Emancipating Andie

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 fu

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 go

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.