“Apology accepted. I’m sorry I brought it up—again.”
He took her hand. “You’re entitled to bring it up as many times as you want to. I was a jerk that night. And a lot before that. I didn’t notice you when I should have.”
He wasn’t making this any easier. “You weren’t supposed to do anything other than be who you were. I was the one who threw myself at you.”
He smiled at her. “You did. Thanks for that. It was good for my ego.”
“As if your ego needed any more stroking. You had girls lining up to crawl into bed with you all through college. For as long as I can remember, you were the hot stud every girl wanted to get with. And you were oblivious to most of them, or you strung them along, choosing the best ones and discarding the less attractive ones.”
“Ouch. Was I really that bad?”
“Yes. You were really that bad. As far as I know, you might still be.”
“Trust me. The only thing keeping me busy these days is hockey.”
“Uh-huh. Somehow I find that difficult to believe. A leopard doesn’t change its spots, Drew. And you haven’t suddenly become a monk.”
“Okay, maybe not. But I’m an adult now, and chasing after women like there’s no tomorrow isn’t high on my priority list anymore.”
She wasn’t sure she bought his reformed-bad-boy speech, but as they ate dinner, she noticed he focused only on her, despite several very attractive women trying to get his attention. Okay, points for him on that one. She’d been out on dates with plenty of men who had a roving eye, who seemed to think that they’d been placed on earth to have women service them.
Generally, those were the one-date-only types. A man who couldn’t pay attention to her for the duration of a date didn’t deserve her, and the one thing she’d learned over the years was that she deserved to have a man who wanted her—really wanted her.
Maybe she had Drew to thank for that, since she’d endured a lot of misery because of him, and she’d grown up during those months she’d spent crying over him and mourning the loss of her fantasies about love and happily ever after.
“You’re quiet over there.”
She lifted her gaze to find him staring at her. “Just enjoying my dinner.”
“The steak is that good?”
“You wouldn’t have brought me here if it wasn’t, isn’t that right?”
The waiter took their plates and Drew leaned back in the chair. “Right. So you’ve had some wine, and you’ve been fed. Feeling better now?”
“I was feeling fine before.”
“No you weren’t. You wanted to rush home and do something about those sketches you made during the game.”
“Maybe.”
“Now your face is flushed and you don’t seem as . . . frenetic.”
“Oh, you know big words.”
His lips curved and she watched them as he finished off his glass of wine. “Yeah. I went to college, you know. Got a degree and everything.”
“So I heard. And what have you done with that degree in business you got? Anything useful?”
“Nah. Just pissing the money away on booze and women.”
She didn’t believe that, but then again, what did she really know about what Drew had been doing with his life in the years since he’d left college?
“Seriously?”
He gave her a slanted smile. “Sure. I’m single and carefree. What else am I going to do with the money?”
“I don’t know. Invest it. Give some of it back to your community, to those less fortunate.”
“Now you sound like your dad.”
“And that’s a problem? What’s wrong with my father?”
“Nothing. He’s a great guy. Smart. Successful. Vice president of the United States and everything. And he likes hockey. What’s not to like about him?”
“You didn’t mention his politics.”
“I make a point to never mention politics.”
“Why? Afraid you can’t handle political talk?”
He leaned forward. “Are you baiting me, Ms. Preston?”
“Not at all. I’m just curious about what you do like to talk about.”
“That’s easy. Hockey. And sex.”
Now this was the Drew she remembered, the one who teased her and did his best to irritate her.
It was working.
She rolled her eyes. “Amazingly enough, two of my least favorite subjects.”
“I know you’re lying about the hockey part. I saw how excited you got watching the game. So, you don’t like sex?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I think you just did.”
She should have just gone home after the game. Despite his apology, Drew was obviously only interested in annoying her. He hadn’t changed all that much in the years since college. “I think it’s time I leave.”
He laughed. “You never could handle a good argument, Carolina. And I thought as a politician’s daughter, you’d be one to hang in there for at least a little longer.” He waved to the waiter, who asked if they wanted coffee and dessert. When Drew looked at Carolina, she shot him a glare.
“Guess not, Daniel. We’ll just take the bill.”
He sat back and finished up the last of the wine, then paid the bill while Carolina fumed silently.
He’d gotten to her, and Carolina had been certain he didn’t have the capacity to do that any longer. She didn’t know if she was more irritated with him, or with herself. They stood and headed outside, and she was half tempted to grab a taxi rather than share a car ride with him.
But that would be petty and childish and she’d outgrown those emotions. She could certainly endure the ten-minute ride back to her place.
“You’re irritated,” he said after a few minutes in the car.
“No, I’m not. I’m just tired and thinking about how much work I have to do tonight.”
“Are you on a schedule?”
“Yes. A very tight one.”
“Then maybe you should have said no when I invited you to dinner.”
She shot him a look, then realized she couldn’t blame him. He was right. She was an adult and capable of making her own decisions. It wasn’t like he’d kidnapped her or in any way forced her to come to dinner with him. It was her own weakness where he was concerned that pissed her off.