Emancipating Andie

His fingers faltered, an incongruous, off-key note clanging through the air, and his hands curled in so that he rested two clenched fists on the keys. The sudden silence echoed through the room, pregnant with impossibility.

“Chase,” she said again, and the longing in her voice disabled the last of his restraint.

He turned toward her quickly and she gasped, followed by a heavy sigh as her hands came to his sides, fisting his shirt and pulling him closer.

“Damn it, Andie,” Chase breathed as he brought his hands to the sides of her face, dropping his forehead to hers. He felt her grip on his shirt loosen, and she slowly ghosted her hands up and down the length of his sides, causing him to shudder.

He could feel her breath coming in tiny bursts, quivering and trembling over his lips, and he slid his hands down the sides of her face, over the pulsing heat of her neck, and along the tops of her shoulders. She sighed softly, and Chase grit his teeth together so hard that he felt pain in his jaw.

It felt like something inside him was burning. Heat coursed and pulsed through every part of him, and with every touch of that perfect, silken skin, the inferno blazed with renewed intensity.

Chase’s heart slammed in his chest as she began to tremble beneath his touch. He knew she was unraveling, and he wasn’t far behind her. He clenched his jaw again, trying to hold on to his last semblance of control.

Andie brought her hands up to Chase’s face, her touch unbelievably perfect, and she lifted her chin ever so slightly, trying to bring her lips to his.

He turned his head, moving his mouth away from hers, but even as he denied her lips the contact, even as he tried to do the right thing, his hands came to her hips, pulling her against him before his arms enveloped her, bringing her body flush with his.

Chase’s eyes rolled back slightly as she buried her face into his neck. “You said stop hiding,” she whispered against his skin, and Chase closed his eyes. “You said to stop playing by the rules. That I should do what I wanted to do.” When she spoke again, her voice trembled. “I’m trying. Why won’t you let me?”

Chase pulled back slightly so he could look in her eyes, and immediately her hands came to the sides of his neck. Their mouths were only centimeters apart; he could feel her breath on his lips, taste it on his tongue.

“I know what I said, Andie,” he murmured. “But I can’t let you do this. I won’t let you be spontaneous this way.” He brought his hand to her cheek, brushing the hair away from her face, their noses touching. “I want you to go after what you want, but not if it’s something that’s going to make you feel guilty. Not if it’s something that will make you disappointed in yourself.”

She pulled back slightly and stared up at him with those eyes, eyes that hid nothing, eyes that were chocolate and caramel and i

The hurt in her eyes was the final blow, shattering the last of his self-control.

He took her face in his hands, his eyes locked on hers. “I want you. You have no idea how much. I have wanted you since the second I saw you in that wine cellar.”

She closed her eyes, and he leaned in and touched their noses again. “But not like this. Not when it would be something we’d regret. I won’t do that to you. Or to him. I can’t.”

He heard her make a tiny sound, as if she were trying to contain her emotion.

“Andromeda,” he whispered, and she stilled, her breath catching in her throat.

He lifted his chin then, pressing his lips to her forehead, holding them there for what seemed like forever, as if he would lose a piece of himself once he broke contact with her.

And as he slowly pulled away from her, that’s exactly what it felt like.

He stood from the bench and ran the backs of his fingers down the side of her face before he turned and walked toward the door. A tiny piece of him was hoping she’d stop him, hoping she’d put up a fight, give him an excuse to break the rules.

But the only sound was the door opening and closing, and his footsteps as he walked farther and farther away from the place he wanted to be most.

Chase got to his car, the onslaught of emotions he had felt only moments before replaced by an eerie numbness. He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, driving aimlessly, turning on and off of roads that meant nothing to him.

He didn’t want to go home. But he knew he couldn’t go back.

He needed to go somewhere. Anywhere.

His loyalty to Colin should have been enough to prevent this. All of it. His feelings for Andie, his constant thoughts of her, his undeniable need to be near her. It should have been enough to stop him from going to her tonight. It shouldn’t even be a question in his mind, he realized. It shouldn’t be something he had to fight with himself over.

But it was.

What did that say about him, that his feelings for his friend’s girlfriend were proving to be stronger than his loyalty to that friend?

He sped onto the highway, his subconscious taking the reins. He hadn’t even realized where he was going until he was almost there.

By the time he arrived, nearly an hour had passed since he had left Andie, although it could have been seconds or days; time ran together, an insignificant blur to him.

Chase pulled up to the darkened street and cut the engine, twirling the keys between his fingers before he took a deep breath and exited the car. He knew it was closed, that the gate would be locked, but he also knew that the stone wall around it was low and easy to climb on the left side.

He approached it quickly, his breath visible before him in the darkness, and he placed his hands on top of the wall; with a quick jump, he was up and over the side, walking briskly through the uncut grass, his hands thrust in his pockets. His eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, barely making out the shapes of things as he passed, but he knew his way around this place better than he would have liked.

Finally he stopped, staring until his eyes could just distinguish its outline. He stood there for what seemed like forever, his eyes focused on the arch of it; the only sound was the rustling of the remaining leaves in the trees, and the low, distant hissing of cars on the wet asphalt.

Slowly Chase dropped to his knees, feeling the soil and the pebbles and the grass beneath his jeans. It had been too long since he’d been here.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around in a while,” he whispered, leaning forward and resting his forehead on the cold, rough stone; almost instantly, he felt the familiar quivering of his chin.

This time he wouldn’t even attempt to fight it; he’d had enough of trying to inhibit his emotions for one night. He felt his eyes begin to well, and at that moment, he welcomed it. He wanted it. He wanted to drain himself of every single emotion that fought for control in his chest until he felt empty.

There had only been two women in Chase’s life who truly meant something to him, who made him want to be a better man.

One of them lay beneath the headstone in front of him.

He exhaled heavily, his head still resting on her grave, and as he closed his eyes, he felt two trails of heat rush down his cheeks, a sharp contrast to the cold air.

Because as much as he wished it wasn’t true, he realized that the other was just as inaccessible.