Melting the Ice

by Jaci Burton

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 presse
d 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."

  Drew studied her. "Hard to work in an environment where your contributions aren't appreciated."

  And just like that, he'd nailed it, when she'd thought for sure he'd just nod and say "uh-huh" or something like that. "Yes, it was. Not that I expected to take over or anything, but I had good ideas, dammit. Ideas that would have helped his line. Not myself, but him."

  "I understand. And it's his loss, isn't it? Because you're going to create your own line now and kick his ass."

  Admittedly, she was shocked by the compliment. "I don't know about that. But taking that step was freeing in a way I never thought it would be. At least initially."

  "And now you're nervous because you're on your own now and you don't know if you'll succeed."

  He was also annoyingly keen at identifying her biggest worry. "Maybe."

  "Don't be worried. You'll be great."

  She pushed her half-empty plate to the side. "How can you be so confident, when you know nothing about me?"

  "Easy," he said, standing and moving into the living room, where she'd shoved her sketches onto one of the side tables. He picked them up. "This. And this. They're good, Lina."

  She took a deep breath as his gaze caught and held hers. "You're hardly knowledgeable about fashion, Drew."

  "Maybe not. But I know what looks good on a woman. You've always dressed well. I think you have a keen eye for what makes a woman feel great about herself. And I'd bet you could do the same for a man. You've never lacked for confidence." He gave her a wicked grin. "Hell, you even threw yourself at me back in college."

  Ugh. She couldn't believe he'd brought that up. "Don't remind me."

  He came back into the kitchen. "Do you know how much courage that took? It was a huge turn-on, and it showed me how ballsy you were. You were just a girl back then. You're a woman now. I don't think anything can stop you from having whatever you want." He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, forcing her to meet his gaze again.

  She lifted her eyes to his and, with him so close, the heat that always seemed to emanate from him surrounded her, enveloping her in a haze of not-so-forgotten lust and longing.

  "That's a nice thing to say." He'd always said nice things to her--when he wanted something. Which made her wonder exactly what it was that he wanted now.

  She studied him, the woman she was now not nearly as naive as the young girl she'd been back then.

  "Exactly what are you after here, Drew? A repeat performance from college?" She pushed her chair back and stood, creating distance between the two of them. "Because if you are, I can assure you it's not going to happen."

  She made sure to keep eye contact with him, so he understood clearly her meaning. "Never again. Ever."

  TWO

  DREW FOUGHT THE URGE TO SMILE AT THE LOOK Carolina gave him. Man, she was fierce and determined to not show that she gave a shit about him, while her body and her eyes betrayed her, just like they had back in college.

  If there was one thing he could do and do well, it was read a woman's body language, and Carolina was all tight with tension and nerves. She always had been around him.

  And he'd been a class-A douchebag back then, had taken advantage of a young woman who'd had an obvious crush on him, had used her and discarded her in the dickhead way young guys did. He still felt like shit about it all these years later.

  "I'm not here to seduce you, Lina," he said, though when he'd walked through her front door and seen her again, she still managed to gut punch him like she always had. She was even more beautiful now than she'd been back then. Her light brown hair was cut chin-length and framed her face, and her stunningly sharp blue eyes, as always, just about struck him dead.

  "I can't believe you agreed to do this. It doesn't seem like it's something you'd be remotely interested in doing."

  He caught the edge of anger in her voice. "How would you even know what interests me? Maybe I like fashion."

  She let out a snort. "I highly doubt that. You seem more like the bar-brawling, beer-swilling, sweatshirt-with-a-logo-on-it-wearing, sports-watching type to me."

  "Hmmm. I have been guilty of all those things. But I also like to dress well. See, you don't know me at all, Lina."

  She looked away. "Stop calling me that."

  "Why?"

  "Because it's not my name."

  He moved closer, breathing in the subtle scent of her perfume. "Because it reminds you of that night."

  She stepped away. "No, it doesn't." She lifted her head and gave him a look that showed her pain. "You're trying to piss me off."

  Now it was him who took a step back. "No. I'm really not. I just want to be friends."

  She laughed. "We can't be friends, Drew."

