A Second Time Around

Chapter Sixteen

"Andrew!" Stacey said, too shocked to realize that she called him by his first name. "Hello, hi—how are you? I mean—I—that is—" she spluttered.

He blinked three times before raising a brow—a perfect brown-colored eyebrow, by the way. "Well, you coming in or not?"

"Oh, I'd love to!" she squeaked, wincing internally on how her voice sounded. "It's just—I'm just—"

"Just what?" Andrew asked, a trifle impatiently. "You'd rather wait out this rain, woman?"

"I'm wet." She said, looking down her clothes as if it should be obvious—as it really should!

Andrew rolled his eyes. It's the first time Stacey saw him do so, and she must say that he did it rather splendidly. "So?" he asked. "I'm more concerned of you catching cold than you wetting my car seats. If Diane sees you like this, she will surely find a way to twist all this around and blame me, and then where would we be?"

"But—"

"Don't let me get out of this car and haul you in myself." He warned. "I assure you it won't be pretty."

Left with no other choice, Stacey opened the passenger side door and scrambled in.

As soon as she's settled, she shivered yet again. Should a car air-con be this cold?

"Oh, I'm sorry about that." He spoke again and turned the air-con's temperature higher. He then leaned nearer to her as he took something from the back seat. Stacey caught a whiff of his Dior cologne. She inhaled deeply, and took advantage of his preoccupation to study his profile. No man should be this handsome, she thought. She longed to run her hands through his light brown hair, curious to find out if it is as soft as it looks.

He extracted a white, fluffy towel and handed it to her. "Here," he said. "Make yourself dry."

She murmured her thanks and dried her hair first. "How come you keep a towel here?"

Andrew kept his eyes on the road as he answered her question. "That's Kevin's, actually. He asked me to keep it ready for him in case he needs it." At her quizzical expression, he laughed. "Don't ask, even I don't know."

Stacey laughed along with him. There's something pleasant with the way her laugh synchronized with his. Her laugh made his more melodious, musical even, he thought. There's also something fetching with the way she looks, her head thrown back because of mirth and covered in a thick, fluffy towel. Leaning slightly, he could see drops of water on her beautifully long eyelashes, her sea-green eyes bright with laughter. Looking like this, Anastasia Hampton is Unforgettable. It made Andrew wish that he has a camera ready to snap a picture of her. The one downer in the entire picture is that her chestnut hair was hidden beneath the towel. His hands itched to yank the towel away.

He was already lifting a hand from the wheel to do exactly that, when Andrew finally realized the strangeness of what he was about to do. He shook his head slightly to clear his mind, and then he cleared his throat.

"So, enlighten me." Andrew said suddenly after a few minutes of silence.

"What?" she asked, still in a good mood.

"What sort of thinking got into your head and went head-first into the rain?" he inquired.

"Well, I wasn't thinking—"

"Clearly." He muttered as he drove through the highway.

"Hey, I heard that!" she cried. "And I didn't launch myself into the rain on purpose. I forgot to bring my umbrella."