Page 18 of Melt His Heart

I feel like I’m wasting his time.

It’s not every day a skater can get his time, and here I am pissing all over it because some stupid boy didn’t text me back after cuddling me all night.

I don’t know why Carson not responding to me is bothering me this much. But this is exactly why I never get involved with anyone, especially guys like him.

“I’m so sorry.” I huff out, irritation laced in my tone. Not with him, of course, but with myself.

“Julian. It’s ok, it happens. Let’s break for now.” I nod, and we head off ice. The bench feels cold even against my clothed skin as I pull my bag over. For some reason, I still need to check my phone and see if Carson has text me at all. Though he’s read my messages, which makes me feel even worse. I can’t help it, and I feel so stupid for doing it as much as I have been.

Still nothing.

I should’ve known better.

* * *

Coach Peters may have been right about sitting down for a bit. I also will myself not to think about him after the break. The sound of my skates along the ice relaxes me as I glide backwards, picking up speed to jump into my last lutz. What we’re hoping will be the ending of my new short program. My leg extends out perfectly on landing. A sigh of relief leaves my lips. I skate over to my coach, where he waits with his ipad.

Finally, I landed something today.

“That lutz was beautiful, Julian.” He smiles, “Let’s see if we can do another one.”

“Alright.” I breathe.

I returned to the center of the ice and did my best throughout the rest of our session. It definitely could have been way better had I not been so distracted in the first place. But I can’t think about that right now when my body is singing with exhaustion.

I start off towards the doors when I see Carson and Sam laughing, heading towards me down the hall. An angry flush blooms hot across my skin. He looks so carefree.

Careless.

I’ve been having the worst fucking day. No week. Because I was so worried and embarrassed that he couldn’t even acknowledge me with a simple reply. After doing something I felt was so intimate.

I guess it doesn’t mean much to him.

But still, a reply would’ve been nice.

“Julian!” Carson grins.

I can feel his body tense as I brush past him, leaving him obviously taken aback, but for what I’m not sure. What did he expect from me? Why is he talking to me now? Does he just forget about me if we don’t see each other?

I didn’t forget about him.

What a fucking prick.

“Damn man, he looks pissed, what did you do?” I hear Sam mumble as I stalk closer to the exit.

“Julian!” Carson ignores him, calling out to me again instead. But I’m already pushing the doors to the rink exit open and stepping out into the chilled air.

Deep down, I think part of me wants him to follow me.

But the other part is glad he doesn’t.

* * *

I’ve been successfully ignoring Carson. The sun is hanging low as I walk through the rink parking lot. I waited till I was sure the hockey players would be well on their way by now so I could avoid seeing them altogether.

Blood rushes to my face with anger and embarrassment every time I think about how I risked my focus on him. On a night where I could have been resting and getting ready for training, I went out and got shitfaced with a boy who didn’t even text me back the next day. My knuckles redden as I grip the strap of my bag tighter.

I did something I would never usually do because I don’t know, I guess I got comfortable with Carson, and I just wanted to try to maybe be a little more open to things outside of skating because it seems to be working out fine for him.