Emancipating Andie

“Okay,” she whispered, and he ended the call.

When Colin arrived twenty minutes later, Andie was still sitting on the couch, her knees pulled into her chest and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“Hey,” he said softly, shutting the front door and pulling off his jacket. He was wearing a sweatshirt and track pants, his hair still rumpled with sleep.

“Hi,” Andie said sheepishly. “Thank you for coming.”

Colin smiled then, moving toward her and bringing his mouth to hers as he pressed her back onto the cushions.

Andie made a surprised noise against his lips, gently kissing him back as he crawled above her. She felt his hands push the blanket off her shoulders, and then his mouth was on her neck as he used his thighs to open her legs before settling between them.

“Colin,” she said.

He hummed softly as his hand made its way up her shirt, finding her breast and ru

“Colin,” she said again. “Wait.”

“What is it?” he said against her throat. “I’m here now, baby. I need you, too.”

It took her a second to process what he’d said, and as soon as she did, she felt like the world’s biggest idiot. Of course that’s what he thought she meant. What else would he think? She had called him in the middle of the night and asked him to come over. I just need you, she had told him.

Colin ground himself against her, bringing his mouth back to hers, and Andie brought her hands up to his shoulders, pushing him back slightly. Their lips broke contact with a tiny grunt of protest from him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked through his labored breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Andie trailed off, ru

Colin pushed himself up slightly on his arms, and Andie opened her eyes, looking up at him.

“What did you mean then? What’s going on?”

She took a tiny breath. “I just didn’t want to be alone tonight. I had a bad dream,” she said softly, and even as the words left her mouth, she realized how ridiculous they sounded.

Andie watched his expression turn from perplexed to amused. “You had a bad dream?” he asked, fighting a smile.

She nodded beneath him.

He chuckled softly as he lowered himself back down to her. “Poor baby,” he crooned in her ear before he ran his tongue over the lobe. “Let me make it all better.”

“No, Colin, stop,” she said, shifting beneath him again. “I’m serious. I just…I don’t feel right.”

He pushed himself up onto his arms again, looking down at her with his brow furrowed.

“Can we just talk?” she asked.

“Talk,” he repeated. He inhaled deeply before ru

Colin lifted off of her and Andie shifted, pressing her body against the back of the couch to make room for him. He laid on his side and faced her, gripping her hip and pulling her against his body. Andie buried her face in his chest, and she felt him rest his chin on the top of her head.

“What was the dream about?”

Andie closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled into his shirt, and she felt him take a deep breath before he exhaled heavily.

She could tell he was disappointed, although she wasn’t sure if it was because she had made him come to her apartment in the middle of the night over a dream she wouldn’t even tell him about, or because he thought he was coming over for sex and just got turned down.

She felt like she should give him something, she just didn’t know what. She knew she couldn’t bring herself to have sex with him, though. Not right now, with her emotions jumbled up the way they were. And she definitely wasn’t ready to talk about the dream.

Andie had been keeping so many things from him lately, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only way to make it better would be to offer something of herself up to him in this moment. Maybe doing so, even if it were the smallest thing, might be a step in the right direction.

One step closer to the way things used to be.

“I want to write a book,” she said suddenly, holding her breath as she waited for his response.

Colin reached up and smoothed his hand over the back of her head. “What kind of book?”

Andie felt her heart pick up as she smiled into his shirt. “A love story.”

He shifted beside her, pressing his lips against the crown of her head as he laughed softly. “You’re cute.”

Her smile dropped, and her heart immediately followed. “I’m cute?”

Colin nodded against her, kissing her head again.

“How is that cute?” she asked hollowly.

He leaned back, putting his fingers under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “Don’t sound so wounded. I’m paying you a compliment.”

“Not really,” she said, looking up at him. “I don’t want to be called cute. I want to be taken seriously.”

“Okay,” he said, ru

Andie blinked up at him, and he added, “If you want to be taken seriously, I just don’t see love stories as the way to go. It will be much more gratifying if you write something that has some substance, you know? Something people can respect.”

She continued to stare up at him and he smiled, leaning down and pressing his lips to her forehead before tucking her head back underneath his chin.

She could have argued. She wanted to argue, but she didn’t have it in her. His words had taken all the fight out of her, and with it, the shred of hope that momentarily flared in her chest when he showed interest in the idea of her becoming a writer.

After all, there was no point in arguing with him. Deep down, she had expected this very reaction. This was Colin. He was realistic. He was practical. He was levelheaded. He made well-thought-out decisions that involved little or no risk. She knew this about him. She loved this about him.

She thought she loved this about him.

All she had wanted tonight was some peace of mind, some reassurance that this confusion was just a phase, that she and Colin were going to be okay.

But as she lay there in his arms, she wasn’t sure that was true anymore.

Andie closed her eyes, trying to focus on the traits she had always found so appealing in him. That steadfast and unyielding logic that used to make her feel comforted, reassured.

Stable.

Instead, she felt unsettled. She felt frustrated. And as she pressed her lips together, fighting the growing sting behind her eyes, she realized that above everything else, she felt like she was smothering.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Chase 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.