Текст книги "Emancipating Andie"

Автор книги: Priscilla Glenn

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“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.

CHAPTER THREE

Andie sat in the driver’s seat with the windows down, a gentle breeze playing with the tendrils of hair that had worked themselves free from her ponytail. She held a pretzel to her lips, nibbling on the edge of it, her eyes combing the area and finding no trace of him.

She had never been to Richmond, Virginia before, but to her it looked like any other place. Certainly, the rest stop where they had chosen to grab snacks and use the bathroom wasn’t anything extraordinary, so she had no idea what he was taking pictures of. But as soon as they got back to the car with their food, he reached in and grabbed his camera, telling her he’d be back in a few minutes.

Andie rested her head back against the seat and glanced at the clock. It was just after two; they were making good time, she thought, surprised by the fact that eight hours had passed since they started the drive that morning.

Much to her amazement, it had gone by pretty quickly.

After the first hour, which was admittedly one of the most awkward and tense hours of her life, something had changed. That comment he made, the one about her guardian angel looking out for her, struck a nerve; she would have never expected something like that to come out of his mouth, something so optimistic, so…sweet.

And maybe it was because she acknowledged that side of him that the next seven hours were an improvement; they alternated between lulls of silence, where they’d listen to music or take in their surroundings, and little bouts of conversation. Their exchanges were very basic, all superficial, surface-type things, but still, he hadn’t said anything truly offensive since then, and not once did she feel her defenses fly up. The whole thing was—dare she use the word—bearable.

Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and she lifted her eyes to see Chase walking back toward the car. His eyes were downcast as he pressed a few buttons, scanning the images in his camera with his brow furrowed in concentration. He lifted his hand, swiping the hair out of his eyes, and just before he reached the car, he looked up. For the first time, perhaps because of the way the sun hit them, or perhaps because she was looking at him with something other than contempt, she noticed what a pretty shade of green they were.

“Hey, sorry I took so long,” he said, sliding back into the car and turning to put the camera in the backseat.

“No, it’s fine,” Andie said, watching him stretch over the seat as she started the car. She found herself looking around as they pulled back onto the road, still wondering what he saw as a photographic opportunity at this place. “So, did you get any good shots?”

Chase shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, leaning his arm on the open window and extending his hand outside, allowing it to undulate as he played with the wind. “I never know if I’ve gotten anything good until a few days later. I have to remove myself from the situation first.”

“Remove yourself from the situation?”

“Yeah. Right now I’m still seeing those things the way I saw them with my eyes, and those images get all mixed up with the pictures when I look at them.”

Andie pulled her brow together, and she heard him chuckle softly next to her.

“It’s hard to explain. It’s just easier for me to evaluate something when I’m looking at it objectively. Right now, it’s too soon for me to do that.”

Andie nodded. “No, I think I get it,” she said, and he smiled over at her before turning his attention back to his hand, riding the breeze outside like a roller coaster.

She did understand what he meant; she felt that way sometimes about her writing. There were times when she just had to walk away, to leave it for a few hours, or sometimes a few days, before she could go back to it and see if it were any good. When she was in the midst of it, she was too close to it to make any kind of rational decision.

Andie hit the button on the steering wheel to turn on the radio, and they fell back into one of their stretches of silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Every now and then, she would glance over, watching his hand out the window rise and fall on the wind as it kept tune to the music, and she couldn’t help but smile at the childlike gesture.

As she turned her eyes back to the road, a woman standing on the shoulder caught her attention. She looked to be somewhere in her thirties, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Her hair was somewhat disheveled, pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, and as she heard Andie’s car approaching, she turned quickly and extended her arm, her thumb up in the air and a hopeful expression in her eyes.

As Andie sped past her, she lifted her eyes to the rearview, watching the woman drop her arm back to her side and shove her hands in her pockets as she continued walking up the side of the highway.

Andie chewed on her lower lip, looking back to the rearview every few seconds, watching the woman get smaller and smaller until she finally disappeared.

“You know what I think is really sad?” she said.

Chase turned his head to look at her.

“That we live in a world where you have to be afraid to help people.”

He barked a short laugh. “Where did that come from?”

