About ten minutes later her dinner arrived, and she sat up against the headboard, her salad balanced delicately on her thighs as she stared without seeing at the game, sipping her wine, her mind a million miles away from first downs and extra points.

Somewhere around the start of the fourth quarter, Andie showered, changed into her pajamas, and brushed her teeth before settling under the covers next to Colin. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep before she felt him snuggle up behind her, pressing the length of his body against the back of hers. His hand came to her hip, squeezing it gently, and as he nuzzled her hair, his breath fanned hot across the back of her neck.

She knew what would happen next. She could script it. He would start by kissing her neck, and when she began to respond, his hand would move from her hip to her lower stomach, sliding up the length of her abdomen until he reached her breasts. He would spend some time there, first with his hands, and then with his mouth, before his hand made its way back down her body and settled between her legs. And after she climaxed, he would make love to her, beginning below her but ending on top of her. And then she’d rest her head on his chest, and he’d wrap his arm around her shoulder, and they’d fall asleep.

Yes, with Colin, she always knew exactly what to expect.

And for the first time in their relationship, she suddenly found herself wishing she didn’t.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Another?” the bartender asked, and Chase turned his attention to the man standing behind the bar.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Seven and Seven, right?” the man asked, reaching for Chase’s empty glass.

“Yeah,” he said, watching the bartender begin to mix the third one Chase had consumed in the past hour. He knew he should probably slow down, but he needed something to keep him occupied. Certainly nothing else so far that night had succeeded in doing so. Not the ceremony. Not the onslaught of people he had talked with and been introduced to since the reception began. Not the music blasting from the DJ’s booth or the dance floor full of people. Nothing could keep his attention for long. He’d be in the middle of a conversation with someone, laughing and having a good time, and without his permission, his eyes would begin to wander, combing through the crowd until he found her. There had to be over three hundred people in the room, and yet it would only take him seconds to do it. Every time. Like she was some sort of goddamned beacon.

They hadn’t spoken to each other at all that day, although they had made eye contact several times during the ceremony and a few times since the reception began. Whenever it happened, one of them would smile or hold up a hand in greeting, and the other would follow suit, but Chase could see there was a slight uneasiness in her actions. What was worse, though, was that he could feel the same awkwardness in his own, and it drove him crazy. He didn’t want things to be uncomfortable between them again, yet he felt himself contributing to it.

The bartender placed his drink down in front of him, and Chase tossed a tip on the bar as he picked it up and took a slow sip, turning to face the room full of people.

And there she was, talking with one of the bridesmaids by a table near the balcony on the other side of the room. He hadn’t even been trying that time. At least not consciously.

Ever since that moment on Tybee Island, when he had asked her what would make her happy, the dynamic between them had changed. That was the moment things stopped being innocent, the moment his conscience took a backseat and it was just the two of them, just Andie and Chase and the palpable, rousing tension between them, charged with inaccessible possibilities. At least, that’s how it had been for him. He had no idea what she had been thinking.

But then she lied.

She told Colin they’d be late because they were stuck in traffic, and he knew then that she was feeling what he was, at least on some level.

It was all so fucking wrong.

Chase took another long swallow of his drink, trying to focus on the swaying bodies littering the dance floor. All night long he’d been holding on to the notion that at some point in every guy’s life, he’s been guilty of looking at a friend’s girl and thinking things that were less than appropriate. He could be a good guy, he could be a good friend, but when it came down to it, guys were guys, and shit happens. The subconscious is an impossible thing to control. A guy wasn’t considered an asshole unless he acted on those involuntary thoughts.

Chase brought his drink to his lips again, shaking his head, because as much as he wanted to rationalize what was happening, the truth was, his thoughts weren’t involuntary. They weren’t even superficial, run-of-the-mill sexual musings.

They were so much worse than that.

It wasn’t like he found himself wondering what she looked like naked, or whether or not she gave good head. No, he would think about what it would feel like to run his palms over every inch of her, and whether or not the rest of her was as soft as her hands. He would imagine pressing his face into the side of her neck, or burying his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent that made him feel like he was turning inside out. He would think about making her laugh, the musical cadence of it, or the way she would feel pressed up against him as they lay in bed together watching some juvenile movie. He’d imagine skinny-dipping with her in some remote, clandestine pond, or cooking breakfast with her, side by side, Andie wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts, her hair up in that sloppy bun that managed to make her look innocent and sexy at the same time.

Chase squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He would have felt better about himself if he’d had fantasies of fucking her in the coat closet and never calling her again.

“Ladies and gentleman,” the DJ said over the microphone, and Chase opened his eyes and turned his head in his direction. “At this time, we’d like to ask Justin and Stella and their bridal party to step out onto the terrace for a few photos.”

Chase turned his attention back to the other side of the room where Colin was now approaching Andie. He kissed her on the cheek as he passed, making his way toward the terrace doors, and the bridesmaid that Andie had been talking to handed off her drink as she followed Colin outside. Andie turned then, taking a delicate sip of her wine as her eyes scanned the dance floor, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was briefly overcome with the hope that she was looking for him.

She took a few steps over to her table, placing her friend’s drink on it before she sat down, trailing the tip of her finger along the rim of her own wine glass as she watched the people moving on the dance floor. She crossed her legs then, and the slit in her dress parted to reveal the length of one leg, from toe to mid-thigh.

Chase closed his eyes before turning toward the bartender. “Can I get a shot of Johnnie Walker?”

“You got it, pal,” he said with a wary look, bending to reach below the bar, and Chase turned his eyes back to the other side of the room as he finished his drink. That fucking dress. He could barely stand it before he realized it had a slit as long as her leg up the side. He didn’t know anything about dresses, or fashion at all for that matter, but this dress was deep green and looked like it was made of some type of silk. Every goddamn curve of her body looked softer and fuller in this thing. And when she had turned to leave the ceremony earlier that night, he nearly choked on his gum when he saw that her entire back was exposed.