I’m not doing anything wrong. I have no reason to feel guilty, he assured himself as she eagerly removed his clothes.
And when he entered her right there on his couch, he closed his eyes, trying to drown out the overdone, porn-like sounds spilling from her mouth, the show she was putting on for him. He imagined that the hair splayed out over the cushions was blonde. That the fingernails digging into his back were Andie’s. He disappeared within himself, allowing his mind to revisit his fantasy from the bar, only this time, he allowed himself to feel it. Feel Andie beneath him, feel her breath on his neck, feel their bodies connecting over and over. It wasn’t long before he found himself on the brink, and he grit his teeth together to prevent the word from spilling from his mouth.
Andromeda.
Beautiful.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Andie stood behind the bar at her father’s restaurant, a clipboard in her hand as her eyes scanned the shelves of liquor.
“This is ass backward, you know,” Tracey said, twisting back and forth on her bar stool like a child as she sipped her Cosmo through a straw.
“What is?” Andie said, lifting her eyes for a moment.
“Isn’t the bar patron supposed to be the one spilling her guts? It’s rarely the bartender pouring her heart out.”
Andie leaned over the bar and playfully rapped her friend on the head with the clipboard. “First of all, I’m not tending bar, I’m doing inventory. And second of all, you’re the one milking me for information.”
Tracey smirked. “Yes, and I’ve clearly been twisting your arm. It’s been like pulling teeth getting you to talk about this Chase guy.”
“Shh!” Andie said, her eyes flitting nervously around the bar before she put down her clipboard and buried her face in her hands. It had been two weeks since she’d returned from Florida, two weeks since she’d seen or spoken to Chase, and although she hoped that time would erase the feeling she got in the pit of her stomach every time she thought of him, if anything, it had only made it worse.
She knew part of the reason she felt the way she did was because she’d had no closure. And on top of that, she hadn’t spoken a word about it to anyone, keeping what had happened, what she was feeling, to herself out of confusion and guilt. But it wasn’t going anywhere. She knew that now. And she realized the longer she let it go, the more it would fester.
She needed to tell someone.
So she called Tracey as the restaurant was about to close and asked her to stop by. It wasn’t unusual for her friend to come hang out at the bar while Andie was working. But this time, as soon as Tracey sat down, Andie unloaded, spilling the entire story, starting with their initial meeting at Justin’s engagement party over a year ago and ending with the abrupt way they had said good-bye in Florida. If anyone would give it to her straight, it would be Tracey. She was sure of that much. And maybe that’s all she’d need to purge him from her system—a good, strong dose of tough love.
“Why can’t I stop thinking of him?” Andie mumbled into her hands.
“Because you’re a red-blooded woman,” Tracey said, placing her drink on the bar and leaning in toward Andie. “Fantasies are healthy. You’re only freaking out because you’re so straight-laced all the time.”
Andie dropped her hands from her face, but her eyes remained downcast.
“I know, Andie,” Tracey said, suddenly sympathetic. “I know why you’re like that, as much as I make jokes. But the thing is, you’ve been that way for so long, and along comes this guy who rattles your cage.” She shrugged casually. “Of course that’s going to stick with you.”
“I love Colin,” she said firmly, as if she had to defend the notion. “So why can’t I get Chase out of my head?”
“Because you feel like it’s wrong, and so your subconscious is screwing with you. Which is also normal. Everyone wants what they can’t have. It’s like, a human condition or something,” Tracey said, leaning forward to sip her drink.
“Human condition,” Andie repeated softly, nodding her head, clinging to any explanation that would absolve her of her guilt.
“Think of it this way,” Tracey said, folding her arms on the bar and leaning in toward Andie. “Your brain is like a teenager from some tight-ass, super-strict upbringing who’s going away to college for the first time. You’ve kept a