Page 22 of Melt His Heart

Me: Nothing. I just returned from practice. Showered.

Carson: you’re so proper even when you text

Carson: sry for what the brits did to you.

Carson: and showered…mm sounds nice ;)

Me: You’re so ridiculous Carson.

Me: Wait aren’t you playing right now?!

Carson: we’re in break relax

Carson: but gtg back soon tho so *kisses*

Me: Carson! You should be focusing on the game!

Carson: gimme kiss back or its bad luck for me

Me: What! Carson! Get back to the game!

Carson: you know hockey players are superstitious pls

Carson: you want me to be a loser?

Me: Fine… *kisses*

This is so embarrassing. I can’t believe I just typed that; my face is burning. None of this is real, yet I’m rolling over, kicking my feet like a lovesick idiot. I need to get a grip before Carson Young consumes me whole.

Carson: aww you’re so sweet..thank you baby gtg win now see you soon!

Baby?

Ok, never mind, he’s literally insane. I throw my phone to the other side of the bed with a groan. What am I doing? I’ve learned Carson might just be flirty, but I don’t know if I can take it. I’m sure it’s my lack of romantic experience mixed with the fact I obviously think he’s attractive, I mean who wouldn’t? But it’s starting to become really hard to keep myself in check with him.

He’s joking, but am I?

My phone dings with another message, and I sigh. How the hell does Carson focus on me and the game at the same time? I grab my phone and check to see a message from Liam instead.

Liam: Hey just wanted to let you know we might have a class coming up if you still wanna join, let me know! Also how’s skating going?

Me: Of course, I’d love to join and thank you for asking, its going great still.

Liam: Thats good! And ok I’ll let you know ok?

Me: Yes thanks Liam!

I smile up at my phone before turning it back off. Liam and I have been texting a lot too; mostly about mundane things. I don’t know why, but I feel really proud of myself for making a new friend, I mean, outside of Carson and all on my own.

* * *

I bite my lip as I fumble around with the hem of my shirt for the hundredth time. It’s the night of me and Carson’s date that’s not a date. I’m definitely not freaking out. I did a little makeup tonight; just a little face cream, light blush, and I lined my eyes lightly, but it makes a difference. Still, it’s nothing super noticeable. I usually only do it for my programs.

I gave up denying that I want to look good for Carson a while ago. My reflection in the mirror is finally satisfying. The long black sleeve button top and black slacks should be fitting enough for tonight, I think.

My hair lies perfectly fluffy and soft around my face; I think I look pretty cute right now. Carson better like it, the only thing I’ve put this much effort into is skating.

The ring from my phone fills the room. He must be downstairs waiting. I take a long, deep breath; it feels like there’s no air in this room suddenly. My throat might close up, and we’ll be spending the night in the emergency room instead. What a nice date that would be.