He smiled at her. “Hi, gorgeous.” He kissed her cheek before she could create distance. “You look stunning, as always.”
She swallowed, her heart picking up a fast rhythm she had no hope of tamping down. “Thank you. Won’t you come in?”
“Hey,” Gray said as he came into the foyer. “I’m glad we got a chance to meet up before Evelyn and I have to leave the city.”
They shook hands. “Me, too,” Drew said. “Congratulations on the championship. You kicked serious ass, especially on that last race.”
“Thanks.”
Drew took a seat.
“Can I fix you something to drink, Drew?”
He smiled up at Carolina. “A beer would be great, if you have one.”
She went to the bar and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, then brought it back to him.
“Thanks. So tell me about your fashion design. What’s going on?”
She took a seat in the chair across from him. “I left the designer I was working with and I’m starting my own line.”
His brows rose. “Big move for you.”
“Yes. But I felt if I didn’t make the move now, while I had all this inspiration, I might never do it.”
His gaze never wavered from hers. “Yeah? So tell me what’s inspiring you, Lina.”
His nickname for her never failed to make butterflies dance in her stomach. Or infuriate her, reminding her the way that nickname sailed from his lips that one night they’d spent together. That one and only night, before he’d walked out of her life as if she’d never existed. As if what they’d shared had never meant anything.
Because it hadn’t. Not to Drew, anyway.
But that was a long time ago, and she was a lot smarter now. She gave him a cursory overview, telling him much the same thing she’d told Gray and Evelyn.
“So . . . clothes. Sounds fun. And you want me to model some of those for you?”
“Yes. Sort of. But you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I’m sure you’re busy with hockey season gearing up. I can find someone else.”
His lips curved into a smile that made her pulse dance. “Trying to get rid of me before we even get started?”
“No. I’m just giving you an out if you want one. Not a lot of sports figures enjoy modeling clothes. And this would require print ads, as well as runway.”
He took a long swallow of beer, then shrugged. “I’m game. I figure I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me a thing, Drew.”
“Then I’ll do it for the fun. And hey, if your fashion stuff is successful, it’ll draw attention to me and to the team, and that’s good for hockey, right?”
“That’s the way I’m looking at it, too,” Gray said.
“Speaking of exposure,” Evelyn said, standing, “the vice president has a meeting I need to be present for. We need to get going.”
Carolina laughed. “Give Dad a hug for me and tell him I’ll see him soon.”
She walked Gray and Evelyn to the door. “Thanks for stopping by. I’m sorry we couldn’t spend more time together.”
“We’ll see you at Christmas, for sure,” Gray said, giving her a pointed look that told her he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Right?”
“Definitely. I should have a lot more work done by then, and I’ll need to take a breather. I promise not to miss Christmas.”
After hugging them both, she shut the door and headed back into the living room.
“Well, thanks for agreeing to help me out.” She hoped he saw that as a sign that their meeting was over.
Drew stood. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No. I’ve had a busy day.”
“Then let me take you out to eat.”
“I have an even busier night ahead of me. There’s a lot to do to get this line ready, and not nearly enough hours in the day.”
“Then we’ll order pizza. Or Chinese. I’m hungry.”
Obviously, he wasn’t grabbing a clue that she was trying to get rid of him. “Fine. We’ll have something to eat. Then you need to leave.”
“Sure.”
And she’d count every second until Drew was out the door, because having him in her apartment was disconcerting.
She had no idea why she’d allowed this, when he was the one man she didn’t want to see or spend any time with. Instead, he was sprawled on her living room sofa, his long, lean body looking incongruous on her short, white designer sofa.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her phone.
“Chinese or pizza?”
“Either one is fine with me. I’m just hungry.”
She punched in the number of her favorite take-out Chinese place and called in an order. They delivered faster than the pizza place, so she’d get Drew out of her apartment that much sooner.
She went back into the living room to find him outside on her balcony. She poured a refill on her wine and wandered out there. It was cool outside, but not unbearable. He was looking out over Central Park.
“Nice place, Lina.”
Cringing at his use of the nickname, she stepped up beside him. “I love it here.”
