"To make this deadline? Yes. So we can go back to the car now, and your conscience would be clear. You can hang out with your friends, and I'll go to work."
She pivoted, but Drew grasped her arm. "Not so fast."
She wanted to scream out her frustration. "What? Surely you haven't suddenly dredged up some long-lost Boy Scout sense of honor, have you?"
"No. But I did promise your mother. And besides, I agree with her. Gray and your mom both told me you've been working nonstop on launching your line for the past two years, even before you quit working for whatever-his-name-is designer."
"David Faber."
"Yeah, him. So is that true?"
She stopped, enjoying the feel of warm sunshine on her face, despite the chilly day. "Mostly."
"That probably explains why you're so cranky."
Her jaw dropped. "I'm cranky?"
"Sure you are. Because you're working all the time and you don't remember how to go out and have fun."
She wanted to kick him right in the balls. "I know how to have fun. I have fun all the time."
He led her up the stairs. "Yeah? What was the last fun thing you did?"
"I . . ." She stopped and thought. "I shopped for fabric."
He shook his head. "That's work-related. Something not related to your job. When was the last time you went to a club, or a movie, or to a friend's party? Or went out on a date."
She opened her mouth to give him an answer, then realized one didn't immediately come to mind. Okay, so she had been focusing a lot on work. But that was by choice, and sacrifices had to be made when the prize was her own fashion line. "I can't remember."
"Uh-huh. That's what I thought. And that's why you're cranky. You probably haven't gotten laid in at least a year."
She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with him. Besides, it was more like a year and a half, but she was not admitting that, especially not to Drew, the hot stud who probably got laid four times a week. "That's so not true."
He gave her a wry grin that spoke volumes about how he didn't believe her.
Damn him.
She thought they were going to stop at a bistro for some coffee and conversation, so when he took her to the ice rink, she stopped and tugged her hand from his.
"Oh, I don't think so."
"Why not? It'll be fun."
"Yeah, for you. You skate for a living. I haven't skated in a very long time."
"Come on. It's like riding a bike. You never forget how."
"Wanna bet?"
"You're chicken."
"I'm also not twelve. That ploy isn't going to work on me, Drew."
"Fine. You hang here. I'll skate."
Oh, sure. And he'd be mobbed by all the attractive women currently skating on the rink, and it would be college all over again.
No way.
"Okay, I'll do this. But no laughing when I fall on my ass."
"I don't intend to let you fall on your ass."
She followed him inside and they rented skates. The teenager working the counter recognized Drew immediately.
"You're Drew Hogan from the Travelers."
Drew gave the kid a wide smile. "I am." Drew looked at the kid's name tag. "And you're Justin."
Justin grinned. "So cool. And you're going to skate here?"
"I am." Drew paid and Justin reverently handed over the skates to Drew like they were a prized trophy.
Carolina rolled her eyes.
They headed to a locker and she took off her boots, grateful that she'd worn jeans today. Maybe they'd cushion her fall.
The walk on the carpeted area seemed easy enough, but she hadn't been lying to Drew when she'd told him it had been a really long time since she'd skated.
He took her hand and led her to the entrance of the rink.
"So how long has it been?"
She tried to recall the last time. She'd gone with a group of friends to a park rink. "Three years, maybe?"
"Not that long."
She slanted him a look. "An eternity."
He laughed. "We'll start out slow."
He stepped out onto the ice first, then flipped around and held his hands out.
She hesitated.
"I promise I won't let you fall, Carolina."
She was being ridiculous and she knew it. As she surveyed the rather thick crowd of skaters, several people slipped and fell, then laughed, got up, and tried again.
She had no idea why she was being such a baby about this.
Maybe because she'd humiliated herself once in front of Drew by getting drunk and throwing herself at him.
The ice was his home. This was where he was the most comfortable. The last thing she wanted to do was appear to be a novice.
Which she absolutely was.
