To her surprise, the second one went down much smoother, the sugared lemon chaser serving as a treat rather than a necessity.
Andie stood there for a moment, her hands on the bar and her eyes closed. Her body felt warm and loose, and she rolled her neck slowly, relishing the feeling. Her thoughts felt beautifully uncluttered, the guilt that had been on the forefront of her mind for two weeks now floating somewhere in the distance like background noise.
“What the hell,” she said, reaching for the bottle one more time. She hadn’t driven her car to the restaurant that night; it was only a ten-minute walk from her apartment, and finding parking there was usually a nightmare on weekend nights.
She took the third shot, this time not even bothering with the lemon chaser before she cleaned up after herself and placed the bottle back beneath the bar.
The walk home seemed to pass more quickly than it usually did, with the cool air on her skin and the streetlights peppering her path. Andie noticed that the edges of things took on a fuzzy quality, almost like she was walking in a dream, and she caught herself smiling like a fool at absolutely nothing more than once.
She climbed the stairs to her apartment, the dream-like fuzziness increasing somewhat as she reached her door, and she giggled to herself as she stumbled backward a bit when she looked down to get her keys out of her purse. She rummaged through it, gently at first, and then with a touch of panic.
“Shit,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides and letting her head fall back. Of course tonight would be the night she’d leave her keys at the restaurant. Just as she was about to turn back toward the stairwell, she froze, remembering that she had placed her keys on the small table in the entryway as she ran back to her bedroom to grab a hair clip before she left for work.
And she never picked them back up.
She turned back toward her door and fell forward, thumping her forehead on it three times before she finally just left it pressed up against the wood. This was so unlike her. She never did irresponsible things like this. Ever since she had returned from Florida though, it seemed to be a common occurrence; she was scatterbrained, she would daydream at inappropriate times, she couldn’t write a thing to save her life, and she was constantly finding things about Colin that irritated her.
And then, of course, there was the reappearance of the dream.
She opened her eyes and rolled to the side so that her back was pressed up against the door, and she slid down the front of it until she was sitting on the floor. Tracey had a spare key, she remembered, but no sooner than that idea popped into her head, she dismissed it. She knew her friend, and she knew what she was doing right now. There was no way Tracey would answer her call. Nor would Andie want her to.
She rummaged through her purse and pulled out her phone, sending Tracey a text message instead, explaining the situation and asking her to call as soon as she could.
She could call Colin and sleep at his place tonight, she thought. But if she were being honest with herself, she didn’t want to. All she wanted at that moment was to be alone with her thoughts, in her bed, in her house.
She stared down at her phone, her thumbs running over the keypad, and then suddenly, they were moving.
Stupid Lemon Drops got me locked out of my apartment.
She sent the text before her hazy mind could even condone or object to what she had just done, and she rested her head back against the door, a tiny laugh bubbling out of her throat. She felt amazingly indifferent.
She had almost fallen asleep against the door when the sound of her phone ringing jolted her from her daze.
She fumbled with it for a second before she brought it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Lemon Drops, huh?” he asked, and Andie thought her heart might beat out of her chest. She sat up straight, her vision blurring for a moment before it righted itself.
“I didn’t think you were a fan of those,” Chase added.
“I wasn’t. I’m not,” she said, her voice quavering slightly.
“Can I ask how they got you locked out of your apartment?”
“I forgot to take my keys with me when I left for work tonight.”
“Hmm,” Chase said. “Well, that could hardly have been the result of the shots you hadn’t taken yet, but it’s nice to have alcohol as a scapegoat for idiotic behavior, isn’t it?”
“Shut up,” she sighed, leaning back against the door and reaching up to play with the doorknob.
“Doesn’t anyone else have the key to your apartment?”
“My friend Tracey.”
“Well, did you call her?” he asked.
“She’s…occupied,” Andie said with a roll of her eyes, absently twisting the locked doorknob above her.
“Hmm, okay,” Chase said, his voice taking on a throaty caliber that caused a fluttering in Andie’s stomach. “Are there any windows you can climb in?”
“I’m on the second floor, remember? And they’re locked anyway.”
“Of course they are,” he said. “I forgot who I was talking to.”
“Oh, right,” Andie retorted, her hand falling sloppily from the doorknob, “because only anal-retentive people lock their homes when they leave them. Normal people leave their doors and windows wide open. With little neon signs on them that say ‘Drifters and Robbers Welcome.’”
“Drifters?” he asked through a laugh. “Are they an ongoing problem in your complex?”
Andie pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “I hate you,” she finally managed.
“Why don’t you just break in?”
“Break in?” she echoed incredulously. “What do you think I am?”
“It’s your own house!” he laughed. “Everyone’s done it at least once in their life. Use a credit card.”
“That only works in the movies,” she said, but she rolled awkwardly to the side and pulled herself up on her knees, examining the doorknob. Did she even have a credit card on her? At this point, she’d be willing to try anything. She just wanted her bed. She cocked her head to the side and held the phone with her shoulder, struggling to regain her balance before she started rummaging through her purse again. “Alright, I give,” she sighed. “How do you do this credit card thing?”
“Actually, I have a better idea,” she heard Chase say, although his voice sounded strange, almost like an echo. She went to switch her phone to the other ear, freezing when she saw something in her peripheral vision.
She slowly turned her head to the side, and her heart leapt into her throat.
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 f
inger 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 couc
h, 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.”
Emancipating Andie Page 13