“I can see why.”
“Where do you live?”
“I’ve got a place over on the Upper West Side.”
She turned to face him. “I didn’t know you lived here.”
He gave her a smile. “I do play here, remember?”
He did. She just tried her best to forget that. “Of course.”
“I only live here during the season. During the off-season I take off and head back home to Oklahoma.”
“That’s nice. Do your parents still live there?”
“Yeah, but it’s not like I live with them. I’m a big boy now, babe.”
Again with an endearment. “I’m not your babe. I never was.”
He laid his beer on the table and turned around. “Still mad at me about that night, Lina?”
“It’s Carolina. And no, I’m not angry at all. I’ve never given it another thought.”
“I’m sure you haven’t. Because that would mean what happened between us mattered. And we both know it didn’t. Right?”
He’d taken a step forward, getting into her personal space.
“Or did it matter?” he asked, his voice going low and soft as he swept one of her curls behind her ear.
She shuddered, as always, lost in the stormy gray depth of his eyes.
He’d always been able to do this to her, to make her forget her resolve and turn her into the inept college girl she’d been all those years ago.
The doorbell rang, and Drew took a step back. Carolina pivoted and went inside to answer the door. Drew was right behind her, surprising her.
“I’ll take care of this,” he said, his wallet already open as he paid for the food and tipped the delivery guy.
“I could have done that,” she said, following behind him after she shut the door.
“I know you could have, but since I’m the one who insisted on dinner, I figured I should be the one to pay.”
“Fine. Let’s eat.” She was starting the countdown. Fifteen minutes for food and conversation, another fifteen for after-dinner talk, then he was gone.
She grabbed plates and laid out the cartons of food on her table. Drew had gone out to the balcony to grab his beer.
“Can I fix you something to drink?” he asked, obviously comfortable enough to open her cabinets and grab himself a glass.
“I’ll just have a glass of water.”
He ended up taking down two glasses. “I’ll take care of that for you.”
She didn’t want him to be nice. She wanted to think about him as he’d been in the past, like that night in college when he’d slept with her and dumped her the next day, effectively ruining her girlish fantasies about him.
But that was in the past. She was a grown-up and a lot of time had passed.
She was over it. Over him.
Right?
Except he was even more gorgeous now than he’d been in college. He’d filled out in places, slimmed down in others. He still wore his hair a little long and shaggy, which she found irresistibly appealing. His cheeks were more chiseled now, his jaw more angular, making her focus on those spectacularly sexy eyes of his that had always drawn her to him. Eyes that right now were zeroed in on her like a hawk zeroed in on its prey.
Yeah. Not gonna happen.
So instead, she scooped some chicken teriyaki and sesame noodles onto her plate, concentrating on the food instead of Drew.
“So what made you decide to launch your own line?” he asked as he lifted a forkful of rice up to his mouth.
Which of course made her raise her head just as he closed his mouth over the fork, which made her focus on his lips. Drew had very full lips, and despite all the years that had passed since—since they’d been intimate, she could still remember what it felt like when his mouth had pressed against the side of her neck, and what he had tasted like, and how gentle he’d been with her, since it had been her first time.
She’d lost herself in that night, that only night with him. And it had taken a goddamned eternity to get over him.
“Carolina.”
She jerked her head up. “What?”
He smiled at her. “What made you decide to launch your own line now?”
“Oh.” That’s right. He’d asked her that question and she’d zoned out, slipping into the past so easily, like she always did whenever he was near. “I couldn’t handle working for David Faber any longer.”
“What didn’t you like about working for him?”
After swallowing, she took a sip of water and laid her fork down. “Where to start? He’s demanding, which I can handle. Designers often are. The difference with David is that he’s high-strung all the time, which creates such a nerve-racking workplace. And he’s such a jealous bitch, treating his designers like slaves, refusing to let them provide any input. It was stifling working for him, which was why I accelerated my move to designing my own line. If he’d once taken any of my suggestions rather than treating me like nothing more than a seamstress, I might have stayed with him, because the man is truly brilliant. But he’s so neurotic and so afraid someone’s going to steal his designs, he’s impossible to work with.”
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