She should have just stayed in the damn car.
Instead, she gripped his hands and took a tentative slide onto the ice. Her ankles wobbled and she fought for balance.
Drew was right there, wrapping his arm around her to hold her upright. "Take a deep breath and relax. I've got you. You're not gonna fall. Just listen to the sound of my voice."
Still holding on to her, he moved in front of her and tipped her chin up. "Don't look down at your skates. That'll screw up your balance. Look straight ahead. And don't forget, there's no way you'll fall, as long as I'm holding you, so just enjoy this, okay?"
He finished off with a confident smile. She nodded. "Okay."
"Then let's skate."
His calm assurance helped her focus. He moved beside her, his arm securely wrapped around her as he slowly skated forward while she tried to remember how to skate instead of walk.
In the beginning, Drew mainly dragged her along, but she realized she was never going to get proficient at this if she didn't at least try, so she moved her skates forward, and it all started coming back to her. It helped that Drew had a strong hold on her.
And he was right. With his firm grip on her she wasn't going to fall, so that gave her confidence to try. Soon muscle memory took over, and she remembered what it felt like to glide across the ice.
"Now you've got it. Just like that."
He was so patient with her, not once going too fast. And when she wobbled, he'd tighten his hold on her and slow things down.
After about twenty minutes she felt like she had a handle on it, so she pushed out, gripped his hand and separated them.
"You sure?"
"Yes. Just don't let go."
His gaze met hers. "I won't. I promise."
They made a full circle around the rink, and as she began to relax, she finally had a chance to look around at the other people. They had drawn a crowd of onlookers, both on the rink and those looking over it.
Or, rather, Drew had. It didn't surprise her that he had been recognized, especially on the ice.
And when a boy about eight years old skated up to them, Drew immediately pulled in close to her and came to a stop.
"Hey. You're Drew Hogan, forward for the Travelers."
Drew smiled at the boy. "I am. And what's your name?"
The boy revealed a gap-toothed smile. "I'm Henry. I live in Long Island, but we're here visiting my grandparents. They have an apartment here and we watched the parade and had turkey and dressing and cranberries and stuff."
Carolina looked up and saw people who had to be Henry's parents standing behind him, wide smiles on their faces. Drew noticed them, too, and gave them a wink.
"That sounds like a fun day, Henry. So, do you like hockey?"
"Yeah. A lot. The Travelers are my favorite team and you're my favorite player."
"Thanks."
"Hey, would you autograph my jersey? I wore it under my coat today."
"No kidding. Let's see it."
Henry unbuttoned his coat to show off the green and white colors of the Travelers jersey, and sure enough, there was Drew's number twenty-two jersey.
"Nice. And I just so happen to have my Sharpie with me." He opened his coat and pulled out his pen, wh
ich he'd used earlier today to sign autographs. He signed Henry's jersey with it, and Henry went wide-eyed.
"Wow, that's so cool. Wait'll my friends find out I met you. They won't even believe it."
"If your parents have a camera on them, we can take a picture."
"Really?" Henry asked.
"I can take a picture," Henry's mom said, pulling out her phone.
Drew kneeled next to Henry while his mom took the picture. Carolina wasn't sure if she'd ever seen a kid look happier.
After the family moved off, there was a surge of fans. Carolina made her way over to the side of the rink. Drew looked her way, but she nodded and waved, and he took the time to meet with all of them, sign some autographs and take pictures. She was certain his fans would have liked him to skate with them, but he finally excused himself and made his way back to her.
"Sorry about that."
"It's no problem. It's nice you take time with your fans."
"I forgot about it being Thanksgiving. I didn't even think about the possibility of the rink being so crowded. Or of being recognized."
"Please. You, on the ice? I think it was obvious."
He laughed. "Maybe so. Let's take another few turns before we hop off."
