Emancipating Andie

chapter EIGHT



“Another?” 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.

But then she lied.

She told Colin they’d be late because they were stuck in traffic, and he knew then that she was feeling what he was, at least on some level.

It was all so f*cking wrong.

Chase took another long swallow of his drink, trying to focus on the swaying bodies littering the dance floor. All night long he’d been holding on to the notion that at some point in every guy’s life, he’s been guilty of looking at a friend’s girl and thinking things that were less than appropriate. He could be a good guy, he could be a good friend, but when it came down to it, guys were guys, and shit happens. The subconscious is an impossible thing to control. A guy wasn’t considered an a*shole unless he acted on those involuntary thoughts.

Chase brought his drink to his lips again, shaking his head, because as much as he wanted to rationalize what was happening, the truth was, his thoughts weren’t involuntary. They weren’t even superficial, run-of-the-mill sexual musings.

They were so much worse than that.

It wasn’t like he found himself wondering what she looked like naked, or whether or not she gave good head. No, he would think about what it would feel like to run his palms over every inch of her, and whether or not the rest of her was as soft as her hands. He would imagine pressing his face into the side of her neck, or burying his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent that made him feel like he was turning inside out. He would think about making her laugh, the musical cadence of it, or the way she would feel pressed up against him as they lay in bed together watching some juvenile movie. He’d imagine skinny-dipping with her in some remote, clandestine pond, or cooking breakfast with her, side by side, Andie wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts, her hair up in that sloppy bun that managed to make her look innocent and sexy at the same time.

Chase squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He would have felt better about himself if he’d had fantasies of f*cking her in the coat closet and never calling her again.

“Ladies and gentleman,” the DJ said over the microphone, and Chase opened his eyes and turned his head in his direction. “At this time, we’d like to ask Justin and Stella and their bridal party to step out onto the terrace for a few photos.”

Chase turned his attention back to the other side of the room where Colin was now approaching Andie. He kissed her on the cheek as he passed, making his way toward the terrace doors, and the bridesmaid that Andie had been talking to handed off her drink as she followed Colin outside. Andie turned then, taking a delicate sip of her wine as her eyes scanned the dance floor, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was briefly overcome with the hope that she was looking for him.

She took a few steps over to her table, placing her friend’s drink on it before she sat down, trailing the tip of her finger along the rim of her own wine glass as she watched the people moving on the dance floor. She crossed her legs then, and the slit in her dress parted to reveal the length of one leg, from toe to mid-thigh.

Chase closed his eyes before turning toward the bartender. “Can I get a shot of Johnnie Walker?”

“You got it, pal,” he said with a wary look, bending to reach below the bar, and Chase turned his eyes back to the other side of the room as he finished his drink. That f*cking dress. He could barely stand it before he realized it had a slit as long as her leg up the side. He didn’t know anything about dresses, or fashion at all for that matter, but this dress was deep green and looked like it was made of some type of silk. Every goddamn curve of her body looked softer and fuller in this thing. And when she had turned to leave the ceremony earlier that night, he nearly choked on his gum when he saw that her entire back was exposed.

She looked up then, making eye contact with him, and he froze. A small smile curved her lips as she held up her hand to say hello, and he smiled back at her just as the bartender said, “Here you go.”

Chase turned, placing his empty glass on the bar and reaching for the shot, stopping before he took it. He didn’t know if it was the three consecutive Seven and Sevens, or the smile she just gave him, but at that moment, he made a decision.

“Actually, can I get a Lemon Drop too?”

The bartender quirked his brow at him. “You gonna be okay, buddy?”

Chase smiled. “I won’t puke on your bar, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The bartender shook his head with a tiny laugh, reaching below for the bottle. He poured the shot, giving Chase the sugar-coated lemon chaser.

“Hang in there,” he said, and Chase could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t referencing Chase holding his liquor.

He grabbed the two shots and crossed the dance floor, careful not to spill any as he maneuvered his way through the dancing bodies. Just as he emerged from the crowd, she lifted her eyes, smiling at him again.

“Hi,” she said as he approached her table, the awkwardness between them seemingly gone, and he hoped it wasn’t just his hazy alcohol-induced perception.

“Hi,” he said, pulling up a seat next to her. “Having fun?”

She nodded. “I think I’ve met more people in the past few hours than I have in the past few years. But big weddings are always fun. I’m surprised to see you milling around, though. I figured you’d be glued to your camera.”

“Nah, I’m off tonight. Here, I brought you something.”

She glanced down, catching sight of the shot glass he placed in front of her, and she shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said, looking back up at him and scrunching her nose adorably. “I’m not really a liquor kind of girl.”

Being this close to her again, Chase felt suddenly bold. “Well two days ago, you weren’t the kind of girl who let anyone else drive her car.” Andie smirked as he continued. “And yesterday, you weren’t the kind of girl to pull off the road and jump fully clothed into a lake.”

“I didn’t really have a choice about that one,” she said through laughter, and Chase grinned.

“Breaking out of your shell,” he said as he slid the shot closer to her. He raised his eyes to hers, his voice playful. “I say we make it the theme for the weekend.”

Andie glanced down at the shot, nibbling on the corner of her lip. He could tell she was thinking about it, so he added, “It’s a pretty tame shot. Girly, even.”

She laughed, taking a deep breath before she picked up the small glass, holding it up to him. “To breaking out of your shell.”

