

“Are you telling me you didn’t factor shitty drivers into your travel plans?”

She pursed her lips at that, keeping her eyes on the road, and he smiled.

“When someone drives like that in front of me, you know what I usually think about that makes me feel better?”

Andie glanced over at him. “Do I want to know the answer to this question?” she asked, and he laughed.

“Think about it this way. What if this person never came out in front of you, never forced you to slow down, and you took an upcoming curve too fast and went flying off the road? Or what if your original travel speed put you in an intersection at the exact moment a truck ran a red light? Or when a little kid forgot to look both ways before crossing the road on his bike?”

Andie looked over at him, her expression taken aback.

“Maybe something bad would have happened if this guy didn’t slow you down when he did. Maybe this is your guardian angel, looking out for you.”

She stared at him for another second before she blinked quickly, bringing her eyes back to the road.

Chase kept his eyes on her for a moment before he sat back in his seat, turning his head to look out the passenger window. He really did like to believe what he had just told her; in fact, at times it was the only thing that kept him from ramming into the jack-off in front of him. But he had no idea why he had just shared that with her.

Another silence filled the space between them, and he turned to look at her, the oddest feeling coming over him as something like triumph swirled in his stomach.

Because this time, as he studied her profile, there was a tiny crescent-shaped crease at the corner of her mouth.

The faintest hint of a smile.