“That woman,” Andie said, looking in her rearview even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to see her anymore. “The one who was hitchhiking. I mean, you’d have to be crazy to stop and pick up a hitchhiker. That’s just asking for trouble. But at the same time, that poor lady could be out there for hours. And what if she’s just a normal person, not a thief or a killer, just someone who needs help? No one in his right mind would stop to pick her up. And if someone did stop, then she would have to be concerned for her own safety, because what kind of lunatic would let a complete stranger who could very well be crazy into his car? How could she be sure he wouldn’t pick her up just to take her into the woods somewhere and kill her? So not only do we have to be afraid to help people, but we also have to be afraid of people who want to help us. I just think that’s really sad.”

She took a small breath, looking over at him. His eyebrows were raised ever so slightly. “Wow,” he said, a smile curving his lips, “that was quite a rant.”

She bit her lip and shrugged. “But…do you know what I mean?” she asked softly, feeling a little embarrassed that she had just vented so openly.

His smile grew a bit more pronounced as he turned in his seat to face her. “You know something? I’ve never met anyone who lives as cautiously as you do. So by the book,” he said, using finger quotes. “Do you always play by the rules?”

She pressed her lips together, turning back toward the road as the familiar irritation crept its way up her spine. She knew it was too good to be true, the temporary ceasefire that had miraculously developed between them this afternoon.

Chase turned forward in his seat, clasping his hands behind his head. “You know what I think is sad?”

Andie kept her mouth closed, afraid of what he would say next. She didn’t want to go back to the way things were that morning. In fact, she just wished she hadn’t said anything at all.

“I think it’s sad that we’ll never know her,” Chase said.

She glanced over at him suspiciously.

“Think of how many people there are in the world that you’ll never know. Like that guy right there,” he said, nodding toward the car that whizzed by them. “What’s that guy’s name? Where’s he going? Is he happy with his life? Did he want Bella to end up with Edward or Jacob?”

Andie’s lips twitched as Chase brought one of his hands down from behind his head. “Or how about the guy you bought the pretzels from,” he said, gesturing toward the bag on Andie’s lap. “That’s the last you’ll ever see of that guy in your life. That was the sole experience you were meant to have with that man. Your paths will never cross again. And he could be the coolest guy in the world,” Chase added, holding his hands up in shrug, “but you’ll never know him.”

Andie sat quietly, unsure of whether or not this was something he actually thought about, or if he was just trying his hand at a nonsensical rant to poke fun at her.

“Or,” Chase sighed, interrupting her thoughts, “maybe he’s the world’s biggest douchebag, in which case you’re better off.”

A laugh bubbled out of Andie’s throat, and she pressed her fingers to her lips to stifle it as she looked over at him. A slow grin spread over his face, and she smiled as she brought her hand back to the wheel and shook her head.

Andie saw him shift to face her out of the corner of her eye. “Here, you know what? Let’s clear both our consciences. That lady, that hitchhiker…she’s an aspiring actress.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “Roll with me. She’s an aspiring actress. She was on her way to an audition, and her car crapped out on her.”

Andie looked at him for a second before she realized what he wanted her to do. “Okay,” she said before she brought her eyes back to the road. “Um…she works as a waitress to support herself, and if she doesn’t get this part, she won’t have the money to get her car fixed.”

Chase nodded sadly, as if they were speaking about someone they knew. “Sucks,” he said. “And she practiced for that role for weeks. It was perfect for her.”

“But she can still get there,” Andie added hopefully. “She can call a cab.”

“Hmm, she could,” Chase said, “if her cell phone was getting a signal. Which it isn’t.”

“Well then, she just has to keep walking until she gets service.”

“Which is exactly what she’s doing when a car pulls up behind her.”

Andie looked at Chase, her expression uneasy, and he nodded. “Yep. The car pulls up behind her, and the guy inside wants to help. So she has to make a choice: she can say no and keep walking, and hope she’ll get service soon so she can call that cab, or she can let this guy help her.”

Andie chewed anxiously on her lip. “Yeah, but you know what?” she finally said. “The guy has two little girls in the car. Twins. And they’re calling him Uncle Bobby. And one of them is asking him why they’re stopping because they were supposed to get ice-cream cones.” Andie paused before she glanced at Chase. “Killers don’t take their nieces to get ice-cream cones.”

He shook his head and laughed. “Okay, so I take it she’s gonna let Uncle Not-a-Killer Bobby help her?”

Andie nodded. “Yep. Turns out they have a lot in common. He knows where her audition is.”

“Perfect,” Chase said. “So what happens?”

“Well, he takes her to the audition. They have a good talk on the way. And he even drives her home afterward.”

“Where’s her car?”

“Oh, it was towed a while back,” Andie said with a wave of her hand, and Chase smiled.

