swung open, and his mind went completely blank, save for one word.
Shit.
“Hi,” she said with a small, tentative smile. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but a few wispy strands had fallen free and were framing her face.
This was supposed to be the moment he realized he had blown this girl way out of proportion, that his memory had embellished her appeal.
But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.
“Andie. Good to see you again,” he finally said, and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw the slight flush color her cheeks.
She nodded, the same tight smile in place as she turned and walked into the apartment. His eyes dropped of their own volition, admiring the way her ass looked in the cotton yoga pants she was wearing.
“I’ll be ready in two minutes,” she said, turning her head over her shoulder, and Chase ripped his eyes away from her body and back up to her face just in time. She walked behind the tiny island in the kitchen and lifted a mug. Just as it touched her lips, she froze, looking at him over the top of it.
She brought it down slowly. “Um, do you want some coffee?”
“Fuck yes,” he exhaled, and he saw the tiny crease form between her brow as the corners of her mouth turned down. She turned to open the cabinet.
“I’m not really a morning person,” he offered as he put his bags down by the door and walked toward the kitchen. She gave him no reaction, her eyes trained on the mug as she poured the coffee.
“Cream? Sugar?” she asked, still not looking at him.
“Black is fine.”
She handed him the mug and picked up her own in one movement, walking out of the kitchen and leaving him standing there alone.
He turned and leaned back against the island as he sipped his coffee, his eyes combing her apartment. Immaculate. That was the one word that kept coming to mind. Nothing out of place, everything spotless. The wood floor of her living room was shining, like a goddamn commercial. Her walls were decorated with photographs and little fancy shelves that held a bunch of candles and other useless girly crap. An upright piano made of gleaming mahogany stood against the far wall. And her couches were white. He laughed to himself, thinking of how long a white couch would survive in his apartment. Shit, he could even see himself in the countertop, he noticed, as he turned to put the mug down.
A bustling sound caught his attention, and he looked up, watching her come out from what he assumed was her bedroom with her bags. Her expression was passive, her eyes downcast.
“You know what this place needs?” he said, lifting his mug and taking another sip.
She placed one of her bags down on the coffee table and began rummaging through it. “No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” she deadpanned, still not looking at him.
“It needs some life.”
She froze, forgetting for the moment about whatever it was she was looking for, and lifted her eyes, looking up at him from under her lashes. And God help him, when he saw the fire behind them, the same one he remembered from the cellar, he couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face.
“What, do you moonlight as an interior decorator?” she asked, her tone curt as she looked back down and continued searching through her bag.
“Hardly,” he said through his smile. “I’m just saying. This place is just so…pristine. It doesn’t even look lived in. How do you accomplish that? You’re here every day, but there’s no trace of you at all.”
She straightened the contents of the bag before roughly zipping it closed. “Some things don’t change, I see,” she mumbled under her breath as she picked up the bag and swung it over her shoulder.
“Pardon?” he asked, even though he had heard her clearly.
She looked up and forced a tiny smile. “Nothing. Are you ready?”
He nodded, taking down the rest of his coffee. He went to place the empty mug on the counter, and before it even made contact, it was out of his hand. He watched her quickly wash both of their mugs and put them back in the cabinet before drying her hands on a dishtowel. She walked back into the living room and grabbed her bags, gesturing for him to go before her.
Chase stepped outside and waited while she locked up, admiring the tone of her arms as she juggled her bags