Page 5 of Melt His Heart

“Ok, Mom, love you.”

“I love you too. Your dad says to rest and be up early.”

“I will.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up. I roll over, thinking about how it’s important that I do well and not get distracted by anything that could make me falter.

Chapter 3

Aweek or so has passed since I told Carson and his little hockey crew to make sure they clean up after themselves, and ok maybe I’ve been thinking about him a little more than I should have. I hate to admit he’s becoming my guilty pleasure. But that’s beside the point.

He actually listened to me and has been keeping good on his word. They’ve even been making sure to sanitize the equipment when they’re done. Makes me think maybe he wasn’t being an arrogant jerk and really just didn’t realize how messy they were leaving the place. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt this time.

Occasionally, I even give in and interact with him here and there as they’re heading off on their merry way. And truly merry, hockey players always seem to be laughing and joking around with each other, even in practice. My gaze flicks up to Carson as he’s making his way over to me. The skin on my neck burns a bit with a light flush.

“Hi Julian.” He smirks, watching me while I finish my warm-up routine.

“Hey…” I mutter, “See you.” Is all he says before heading off towards the locker room. And that’s about as far as our conversations have been going lately. I’m not sure if I love or hate it, honestly.

And instead of just trying to talk to him, what do I do? Go home and stalk him some more on social media. It’s becoming a bit of a routine for me after training: get cozy and see what ridiculous content Carson has posted for the day. I mean, it’s usually him and his teammates roughhousing around, sometimes it’s him spending time with his family, and that girl from before. I guess he really does have a girlfriend. My mood souring every time I see them together.

I wonder what she’s like. She’s certainly very pretty. I guess that’s his type: beautiful and cheery women. She’s always smiling when he posts her, or they’re laughing together. Sometimes I catch myself thinking how I want to laugh like that with him too. But that’s absolutely ridiculous when I can’t even further a conversation with him.

I groan, snatching my iPad from my bag. This is a time when I should be re-watching my programs and figuring out how I can land this jump and be on tempo with this new choreography, and instead, I’m wondering what a hockey player from New Jersey’s type is, when it’s obviously not me. Now that I think of it, is he from New Jersey? Ugh.

* * *

I arrived at the rink a bit early today, definitely not to get a glimpse of a certain man before my training starts. The ice was buzzing with players during their scheduled practice time. I guess hockey preseason, or whatever Carson called it, has started because the guys have been looking a bit more serious lately. I tried not to seem like I’m paying attention to him while I was absolutely paying attention to him, but he looked so determined, focused, and sure.

He looked like a leader.

My session is finally over; I start packing my skates away in my bag. I stayed way longer than I usually would have because I really want to get a new program down and soon. But we still haven’t decided what I should go with, so I suppose we’re trying everything.

I check my phone to see when the next bus is going to arrive, and nothing comes up. I know I haven’t gotten the hang of how the metro system works in this town just yet, but I know this is the only bus I need to get home, and now it’s saying they’re rerouting my stop after a certain time due to maintenance on the roads.

This is so stupid. I should have checked earlier, but then again, how was I to know America’s roads need to be repaved every two business days? I lean back on the bench and sigh. Maybe I’ll just call a ride for tonight and make sure I leave a bit earlier tomorrow.

I open my phone to do just that when I hear footsteps outside the locker room. I’m pretty sure I was the last one here. Cautiously, I approach the doorway, almost running straight into Carson’s broad chest.

“Hey.” He tilts his head and smiles down at me.

Where did he come from?

He smells really nice.

Ok, let’s not go there.

“Hey. Shouldn’t you guys be out for the day? Did you leave something behind?” I mumble, looking away, biting my lip. The feeling of his closeness is something I can’t really put into words. But I know I’m not a fan of the unfamiliar, so I don’t even bother trying to complete the thought.

“Yeah, I definitely left something.” He smirks.

“But anyways, it’s pretty late. You need a ride? I noticed you don’t drive and…” He says, following the movement of me putting my head down. I don’t want him looking at me, let alone in the eyes.

“A ride? Oh, I mean, it’s fine. My flat isn’t that far from here. I can walk.” I shrug.

“Oh yeah? Well, that’s even better. It would be even quicker if I gave you a ride.” I blush at that, hoping if I keep my head down, he won’t notice.

Why is he even paying attention to me? And why is he still here?