Emancipating Andie (20 page)

C
hase sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the cell phone in his hands.

He wanted to call her.

He had pulled up her number three times, but he couldn’t bring himself to press send. He had no idea what he would even to say to her. What he
did
know was that he hated the way he had left things off with her the night before.

He never meant to invade her privacy that night in South Carolina, but once he started reading, he couldn’t stop. Her words manipulated him, drawing him in and pushing him away, intriguing him, riveting him, enticing him. He knew on some level that he was trespassing, that he was learning her with every word, that he was privy to her mind as she lay sleeping next to him, and he felt his blood race through his veins with the intimacy of it. He drank her words with fervor, and when they ended abruptly in the middle of a chapter, instead of feeling sated, he felt ravenous.

He inhaled slowly, bringing her number up on the screen one more time. He shouldn’t have told her the way he did, but being so close to her again, feeling her hands on him, her eyes on him, made him want to rip down all of the bullshit walls they were both hiding behind. He just wanted to say everything he was feeling, everything he’d been thinking for weeks.

But he knew that he wouldn’t.

So he had been honest with her in the only way he could at that moment, and the look on her face after he had confessed what he’d done had threatened to completely rid him of his already rapidly deteriorating self-control.

So he left.

Like a coward.

Leaving her to try and make sense of everything on her own.

Chase brought his thumb to the send button. He just wanted to hear her voice again, to tell her he was sorry that he upset her, even though he knew he’d never be sorry for reading it.

He exhaled heavily, moving his thumb to the right and hitting the button to clear the screen instead. With an irritated shake of his head, he tossed the phone onto the tangled sheets next to him, catching sight of the stack of pictures on the small table next to his bed. He reached over, flipping through them quickly until he found the one he wanted.

She was laughing; her hair was windblown, little tendrils curling and whipping around her face as she glanced over at the camera, at him.

It was the picture he’d taken when he told her he wanted evidence of the day she threw caution to the wind, the day she took him to Tybee Island. With a heavy sigh, he fell back onto his bed, placing the picture on his chest as he closed his eyes, wishing he could go back to that point in time.

He hated it, this unsatisfied feeling of wanting, the constant thoughts of her that consumed him. Chase knew what the problem was; he never held back like this, never kept himself from what he wanted, at least not anymore, and so he had no coping strategies to fall back on.

Chase’s eyes flipped open as he heard the muffled ringing of his phone, and he sat up quickly, rifling through the sheets until his hand wrapped around it, trying to smother the tiny ember of hope that it would be her.

Incoming call from Tyler.

He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly before he hit the button to take the call.

“Tyler,” Chase said into the phone.

“Hey man, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, just trying to figure out some shit for work,” Chase said, standing from the bed and running his hand through his hair. He reached down and grabbed the picture of Andie. “What are you up to?”

“Me and Matt are heading down to Ripley’s to shoot some pool. You wanna meet us down there?”

Chase stared at Andie’s face before he lifted his eyes, catching sight of his image in the mirror; his shoulders were slumped, his face miserable as he clutched the photo of her.

Pathetic.

He shook his head at his reflection before he leaned over and slid her picture underneath the stack of photographs, the metaphor not lost on him. He was burying it, just like he would try to bury this feeling, until he had completely forgotten about both.

And he would start tonight.

“Ripley’s?” Chase said. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“There’s no way you’re making this,” Matt said, gesturing toward the table with his bottle before he took a long swig of beer.

Chase laughed as he leaned over the table, lining up the shot. “You wanna make this interesting?”

“Hell yes, I do,” Matt said. “There’s no fucking way. If you make this shot, I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the night.”

Chase smiled, lifting his eyes from the shot for a second to look at his friend. “Careful, Matty,” he said. “I think I’m getting a taste for some Macallan. Or maybe a little Dalmore Sixty-Two.”

Matt stared blankly at him. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Chase burst out laughing. “Dalmore is quality scotch. That shit will cost you about sixty grand a bottle. You never heard of it? Get some fucking class,” he said, bringing his eyes back to the table. He tried to ignore his friends’ laughter as he lined up his shot, sliding the cue slowly between his fingers. He stilled, taking a breath before he thrust it forward, sending the cue ball spinning across the table. It banked off the opposite end of the table and spun to the right, barely missing Matt’s four ball and tapping the side of the eight ball, sending it gliding into the side pocket.

“Fuck yes!” Chase shouted, pointing at his friend who stood there speechless with his jaw dropped.

“Holy shit,” Tyler laughed. “I can’t believe you just pulled that off.”

“I can’t believe I have to buy this asshole a glass of sixty-thousand-dollar scotch,” Matt said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chase walked over and clapped him on the back. “Why don’t we start with a Heineken,” he grinned, twirling the cue between his fingers as he walked back toward the other side of the table. As he reached for the chalk, his eyes fell on a girl sitting at the bar. She was looking at him, and the second they made eye contact, she smiled shyly, looking away.

Chase kept his eyes on her as he chalked the cue; she had turned away from him slightly, her wavy red hair shielding her face from him, and his eyes dropped to take in the rest of her. She was wearing black pants and a green shirt that fit her just right. He could see that her stomach was flat, that her chest swelled nicely before it was concealed by the length of her hair. He lifted his eyes back to her face just as she tucked the curtain of red behind her ear, glancing again in his direction. She smiled again, her face flushing slightly as she looked away.

“Alright, Heineken it is,” Matt sighed, walking past Chase.

