Emancipating Andie

He smiled as he continued to lead her across the yard; the house itself was tiny and quaint, but the property was vast and sprawling, the plush grassy land ending against the shoreline of the wide lake behind it. There was a small dock that extended several feet into the water, and Chase walked them a few steps on to it.

He stopped then, turning to look at her as she took everything in: the deep blue water that rippled slightly in the breeze, the two tiny shapes all the way on the other side that looked like docks belonging to the houses on the opposite shore, the contrasting greens of the grass and the trees, the brilliant blue sky, speckled with feathery wisps of white clouds, the kind of sky that usually only existed in paintings. He should have been looking for his camera.

But all he could look at was her.

She turned toward him in bewilderment. “Okay, so…am I supposed to be having some sort of Bob Ross epiphany or something?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Not quite,” he said as he reached out and took her hand, intertwining their fingers. She jolted, her posture immediately growing rigid, but before she could fully react, he took off in a run, giving her no choice but to follow.

“Chase!” she screeched right before he ran off the edge of the dock, and the next sound was the substantial splash as they were completely submerged under the cool water.

Their hands immediately broke apart as they both began to swim to the surface, and Chase came up first, a rejuvenated laugh escaping his throat. A second later, Andie broke the surface, gasping loudly as she frantically swiped the water off her face. Her eyes were darting around wildly, her breath coming in short, startled huffs.

Chase was a few feet away from her, treading the water and gri

“That,” he said, flicking his fingers in the water and showering her with droplets, “is called doing something just because you feel like it and not giving a rat’s ass what anyone else thinks.” He smiled at her. “Fun, huh?”

She stared at him for what seemed like forever, saying nothing, until finally she pressed her lips together, stifling the giggle that quickly ballooned into irrepressible, hysterical laughter.

He laughed then, which only made her laugh harder, and in that moment, Chase was overcome with the completely inapt desire to swim over and wrap his arms around her.

But instead, he stayed where he was, treading water and listening to the sounds of their splashes combining with her unrestrained laughter like the most beautiful symphony.

CHAPTER SEVEN

After they stopped at a gas station to change into some dry clothes, Andie had good-naturedly revoked Chase’s driving privileges on the grounds that he could no longer be trusted. He agreed, under the condition that if he were to be stuck in the passenger seat again, he should at least get to pick the music they listened to. They had shaken on it before Chase tossed her the keys with an amused expression.

Now, Andie sat in the driver’s seat again; the space between them was quiet, an easy comfortable silence as Chase scrolled through her iPod looking for something to listen to. After a few minutes, he finally hit the button before snapping it into the dock and leaning back in his seat.

The opening chords to Counting Crow’s “Colorblind” filled the car, and Andie rested her head back against the seat and fought the urge to close her eyes. It was one of her favorite songs, just as much for the haunting melody as for the profound lyrics. The chords seemed to vibrate through her, warming her from the inside out, and as they drove down the desolate stretch of highway, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so contented.

She lazily turned her head to the side, looking at Chase; his head was back against the seat and his eyes were closed. The T-shirt he had changed into clung to his still-damp skin. There was the faintest hint of a five o’clock shadow defining his jawline, and his hair flipped away from his forehead and ears in wet curls, looking much darker than it was. Just before she turned her eyes back to the road, she noticed his hand on his thigh, his fingers moving to the notes as if he were playing some unseen piano.

“Do you play?” she asked.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed softly, his eyes still closed.

“Can you play this?”

He nodded. “It’s pretty simple,” he said. “The chords, I mean. Not the song. The song itself, the lyrics are just…” He trailed off, his voice lazy.

“Yeah, I know,” Andie said gently. They fell into silence again, listening to the song, until Andie sighed softly. “I’ve always wanted to play.”

Chase lifted his head to look at her. “You don’t play? You have a piano.”

“I know,” she said, shrugging guiltily, “I just thought it looked nice in the room.”

He smiled at that before resting his head back on the seat. “I’ll teach you to play this.”

“You will?” Andie asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Mm-hm. If you want,” he said softly, closing his eyes again.

She turned her eyes back to the road as the oddest feeling washed over her. For a second, she almost felt disoriented. How could only twenty-four hours have passed since they started this trip? To her, it felt like so much longer than that. And not in the way that a task seems to take forever when it’s tedious or mundane, but more in the way that she felt like the person sitting next to her was someone completely different from the one who climbed into her passenger seat yesterday morning. This person wasn’t callous, he wasn’t crude, he wasn’t antagonistic; he was smart, and fu

At that moment the disorientation gave way to a different, but much stronger feeling.

Shame.

Because she realized then that Chase had always been those things. She had just chosen not to see it. She had made the decision to pigeonhole him according to her own first impression of him, knowing all too well how incredibly deceiving first impressions could be.

Andie glanced over at him again. She had no idea if Chase knew what she had thought of him a day ago, but it didn’t matter. She felt terrible about it, whether he was aware or not.

But she knew how she could make it up to him.

Andie smiled to herself as the plan began taking shape in her mind. She had looked up some information on her phone when Chase was changing into dry clothes; she’d been looking at the map and saw the name of the place, remembering that Chase had mentioned it to her the day before, and her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

A little while later, Andie put on her blinker and took the exit off the highway, and Chase looked over at her.

“Again? You seriously have the bladder of an incontinent grandmother.”

“I don’t have to go to the bathroom,” she laughed.

“Then why are we getting off the highway?”

“We’re making a stop.”

His brow lifted. “A stop? Is this in the itinerary?”