“Does she get the part?”

“She does,” Andie said. “She got there just in time. And she calls Uncle Bobby to thank him for helping her that day, and he invites her out to celebrate.”

Chase lifted his eyebrows. “He does? Wow, props to Uncle Bobby.”

Andie laughed softly.

“And you know what happened after that, don’t you?” he asked.

She nodded. “They lived happily ever after.”

“No, they had crazy monkey sex in every room of her apartment.”

Andie whirled around, smacking him in the chest, and he flinched, rubbing the spot she hit and laughing to himself.

“God,” she said.

“Okay, okay, they lived happily ever after. After the monkey sex.”

Andie stifled a laugh, shaking her head.

“See?” Chase said. “Everything worked out for her the way it should have. And all because we didn’t stop to help her.”

She allowed herself to smile then, looking over at him. “Thank you,” she said softly.

He stared at her for a second before he cleared his throat.

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly, turning to look out the passenger window again.

CHAPTER FOUR

It was uncomfortable again.

After the hour or so that morning they had spent at each other’s throats, somehow he and Andie had fallen into a better place. In fact, there were some moments when things seemed just fine between them. Easy, even. Then suddenly, for one reason or another, things would turn awkward, and they’d both wait it out until the air cleared and they could start over. It seemed to be a “two steps forward, one step back” kind of deal, and he wasn’t sure why.

Actually, that wasn’t true. He knew perfectly well why it was like that between them; despite the fact that Andie had loosened up a bit since that morning, she was still cautious and uptight by nature, and whenever Chase said something she thought was mocking her, she would pull back.

But she hadn’t been the one who pulled back this time.

No, this time it had been Chase who had retreated, after they had played that little storytelling game with the hitchhiker. The way she had smiled at him, the way she said thank you, did something funny to the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like it.

Actually, he did like it. And therein was the problem.

So Chase had removed himself for a bit so he could shake it off, and they had been in their little awkward bubble ever since. In the car, it wasn’t as noticeable. They could listen to the radio or watch the scenery.

But sitting across from each other in a diner, waiting for their food, the discomfort was palpable and borderline unbearable.

Time to start over, he thought.

Chase tore a tiny piece off the corner of his napkin and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger until it was a perfect little ball. Then he reached over to the side of the table and grabbed one of the empty coffee creamers, placing it in the center of the table. He glanced up at Andie before he took aim, tossing the paper ball toward the cup.

It landed perfectly inside the empty creamer.

“Ha!” Chase said. “Now you have to tell me a favorite.”

“Huh?”

“When I was little, my mom used to play this game with me all the time while we were waiting for our food. You make the shot, you get to ask the other person one of their favorites.”

Andie looked at him, a hint of confusion behind her eyes. “Okay?”

Chase smiled. “So, what’s your favorite…movie?”

She took a breath, glancing toward the kitchen before she looked back to Chase. “Favorite movie?” she said distractedly. “I guess Gone With the Wind.”

“Cliché,” he sighed, and Andie huffed heavily.

“Do you always have to make a comment?” she said. “You do understand the concept behind playing a game, right? It’s supposed to be fun.”

“I know. I’m having a great time.”

Andie rolled her eyes as he laughed to himself, centering the creamer once again.

“Your turn,” he said.

She stared at him, unmoving, and he smiled. “Come on. You can make fun of my answer if it will make you feel better.”

“I don’t get my kicks out of making other people feel stupid,” she said, but she reached over and pulled a tiny piece off her napkin before balling it up.

Chase watched her line up the shot, squinting one eye as she took aim, and he bit the corner of his lip to stop himself from laughing.

Andie sighed heavily, dropping her hand to the table. “This is an impossible shot.”

“No it’s not. I just made it.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been playing this game your whole life.”

Chase laughed out loud. “I played it a handful of times when I was a kid! You’re making it sound like I was a contender in the Napkin Ball Olympics.”

Andie stared at him before she said, “The Napkin Ball Olympics?”

He laughed again as he pushed the tiny plastic cup off to the side of the table, and then he picked up his mug and quickly drained the rest of it before placing it down in the center of the table.

“There. Try it now. This is how I trained my rookie year.”

She laughed softly before she lined up her shot, tossing the paper ball easily into the mug. Her eyes flashed with triumph before she quickly reined it in and cleared her throat. “Okay, um…favorite song?”

“Wind Beneath My Wings.”