  Maybe she hated him because of what he'd done. He'd always managed to stay friends with the women he slept with. He was nice to them and never lied to them. He never made promises he didn't intend to keep. Hell, he never made promises. He'd never promised Carolina anything that night, either. But maybe she'd heard something he hadn't said. Or maybe he'd said something that night he couldn't recall saying.

  "This isn't a good idea." She closed up the boxes of food.

  He stopped her, laying his hand over hers and forcing her to turn and look at him. "What's not a good idea?"

  "This. You and me."

  "Working together?"

  "Anything . . . together."

  "Come on, Li--Carolina. You need this for your work, right?"

  She shrugged. "I can get models."

  "Oh, but you need me. I'm a hot commodity."

  She shot a look at him. "Modest as always, aren't you, Drew?"

  "Well, you know me."

  "Yes, I do know you."

  He figured if he could joke with her, tease her like he'd always done, she'd snap out of this sad, reflective mood. Mad Carolina he could deal with. The sad one he couldn't handle.

  "Come on. It'll be just like old times. Only you get to tell me what to do. You can even be mean to me. It'll be like payback. Think of all the fun you'll have ordering me around."

  She straightened and cocked a brow. "Why do you want to help me? Surely you have better things to do with your time. Like playing a hockey game, or picking up some woman."

  "Not really. Annoying you has always been one of my favorite things to do."

  "Yes. I remember that well."

  "Think of it as a nostalgia trip, then. And besides, I come cheap. I won't even charge you for my time, seeing how I'll get all that free publicity."

  "How generous of you."

  "I know, right?"

  She took a deep breath and let it out. "Fine. We'll do this."

  "Great."

  "And can you get
me tickets to see some of your games?"

  Now it was his turn to give her the once-over. "I didn't know you liked hockey."

  "Now who doesn't know much about whom? I actually do like hockey, Drew. Plus I want to study your lines while you skate."

  "Huh. Okay, sure. There's a preseason game tomorrow night against Denver. Do you want to come to that one?"

  "Tomorrow night? Let me check my calendar." She went over to her desk and grabbed her phone, doing some scrolling with her thumb. "What time is the game?"

  "Seven thirty."

  "Yes. That'll work. I should be finished up by then."

  "Okay. I'll have a ticket set aside for you. Are you going to bring someone?"

  She looked up from her phone. "No. It'll just be me."

  "You can pick up the ticket at the box office. Just give them your name."

  "Thanks. This will really help with my designs."

  "Anytime."

  She looked around. He hated to admit he found her discomfort amusing, but he did. If she was uncomfortable, then it meant she felt something. And he wanted her to feel something.

  For him. About him.

  "So . . . you'd like me to leave."

  She lifted her gaze to his. "I didn't say that, but I do have work."

  He stepped over to her, deliberately getting close. "You should just say what's on your mind, Carolina."

  She didn't say anything, but her eyes said it all. Confusion, that slight irritation that always made him smile, and then her eyes darkened, a flash of desire she tried to hide before she moved away.

  But he'd seen it, and it made him tighten.

  He took a deep breath. "Hey, I can take a hint." He grabbed his jacket and put it on.

  "Thanks for coming over," she said as she walked him to the door.

  "I'll see you tomorrow night at the game."

  "Sure." She held on to the door and gave him a stiff smile. "Good night, Drew."

  "Night, Carolina." Before she could shut the door in his face, he brushed a brief, soft kiss across her lips, taking in her slight gasp of surprise. "Don't work too hard."

  He turned and walked away and she shut the door.

  He smiled as he pushed the elevator button.

  Yeah, he got to her. Surprisingly, she got to him, too. He'd always enjoyed teasing her. After all, she was Gray's little sister. Until she'd become more than that in one night that had rocked his world.

  She'd thought he'd walked away as if she hadn't meant anything.

  But she'd meant a lot more to him than she would ever know. And that had scared the shit out of him. That one night with her had brought out feelings he hadn't been ready to deal with. Not when he'd had a new career ahead of him and his entire life had been about to change. He couldn't have handled falling in love all those years ago.