“Hold up,” Chase said, taking the twenty out of Matt’s hand. “I’ll get the drinks. You rack.” He grabbed the triangle off the side of the table and tossed it to his friend as he walked toward the bar.

He kept to the right, leaving several chairs between him and the girl. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, stealing glances at him as he waited.

“What can I get you?”

“Can I get three Heinekens?”

“Yup,” the bartender said as he turned and reached into the cooler, grabbing three bottles.

As he placed them on the bar, Chase asked, “That redhead down at the other end, do you know what she’s drinking?”

The bartender glanced discreetly in her direction, and Chase smiled at his skill. “Shiraz,” he said, looking up at Chase.

He nodded, reaching in his back pocket for his wallet. “And send her a glass of Shiraz, please.”

“You got it,” he said, taking the money Chase handed him.

He left a generous tip on the bar before he grabbed the three bottles, cocking his head over his shoulder as he walked back to the pool table. He saw the bartender place the glass of red wine down in front of her and say something, gesturing with his head in Chase’s direction. She turned, a slow smile curving her lips as she made eye contact with him.

“
Thank you
,” she mouthed, and Chase winked, smiling when he saw her cheeks flush a shade of red that rivaled her hair.

“Alright man, see you in a few,” he heard Matt say, and he turned his head in his friend’s direction just in time to see him end the call and put his phone back in his pocket.

“Who was that?” he asked, handing Matt one of the beers.

“Colin. He’s on his way here.”

Chase froze. At the mention of his name, he felt something welling in the pit of his stomach. Something he hadn’t felt in years, because he made no apologies for himself anymore.

He dropped his head, exhaling softly.

He hadn’t seen Colin since Florida, and tonight was not the night he wanted to see him again. He was trying to get his mind off of everything, and the last thing he needed was a flesh and blood reminder of why he couldn’t have what he wanted.

A reminder of what a shitty friend he had become.

“Break,” Chase said to Tyler as he picked up his cue, trying to rid himself of the irritating feeling in his stomach.

Grow up
, he thought, taking a swig of his beer.
This won’t be awkward unless you make it awkward.

A few minutes later, he heard the door swing open, and he glanced up, catching sight of Colin walking through the door. And at that moment, he knew it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as he thought it would be.

It was going to be a hundred times worse.

Because right behind him, her hair loose and wild, her cheeks flushed with cold and her hand clasped in his, was Andie.

He longed for the uneasiness he felt before; it would have been much preferred to the nausea that now rolled through him. He stood quickly, turning away from the door and bringing the bottle to his lips, taking down the rest of his beer.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Colin! What’s up,” he heard Tyler say behind him, and he knew there was nowhere for him to go. He grit his teeth together and squeezed his eyes shut before he righted his expression and turned, an easy smile on his face.

“What’s up, Chase,” Colin said.

“Good to see you, man,” Chase responded, clapping him on the shoulder with his smile still intact. “How are things?”

“Great,” Colin said with a shrug, slipping one of his hands around the small of Andie’s back, and Chase fought hard to keep the smile on his face, to keep his eyes on his friend.

Colin turned to Andie. “You want a drink, babe?”

“Your shot, man,” he heard Tyler say, and he turned from them, thankful for the distraction. Chase blinked quickly, trying to focus on the table.

What reason could he give for leaving
? Chase thought as he attempted to line up a shot. He could fake an important phone call. He could say he didn’t feel well. He could say he was tired.

“T-t-t-today, Junior!” Tyler yelled.

Chase forced a smile, thrusting the cue forward, having no idea where he even sent the cue ball or what it would hit. He heard the clatter of a few balls, followed by Tyler’s jeering.

And when he stood and turned, he nearly bumped right into her.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, backing up quickly.

“No, it’s okay, I shouldn’t have walked behind you like that,” she said softly.

He nodded, looking at her, and she alternated between making eye contact with him and looking somewhere over his shoulder.

“Hi,” Chase finally said, and she smiled tentatively.

“Hi.”

A tension filled the space between them, so thick that Chase felt as if he couldn’t breathe. It was not the uncomfortable awkwardness that comes when there’s nothing to say, but rather when there are a million things, but they’re left unsaid.

“Here you go,” Colin said, his presence offering a sort of ironic relief, and Andie turned, taking the glass of wine out of his hands.

“Thank you,” she said, glancing at Chase one more time before she crossed to the other side of the table.

“Alright, we’re playing doubles,” Tyler said. “Colin, you’re with me. McGuire’s losing his hot streak anyway,” he added, and Chase flipped him off just as Matt came over to him.

“Yo, dude, you okay?”

Chase straightened up as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m good, why?”

“That last shot sucked, bro,” he laughed. “Pull it together if you want to stay on my team.” He slapped him on the back as he crossed to the other side of the table.

He watched Matt line up his shot, and out of his peripheral vision, he could see Colin sweep Andie’s hair over her shoulder and plant a soft kiss on the side of her neck.

He had to get the fuck out of there.

He would finish this game, and then he’d say something, anything, that would explain his sudden departure. He just needed to get through this game. That was it. He’d throw it if he had to. And actually, at that moment, that seemed like his best plan of attack.

Ten excruciating minutes later, as he circled the table and attempted to look like he was strategizing, he heard Andie say, “No, it’s okay, really. You stay.”

“Babe, if you don’t feel well, I’ll drive you home.”

Chase bent over the table, his entire focus on the conversation happening a few feet away.

“No, it’s okay. It’s just a headache. I’ll be fine. Stay. You hardly ever get to see these guys.”