Andie laughed loudly, immediately cupping her hand over her mouth, and Chase did his best to look offended.

“I thought you weren’t going to make fun of my answer.”

“You set me up!”

“No, I didn’t. It’s an amazing song.”

She shook her head. “You are such a liar.”

Chase’s cheeks hurt with the effort to remain expressionless, and he finally broke, his grin followed by a throaty chuckle. As soon as she heard his laughter, Andie rolled her eyes. “I knew it.”

“Too many favorites to name,” he said, tearing another corner off his napkin. “Plus, it depends on my mood.”

Before she could press him further, Chase dropped his gaze to the mug and lined up his shot. It should have been a harmless question, but music was a personal thing for him; sharing his favorites always felt so intimate, like pulling out little pieces of his soul and laying them bare.

And the fact that he found himself wanting to have that conversation with her was enough of a red flag that he shouldn’t do it.

Chase tossed the little napkin ball into the mug easily. He glanced up at her, and she lifted her brow in challenge. She was back in one of her open moods, it seemed, and he figured he’d take advantage of the opportunity.

“Favorite thing about Colin?”

Her eyes dropped as her cheeks flushed. “I’m not gonna tell you that.”

He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked in the first place, but her reaction only served to make him more curious. He felt like he had a pretty good handle on what turned her off.

But he honestly had no idea what she was drawn to.

“Why won’t you tell me?” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Is it sex stuff?”

Andie’s cheeks went from pink to scarlet. “No!” she said abruptly, shaking her head. When the corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile, she added, “No, I mean, that’s fine. He’s fine. At that. God,” she groaned, dropping her face into her hands.

He should have been trying to put her out of her misery, but he loved seeing her flustered. She was normally so poised, so self-assured. Watching her this way made her seem so unguarded.

He felt like he was getting a glimpse at the real her.

The waiter approached the table then, giving them their food and asking if they needed anything else. After they both declined, Chase turned toward the other end of the table and reached to grab the ketchup.

“He makes me feel safe.”

He froze with his hand on the bottle, looking over at her. Her eyes were on her plate as she pulled the excess lettuce off her sandwich.

“He makes you feel safe?”

She reached over and grabbed the salt, avoiding his eyes as sprinkled some on her French fries.

Chase dropped his hand from the ketchup, turning to face her fully. “Do you live in a particularly rough neighborhood?”

Andie shook her head gently. “Forget it,” she said under her breath, taking a bite of her sandwich and looking off toward the kitchen as she chewed delicately.

He watched her for another second before he dropped his eyes, and then he grabbed the ketchup, absently shaking some on his burger. Of all the answers she could have given, he definitely hadn’t expected that. She certainly didn’t carry herself like someone who needed to be taken care of.

Chase heard her clear her throat softly and he looked up. As her eyes met his, she forced a tiny smile. “Favorite food?”

Under different circumstances, he would have refused to answer the question on the grounds that she hadn’t gotten a napkin ball in the cup, but she looked so desperate to move past that little moment that he played along.

“Filet mignon.”

Andie nodded. “Nice.”

“Fantastic,” he corrected before taking a bite of his burger, and for a minute, they both chewed in silence.

“Your turn,” she said.

He felt his brow lift before he righted his expression. After his last question, he hadn’t expected her to want to play anymore. “Okay. Um, favorite…swear word?”

She shook her head. “Don’t have one.”

“Oh come on. There are so many great ones.”

Andie shook her head again, and he said, “I mean, what’s better than a well-used fuck?”

Her eyes widened ever so slightly as she glanced around the nearby tables.

“Stop,” she mouthed.

Chase laughed softly as he cocked his head at her. “What’s your issue with swear words?” She shrugged. “I just think they’re unnecessary. And rude.”

“Why are they rude?”

She tilted her head. “Come on, Chase.”

“I’m serious,” he said, leaning on the table with his forearms. “What makes them rude? Explain to me why poop is not a bad word, but shit is.”

Andie’s lips twitched. “Poop?”

Chase smirked before he said, “You know I’m right. They’re just two different words for the same thing. Why is one bad? I mean, if that’s the case, why isn’t porridge a bad word for oatmeal?”

Andie blinked at him. “Shouldn’t we be passing a joint back and forth while having this conversation?”

Chase burst out laughing, sitting back against the booth. “Do you have one?”

“Not on me, I’m afraid,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

He smiled as he shook his head, picking up his burger and taking another bite. “You know,” he said around his mouthful of food, “you didn’t answer that one, so technically, it should be my turn again.”

