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, running the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “Well, if writing is what you want to do, then why not apply to some magazines, or a local newspaper?”
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.
He never meant to invade her privacy that night in South Carolina, but once he started reading, he couldn’t stop. Her words manipulated him, drawing him in and pushing him away, intriguing him, riveting him, enticing him. He knew on some level that he was