Emancipating Andie by Priscilla Glenn Page A

wasn’t even sure why he’d asked in the first place, but her reaction only served to make him more curious. He felt like he had a pretty good handle on what turned her off.
    But he honestly had no idea what she was drawn to.
    “Why won’t you tell me?” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Is it sex stuff?”
    Andie’s cheeks went from pink to scarlet. “No!” she said abruptly, shaking her head. When the corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile, she added, “No, I mean, that’s fine. He’s fine. At that. God,” she groaned, dropping her face into her hands.
    He should have been trying to put her out of her misery, but he loved seeing her flustered. She was normally so poised, so self-assured. Watching her this way made her seem so unguarded.
    He felt like he was getting a glimpse at the real her.
    The waiter approached the table then, giving them their food and asking if they needed anything else. After they both declined, Chase turned toward the other end of the table and reached to grab the ketchup.
    “He makes me feel safe.”
    He froze with his hand on the bottle, looking over at her. Her eyes were on her plate as she pulled the excess lettuce off her sandwich.
    “He makes you feel safe?”
    She reached over and grabbed the salt, avoiding his eyes as sprinkled some on her French fries.
    Chase dropped his hand from the ketchup, turning to face her fully. “Do you live in a particularly rough neighborhood?”
    Andie shook her head gently. “Forget it,” she said under her breath, taking a bite of her sandwich and looking off toward the kitchen as she chewed delicately.
    He watched her for another second before he dropped his eyes, and then he grabbed the ketchup, absently shaking some on his burger. Of all the answers she could have given, he definitely hadn’t expected that . She certainly didn’t carry herself like someone who needed to be taken care of.
    Chase heard her clear her throat softly and he looked up. As her eyes met his, she forced a tiny smile. “Favorite food?”
    Under different circumstances, he would have refused to answer the question on the grounds that she hadn’t gotten a napkin ball in the cup, but she looked so desperate to move past that little moment that he played along.
    “Filet mignon.”
    Andie nodded. “Nice.”
    “Fantastic,” he corrected before taking a bite of his burger, and for a minute, they both chewed in silence.
    “Your turn,” she said.
    He felt his brow lift before he righted his expression. After his last question, he hadn’t expected her to want to play anymore. “Okay. Um, favorite…swear word?”
    She shook her head. “Don’t have one.”
    “Oh come on. There are so many great ones.”
    Andie shook her head again, and he said, “I mean, what’s better than a well-used fuck ?”
    Her eyes widened ever so slightly as she glanced around the nearby tables.
    “ Stop ,” she mouthed.
    Chase laughed softly as he cocked his head at her. “What’s your issue with swear words?” She shrugged. “I just think they’re unnecessary. And rude.”
    “Why are they rude?”
    She tilted her head. “Come on, Chase.”
    “I’m serious,” he said, leaning on the table with his forearms. “What makes them rude? Explain to me why poop is not a bad word, but shit is.”
    Andie’s lips twitched. “Poop?”
    Chase smirked before he said, “You know I’m right. They’re just two different words for the same thing. Why is one bad? I mean, if that’s the case, why isn’t porridge a bad word for oatmeal?”
    Andie blinked at him. “Shouldn’t we be passing a joint back and forth while having this conversation?”
    Chase burst out laughing, sitting back against the booth. “Do you have one?”
    “Not on me, I’m afraid,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
    He smiled as he shook his head, picking up his burger and taking another bite. “You know,” he said around his mouthful of food, “you didn’t answer that one, so technically, it should