She waved her hand over the table, giving him permission to proceed.

Chase thought it over as he chewed. “Favorite saying?” he finally asked.

Andie pursed her lips, looking up at the ceiling, and his eyes automatically dropped to her mouth, noticing how full her lips looked when she did that; he pulled his attention away almost immediately, studying the French fry in his hand as he swirled it through the ketchup on his plate.

“Everything happens for a reason,” she finally said.

“What?” Chase scoffed as his eyes flashed back to hers. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s total horseshit,” he laughed. “That’s just some crap people say when something bad happens and they have no way to explain it. It’s a pathetic way to try and make somebody feel better. And if anything, it has the reverse effect.”

Andie shrugged. “I disagree.”

“Anytime anyone has ever said that to me, it just made me want to punch them in the face.”

“That’s because you’re an asshole,” she said matter-of-factly before taking a bite of her sandwich.

Chase’s mouth dropped. “Was that a profane word that just left your mouth?”

“That one was warranted,” she explained, and he smiled.

“Tell you what,” he said, placing his burger on the plate and leaning in on his elbows. “If you can convince me that bullshit saying has any merit, lunch is on me.”

Andie looked at him for a second before she carefully placed her sandwich on the plate. “When you were a kid, did you ever get grounded?”

“Of course I did.”

“What for?”

Chase laughed. “Lots of stuff.”

“Try and remember one specific time.”

He looked up at her; she sat poker faced as she waited for an answer. He had no idea what any of this had to do with anything, but he figured he’d humor her.

“When I was seventeen, my mother found my fake ID.”

Andie smiled. “How long were you grounded?”

“I can’t remember now. A couple of weeks, I think.”

“Were you pissed at her?”

“I’m sure I was.”

“But do you understand why she was upset over you having a fake ID?”

“Of course,” he said, taking another bite of his burger.

“Why was she upset, then? Explain it to me.”

He stopped chewing, lifting his eyes to hers. “What the hell are you doing? Running a guilt trip on me for something I did when I was seventeen?”

“No, I’m just making a point. Why do you think she was so upset?”

Chase exhaled. “Because it was illegal. And the shit I was doing with it was illegal too.”

“So if you understand why she was upset, then why were you mad when she punished you?”

Chase looked at her as if she was crazy. “Because what kid wants to be punished? Plus, at the time, I didn’t think it was such a big deal. Everybody had fake IDs.”

Andie smiled slowly, and he suddenly felt as if he had just stepped into a trap.

“So at the time, you couldn’t understand why your behavior deserved a consequence, and you were angry about receiving one. But now that you’ve grown up, and you have some perspective, you can understand how having a fake ID would get you into trouble, and you probably appreciate the fact that you had a mother who cared about you enough to make sure you were doing the right thing.”

Chase dropped his burger on to his plate. “What’s your point, Andie?”

“All I’m saying is, sometimes things happen, and we don’t see them clearly, either because we’re not at the right point in our life, or we’re too closely involved to understand. But just because we can’t see the reason behind things doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

Chase felt his back straighten. This conversation was starting to make him angry. “So when people die, when good people die before their time, there’s a reason for that?”

“I don’t know,” Andie said. Her expression turned empathetic as she tilted her head. “It doesn’t seem fair, but…maybe it’s like we’re in our ‘teenage’ years right now, and we’re not able to see the big picture yet. Maybe after we die, it’s like we grow up, and we finally get the perspective we need to understand why things happen in life. Kind of like how you didn’t understand or appreciate your mother’s punishment until you became an adult. You see it differently now. You understand. Maybe after we die, it’s like that.”

Chase stared at her and she looked back at him, waiting. There was such openness and sincerity behind her expression, and that look on her face, combined with the words she had just said, suddenly made him feel like there was a lump in his throat.

He cleared it quickly, picking up his burger again. “Shouldn’t we be passing a joint back and forth while having this conversation?” he grumbled.

“Do you have one?”

He looked up to see her smiling at him.

“Not on me, I’m afraid,” he said with a small laugh.

Andie sighed, picking her sandwich up and taking a bite. “Oh, and Chase?”

He lifted his eyes to hers again.

“Will you be paying for lunch with cash, or credit?”

Chase felt a slow smile creep over his lips, and she mirrored his expression before picking up her drink and taking a delicate sip.

He sighed heavily, shaking his head in amusement.

“Cash.”