He slipped his arm around her and glided her around. By then, people were taking pictures of both of them, and a few of the kids skated nearby. Most hot athletes were chick magnets. Drew was definitely that, but he was also apparently a kid magnet, which he took in stride. He made sure to skate slow enough, and even held a little girl's hand as she floated up beside him, gave him a bright grin, and wobbled her way around the rink with them, her parents hovering in front of them snapping pictures the whole time. Drew chatted with the little girl the entire way.
Which didn't endear him to Carolina in the least.
Much.
By the time the break bell sounded, she was more than ready to get off the ice.
"How about some hot chocolate?" Drew asked.
"That sounds fabulous. My toes are cold and my legs feel like Jell-O."
He laughed. "We need to work on your skating endurance."
They removed their skates and headed upstairs. "Since it's highly unlikely I'll be ice skating regularly, I don't think I need to worry too much about building up my endurance."
Drew ordered two hot chocolates for them. "Oh, you never know. You might decide you love it."
"It's doubtful."
"What if I give you season hockey tickets?"
She cracked a smile. "First, thank you for the offer. I do enjoy hockey. Sadly, I won't have time to see all your games, because I'm kind of busy right now. And why would you do that?"
"Always nice to have someone you know in the stands."
She shook her head. "You need a girlfriend."
"I do, don't I? Care to apply for the job?"
She wasn't sure if he was teasing her or not. "Uh, no, thanks. I think that ship has sailed."
"Has it?" The way he looked at her melted the last of the ice on her formerly frozen toes. So direct, so purposeful, the way he had been that night so long ago. She might have been inebriated and she'd definitely consumed enough wine for liquid courage to embolden her to invite him to her place after the graduation party. But he'd latched onto her at the party and hadn't let go of her the rest of the night. He'd danced with her, had held her close, whispering in her ear about how beautiful she was, and how he'd asked himself why the two of them had never gotten together before that night.
And then he'd taken her back to the quiet of her dorm room when everyone else had been out partying . . .
"Carolina."
She lifted herself out of that trip to the past and met his gaze. "Yes?"
"You were off in a fog somewhere."
"Thinking about work."
"Time to go?"
"Yes, I think so." Before she did something foolish, like travel too far down that path of yesterday and fall down the rabbit hole again.
With Drew right beside her.
Which would be a huge, huge mistake.
SIX
DREW WATCHED THE PLAY OF EMOTIONS CROSS Carolina's face as they climbed into the car. One of the things he'd always liked most about her was how smart she was, how she was more than what you saw on the surface. In college, he'd often run into her on the quad, and she was always sketching, or had her nose in a book.
Beautiful women were a dime a dozen. He knew, because he'd had plenty of them chasing him through college. But try to have a meaningful conversation with some of them and it was like coming up against a brick wall. A lot of them wanted to get their hands in his pants, and hey, as a young stud, he'd let them. But after you got out of bed, you had to have something to talk about besides where the next party was.
A beautiful, intelligent woman? Now that was something special.
He'd always kept his distance from Carolina because she was Gray's little sister, and that had made her off-limits.
Until the night of graduation, when he'd had a little too much to drink--okay, he'd had a lot to drink. And Carolina had given him an invitation that had been too hard to resist. He'd forgotten all about her being his best friend's sister then.
He hadn't known then that she'd never been with a guy before. He figured as beautiful and as smart as she was, that she'd had a boyfriend or two.
Stupid move on his part, but he couldn't say he regretted being her first. He'd only regretted turning tail and running after that. One of the most cowardly moves he'd ever made.
Now that he'd run into her again, this was his chance to maybe do it all over--the right way this time.
When they pulled up to her apartment, she turned to him. "Thanks for the ride."
"You're welcome. Thanks for coming along to help today."
She got out, and so did Drew.
"What are you doing?" she asked as he moved in step beside her.
"Walking you up."
"Again, this is not necessary."
"Do we have to have this conversation again? I'm walking you to your door, and you know why."
