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.
Now? Now was a different story. Now he was settled, with a good career and a stability in his life he hadn’t had before.
Except Carolina wouldn’t give him the time of day.
He aimed to change that.
THREE
CAROLINA TOOK A CAB TO MADISON SQUARE GARDEN, went to the box office to pick up her ticket, and made her way to her seat, surprised when she realized it was in the middle and down low.
Great seats. She’d have an amazing view of all the action and the players. She took out her sketchbook and readied for the game.
When the players came out, which happened to be right near where she was seated, she shifted in her seat to watch them take the ice.
It was just as she’d imagined, only so much better seeing it in person. Despite being loaded down with heavy uniforms and protective gear, they glided across the ice, as breathtaking in form as a figure skater who wore the lightest of costumes. Carolina settled in and watched the players warm up, the grace and fluidity of motion they used to slide the puck back and forth as graceful to her as any skater she’d ever seen.
When the game started and the referee dropped the puck between the two opposing players, she leaned forward, her gaze already trained on Drew, one of the forwards. He and his teammates struck fast, grabbing the puck and driving ahead toward Denver’s goal.
Drew was lightning fast. Carolina no more than blinked and he had skated down the ice toward the goal and taken a shot. It missed, but his teammate had scooped it up behind the goalie and shot it toward another one of the Travelers players.
The interplay fascinated her. She’d watched a lot of games on television, but there was nothing like being at a game. The action was fast paced, and she found herself leaning forward, her pencil clutched tightly in her hand. By the time Denver had snatched the puck and moved to the other side of the ice, she realized she hadn’t sketched anything because she’d been too absorbed in the game.
Time to change that. She focused on Drew, the way his body moved when he skated. Of course she wouldn’t be able to get a decent sketch of his body, but she drew the lines to give her an impression of movement.
“Hey, whatcha doin’?”
She looked up at the man sitting next to her. He was maybe in his late forties, wearing a Travelers jersey and clutching a beer in his hand.
“Sketching.”
“You a reporter?”
She smiled at him. “No.”
“So why you drawin’ pictures?”
She really didn’t want to get into why she was doing this. “I just like to draw. It . . . brings the game alive for me.”
“Oh. I get it. Better than takin’ a picture with your camera, huh?”
“Yes. Something like that.”
He slapped her on the back. Hard. “Good for you, honey.”
She winced and went back to watching the game, flipping the page so she could sketch some action shots with more than one player, wanting to get the speed of the skates, the teamwork involved, and the way the puck seemed to disappear when they all crowded around it.
Men at work. This was Drew’s job, and as she zeroed in on him, she highlighted his face, glad now that he’d gotten her these seats so close-up. She depicted the fierceness of his features as he concentrated on fighting for the puck. And when he was slammed against the boards right in front of her, she saw the ends of his hair peeking out from his helmet. His hair was wet from sweat despite how cold it was in the Garden. Not surprising, considering there wasn’t a moment he was on the ice that he wasn’t moving.