Melting the Ice(140)
“This isn’t going like I thought it would. You could say something. Kick me to the curb, tell me to go fuck myself. Or tell me you forgive me. Something.”
She laughed. “I’m sorry. I was just stunned there for a moment. Of course I forgive you. We all go through things that are tough and emotional, and sometimes we take them out on the people we care about the most. First, I haven’t done the photo shoot yet.”
“You haven’t?”
“No. I decided to delay it until after Fashion Week. I did find someone else to do the shoot, but Drew, no one could replace you. Not in my head. I could only see you in those shots. You’re my perfect model for the print ad. I kept hoping you’d come around and maybe that’s why I delayed it until after the show. I kept hoping you’d change your mind.”
He lifted her hands and kissed them. “I’m a jerk.”
She laughed. “No, you’re not. Okay, sometimes you are. Sometimes I am, too. I can be self-absorbed and too into my own work. But the one thing that has consumed me for the past several months, sometimes to the detriment of my own work, has been you. I’m in love with you, Drew. I think about you all the time.”
He got up and came around to her side of the table, then pulled her into his arms and laid a kiss on her that left her breathless and dizzy. And despite being in a public restaurant, he continued to kiss her, framing her face with his hands, until she was certain that he was most definitely in love with her, because no man would kiss a woman like that in public unless he had genuine feelings for her. Because there was suddenly applause and catcalls and whistles, and when he pulled away, he ignored them all, focusing only on her as he smiled.
“I love you, Lina.”
She licked her lips, feeling as if this day couldn’t possibly get any better. “I love you, too, Drew.”
The waiter brought her food. Funnily enough, her near starvation of a few minutes ago had dissipated. But she ate anyway, while Drew watched her.
“You’re watching me eat,” she said.
“Yeah. So?”
“It’s a little disconcerting.”
He picked up the fork and scooped rice onto it. “Now I’m feeding you. Better?”
He slid the fork between her lips. She closed her mouth over it, but then found him watching her mouth.
“Now it just looks dirty.”
“Stop, or you’ll make me hard.”
She laughed, pushed him away, and finished her meal. They left the restaurant and went back to her apartment.
“When is your next game?” she asked as he opened the door for her.
“Tomorrow night.”
“Road game or home game?”
“Road game. New Jersey.”
He helped her with her coat. She turned to face him. “At least we have tonight together.”
He slipped his arms around her. “Yeah, we do, and it’s been too damn long since we were together. I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too. Now kiss me, undress me, and make love to me.”
“I’m all over that.” He gave her a wickedly sexy half smile she’d also missed—the one that tugged at her insides and turned her into mush.
He brushed his lips over hers, then pressed harder, opening her mouth and sliding his tongue over hers. She wound her hand around the nape of his neck to draw him closer, needing his hands, his mouth on hers, that connection they always forged that was emotional as well as physical.