He could tell she was bugged that he walked with her to her door. Admittedly, he enjoyed this aspect of annoying her, liked seeing the high rise of color to her cheeks.
She fished her keys out of her bag, then whipped around with her back to the door. "Thanks for taking me ice skating."
"You're welcome."
She was guarding the door like a wolf protecting her young. In other words, she wasn't going to invite him inside.
Good thing he enjoyed a challenge, because he'd promised her mom and Gray that he wouldn't let Carolina work today.
"How about you show me what you're working on?"
"How about you let me actually get some work done?"
"I'd like to see what your plans are for me."
She arched a brow. "Why?"
He laughed. "What do you mean, why? Because if I'm going to be involved in this line, I'd like to know what it's about."
"You saw some of the sketches."
"Not all of them. Show me what you have in mind."
With a resigned sigh, she turned around and unlocked the door.
"If I show you the line, then you'll take off, right?" she asked as she stepped inside.
He followed her in. "Absolutely." Not.
"Okay."
"Have I mentioned how much I like your place?" he said as he shrugged off his coat.
"No, you haven't, but thank you. I like it, too. Good thing, since I spend so much time here."
"So you're a hermit."
She laughed. "Sort of. Designers don't exactly get out much."
"I'll have to change that."
"Uh, no, you won't. Not if I want to be able to show my work for Fashion Week." She went to the kitchen and put on the teakettle. She automatically went to her coffeemaker and added water, then turned it on.
He smiled. It meant she was thinking of him. He liked that.
She handed him a cup and took her own
.
"Come on up to the workroom with me."
Her apartment had a loft, so he followed her up the stairs. Here, it was open, with a wide floor-to-ceiling window. Lots of white, from a wall-to-wall desk to a drafting table and a bulletin board that covered one entire side of the room. Tacked onto the bulletin board were sketches of clothes. All different kinds, from men's to women's, fancy attire to casual. On the desk were more sketches, but all in order, like Carolina had placed them that way.
"You do it all on paper?"
"It starts that way. My mind works best in freehand. Then I transfer each sketch to a digital notepad so I can add color and refine the shape."
"Show me how you do that."
She sat at the table. "For example, when I went to the game the other night, I did this sketch." She pulled out one of the sketches of him skating. "I liked the movement, the fluidity of it. It made me aware of a man's body. The way a man is in motion."
She turned on her notepad and scrolled through several designs. One was a suit, another slacks and a long-sleeved shirt, another casual wear. Different colors, patterns, and styles, each more impressive than the last.
"You got all these from going to a hockey game?"
She looked up at him. "Inspiration comes from amazing places."
"Do you show these to anyone?"
"Only my assistants who are helping me create the line."
His lips curved. She frowned.
"So why show me?"
"I . . . don't know. Because you asked, I guess."
"Thanks. Your process is fascinating to me."
She pushed up and he straightened. Drew walked along and stared at each sketch, Carolina staying right by his side as he perused each one.
He looked to her as he reached out for one. "Is it okay if I touch?"
"Yes."
He picked it up and studied it, a penciled drawing of a man wearing casual attire. Workout pants, a henley, and tennis shoes. He looked relaxed, dressed in something Drew would wear on a weekend.
He tilted his head to look at Carolina. "I like this."
"Really?" She worried her lower lip, which pulled Drew's attention to her mouth.
"Yes. I'd wear it."
"Are you just saying that so you don't hurt my feelings?"
He laid the drawing down. "I don't say what I don't mean, Carolina. The reason I picked it up was that it caught my eye. It's something I'd wear on the weekend."
He saw the joy on her face. "Thank you. I haven't shown my work to anyone, outside of my assistants, of course. And I pay them. It helps to get an outside opinion."
He moved along the other sketches. Women's clothes, of course, didn't mean a whole lot to him. But the men's did. She had a definite feel for men's clothing. None of it was stuffy or buttoned up. It was all casual.