Chase smiled, holding his shot up and clinking it to hers. “Cheers.”

He tilted his head back slightly as he took his shot, keeping his eyes on her as she tossed her head back and drained the glass. She immediately whipped her head back up, her eyes wide as she placed the empty glass back on the table and brought her other hand to her mouth. Chase laughed as she squeezed her eyes shut before she finally swallowed.

“Oh my God,” she said, her voice muffled before she dropped her hand from her lips. “Was that straight vodka?”

“Well, lemon flavored, but yeah.”

“How exactly is that girly?” she asked, still horrified.

“Because now you get this,” he said, handing her the lemon wedge covered in sugar.

She grabbed it like it was a lifeline, taking it between her lips as her cheeks hollowed out with the force of her sucking, and Chase couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Lesson learned,” she said, tossing the expended lemon rind on the table. “That’s the last time I trust you.”

“Aw, come on,” he said, taking her empty shot glass and stacking it on top of his. “It wasn’t that bad. You can admit it.”

She licked her lips, removing the last remaining granules of sugar. “Fine. The sugared lemon part wasn’t that bad. I could have done without the vodka before.”

Chase watched the shiver ripple through her shoulders as she added, “Even though I kind of like the warm feeling I have right now.”

He grinned at her as the music changed around them, the opening notes to some ballad filling the room.

The words fell from Chase’s lips with surprising ease. “Will you dance with me?”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise before she dropped her gaze, clearing her throat awkwardly. After what seemed like forever, he heard her soft voice. “Um…yeah, okay.”

Chase stood immediately, wanting to do whatever he could to remove the awkwardness that was starting to reappear between them. “After you,” he said, sweeping his hand in front of them, and Andie smiled up at him tentatively as she stood and made her way to the dance floor.

Just as she reached the edge, Chase grabbed her hand and put his other on her hip, giving her a tiny push and spinning her away from him. She laughed loudly as her twirling came to a stop, her arm extended toward his and their hands still clasped. She cupped her hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter.

“See?” she said, dropping her hand from her mouth and fanning herself. “It’s already hitting me.”

“Lightweight,” he said with a smile, using his grip on her hand to pull her back to him. As soon as their bodies made contact, they both froze, and Chase felt Andie go rigid against him. He didn’t move, loosening his grip on her hand and giving her the freedom to pull away if she wanted to.

And then suddenly he felt the tension leave her body, first from her shoulders, then her arms, and then her torso, so that she literally melted into him. He swallowed hard as he placed his free hand on her lower back, and he was taken aback when she started to move first, setting the pace and swaying gently to the music.

It only took him a second to follow her lead, and when he felt her hand slide up his back and come to rest just below the nape of his neck, he inhaled a shaky breath, hoping she couldn’t feel his heart slamming against his ribs.

This was a bad idea. What the hell was he thinking?

He had no idea what song was playing. He didn’t even know if he was moving in time to the beat. The only thing he was aware of was her body against his, the softness of her breasts pressing just below his chest, her arm around his back, tightening infinitesimally as the dance continued so that she kept pulling his body closer to hers. He didn’t know if she was doing it intentionally or if it was the result of the vodka coursing its way through her system, but he allowed her to do it, trying with all his might not to focus on the way her hips were moving.

She turned her head, resting it against his chest, and he was assaulted with the scent of her hair. Instinctively, he turned toward it, completely overwhelmed with the desire to press his lips to the crown of her head.

She continued dancing, her movements fluid and simple but provocative nonetheless, and he could imagine what it would be like to hold her this way without the barrier of clothes between them. He could picture what it would feel like, how perfectly they would fit together, how effortless it would be.

Chase’s hand moved on her lower back, slipping past the fabric of the dress and up to her exposed skin, and he immediately closed his eyes. He’d had his hands on quite a few women in his life, but Jesus Christ, her skin actually felt like silk. Without his consent, his fingers curled, and he dragged the tips of them ever so lightly up the length of her back. Her skin prickled with goose bumps beneath his touch, but she made no move to pull away, and so he trailed them back down again, his fingertips ghosting the vale of her spine.

He had never wanted a woman so badly in his entire life.

The song ended, switching to something upbeat and pulsing, and Chase was completely torn between utter relief and the consuming desire for it to go on forever. She lifted her head off his chest, her arm still around his back and her hand clasped in his, and he tilted his head, looking down at her.

She met his stare, her eyes dropping to his lips for a second before she lifted them back to his, and he knew that if she had been anyone else, it would only be seconds before his mouth was on hers.

She seemed to realize this at the same time; he felt her grow tense against him as her eyes widened in alarm. “Andromeda,” she blurted out.

Chase pulled back from her slightly. “What?” he murmured, fighting the urge to sweep her hair away from her face.

“Andie,” she said, her voice softening. “It’s short for Andromeda. That’s my name.”

Chase stared at her, watching the flush color her cheeks, and she averted her eyes. “It’s Greek,” she stammered. “It means beautiful.”

She pulled away from him then, pressing one hand just below the base of her throat as she scooped up her dress with the other, hurrying off the dance floor.

He watched her rush toward the doorway that would take her out to the terrace, out to Colin, and he closed his eyes and set his jaw.

Andromeda. It means beautiful.

He inhaled deeply before opening his eyes. “Yes. It does,” he said softly, watching her retreating silhouette disappear through the doorway.