She climbed the stairs to her apartment, the dream-like fuzziness increasing somewhat as she reached her door, and she giggled to herself as she stumbled backward a bit when she looked down to get her keys out of her purse. She rummaged through it, gently at first, and then with a touch of panic.
“Shit,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides and letting her head fall back. Of course tonight would be the night she’d leave her keys at the restaurant. Just as she was about to turn back toward the stairwell, she froze, remembering that she had placed her keys on the small table in the entryway as she ran back to her bedroom to grab a hair clip before she left for work.
And she never picked them back up.
She turned back toward her door and fell forward, thumping her forehead on it three times before she finally just left it pressed up against the wood. This was so unlike her. She never did irresponsible things like this. Ever since she had returned from Florida though, it seemed to be a common occurrence; she was scatterbrained, she would daydream at inappropriate times, she couldn’t write a thing to save her life, and she was constantly finding things about Colin that irritated her.
And then, of course, there was the reappearance of the dream.
She opened her eyes and rolled to the side so that her back was pressed up against the door, and she slid down the front of it until she was sitting on the floor. Tracey had a spare key, she remembered, but no sooner than that idea popped into her head, she dismissed it. She knew her friend, and she knew what she was doing right now. There was no way Tracey would answer her call. Nor would Andie want her to.
She rummaged through her purse and pulled out her phone, sending Tracey a text message instead, explaining the situation and asking her to call as soon as she could.
She could call Colin and sleep at his place tonight, she thought. But if she were being honest with herself, she didn’t want to. All she wanted at that moment was to be alone with her thoughts, in her bed, in her house.
She stared down at her phone, her thumbs running over the keypad, and then suddenly, they were moving.
Stupid Lemon Drops got me locked out of my apartment.
She sent the text before her hazy mind could even condone or object to what she had just done, and she rested her head back against the door, a tiny laugh bubbling out of her throat. She felt amazingly indifferent.
She had almost fallen asleep against the door when the sound of her phone ringing jolted her from her daze.
She fumbled with it for a second before she brought it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Lemon Drops, huh?” he asked, and Andie thought her heart might beat out of her chest. She sat up straight, her vision blurring for a moment before it righted itself.
“I didn’t think you were a fan of those,” Chase added.
“I wasn’t. I’m not,” she said, her voice quavering slightly.
“Can I ask how they got you locked out of your apartment?”
“I forgot to take my keys with me when I left for work tonight.”
“Hmm,” Chase said. “Well, that could hardly have been the result of the shots you hadn’t taken yet, but it’s nice to have alcohol as a scapegoat for idiotic behavior, isn’t it?”
“Shut up,” she sighed, leaning back against the door and reaching up to play with the doorknob.
“Doesn’t anyone else have the key to your apartment?”
“My friend Tracey.”
“Well, did you call her?” he asked.
“She’s…occupied,” Andie said with a roll of her eyes, absently twisting the locked doorknob above her.
“Hmm, okay,” Chase said, his voice taking on a throaty caliber that caused a fluttering in Andie’s stomach. “Are there any windows you can climb in?”
“I’m on the second floor, remember? And they’re locked anyway.”
“Of course they are,” he said. “I forgot who I was talking to.”
“Oh, right,” Andie retorted, her hand falling sloppily from the doorknob, “because only anal-retentive people lock their homes when they leave them. Normal people leave their doors and windows wide open. With little neon signs on them that say ‘Drifters and Robbers Welcome.’”
“Drifters?” he asked through a laugh. “Are they an ongoing problem in your complex?”
Andie pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “I hate you,” she finally managed.
“Why don’t you just break in?”
“Break in?” she echoed incredulously. “What do you think I am?”
“It’s your own house!” he laughed. “Everyone’s done it at least once in their life. Use a credit card.”
“That only works in the movies,” she said, but she rolled awkwardly to the side and pulled herself up on her knees, examining the doorknob. Did she even have a credit card on her? At this point, she’d be willing to try anything. She just wanted her bed. She cocked her head to the side and held the phone with her shoulder, struggling to regain her balance before she started rummaging through her purse again. “Alright, I give,” she sighed. “How do you do this credit card thing?”
“Actually, I have a better idea,” she heard Chase say, although his voice sounded strange, almost like an echo. She went to switch her phone to the other ear, freezing when she saw something in her peripheral vision.
She slowly turned her head to the side, and her heart leapt into her throat.
Chase stood a few feet away, smirking down at her as he took the phone away from his ear and ended the call. “Look at you, you lush. You’re lucky I happened to be on my way past here. It’s a little cold tonight to sleep on your doormat.”
Andie sat frozen, her cell phone still to her ear, staring up at him.
He smiled. “You can hang up now.”
Andie blinked quickly, snapping herself out of it as she yanked the phone away from her ear, pressing four buttons before she hit the right one to end the call. “What are you doing here?” she finally managed, trying to sound composed.
Chase gestured toward her door. “Helping you.”
“No, I mean, what are you doing here?” she asked. “By my apartment?”
“My friend Benny runs a poker game once a month. He lives a few miles from here. I was just on my way home. Lucky for you.” The touch of condescension in his tone reminded Andie of their first encounter in Justin’s basement, and it made her blood race in her veins all over again, only this time for a different reason.
He approached her, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out some metal object that looked like a cross between a long needle and a pair of pliers. He stopped in front of her, and she stared up at him, not knowing what to say next. He quirked his brow, the smile returning.
“Oh! Sorry,” Andie said, scooting awkwardly to the side and giving him access to the door. He laughed, squatting down next to her, running the tip of his finger over the front of the lock and leaning in to examine it.
Andie stared at his profile: the angle of his jaw, the sexy tousle of his hair. Her inhibitions were growing as fuzzy as her vision.
Chase glanced over at her. “So here we are again. You, me, and a locked door,” he said with a smile that caused Andie’s stomach to turn somersaults.
“Do you realize how shady it is that you drive around with a device used to break into people’s houses?” she blurted out, and he laughed before he turned his attention back to the lock.
“The lock on my apartment is a bit…temperamental,” he said, inserting the long end of the tool into the keyhole. “After dismantling my door a bunch of times, I finally realized it’s just easier to own one of these.” He nodded toward the tool in his hand as he brought his other hand to the knob, holding it steady as he rolled his wrist slightly, maneuvering the needle-like end in the tiny hole.