Page 9 of Melt His Heart

I can tell, I’ve been there so many times.

I discreetly take a photo of his back while he’s resting with his teammates on the bench. I don’t know why, but being here feels special to me. Maybe because not only is it my first time since I can remember doing something just for the enjoyment of it, but I also just want to immortalize this version of Carson I’m seeing. He’s huddled with his team, hyping them up to break this tie, and I just feel proud of him.

I think I admire his duality.

“Come on, Carson..” I whisper to myself.

The crowd feels tense, we’re all on the edge of our seats with nerves, feeding off of each other’s collective energy, as they take the ice again. And I know enough to know this is their last chance to get the upper hand and win, they’re in the final quarter or period or whatever it’s called. My own leg is bouncing, my brows pinched. I feel like I might start sweating. I want so badly for Carson to have this win, to have that feeling I know we both as athletes thrive off of.

The players glide across the ice with precision and well-practiced movements. Though I don’t really understand most of what’s happening, I can measure how well it’s going by how the crowd is cheering so enthusiastically. It feels like the arena is quaking. Carson suddenly moves so fast, I’m barely able to keep up with his figure. He flicks his stick, taking the winning shot just before the clock above us runs out. I jump out of my seat with excitement.

“You did it!” I cheer before smacking my hand over my mouth when Carson looks straight up at me. I try to pull my hood over my head and sink back down into my seat. But I mean the tickets he got me are pretty close, so I’m positive he saw and heard me. He’s already got his headgear off, grinning at me when I peek through my hood. I groan when he sticks his tongue out at me.

Oh god, I’m going to die, my face is burning of embarrassment.

* * *

“So you came.”

I sigh and roll my eyes at the very familiar voice behind me as I’m climbing the steps. I should’ve left by now, but I wanted to wait for the majority of the crowd to head out before going. They make me a bit fidgety.

“I think you might be my lucky charm.” Carson drawls when I turn toward him, “You’re so ridiculous, seeing as you guys made it to your what? Playoffs? Last season, when you didn’t even know me.” I roll my eyes.

“Oh, so you’re keeping up with me and my team huh?”

“Um, no, my coach told me that actually.” I scoff, folding my arms while he’s standing there grinning ear to ear.

“And you remembered.”

“Anyways, I was thinking you could come to our after party.” He starts before I can even respond to that, running a hand through his hair. Why does he look kind of…shy right now as he waits for my answer, or am I imagining things? Seeing what I wish was true.

“After party? What? You guys drink and party after every win? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the next game?” I shake my head.

Carson laughs and says, “Maybe we do, and now you knowing me can be a great way for you to loosen up a bit, chill with some hockey players, we’re a good time.”

“I doubt that.” I retort.

“Well, come see and judge for yourself. You love judging, don’t you?”

I scoff at that because I do kind of like judging, but myself mostly.

“You think if you smile at me enough, I’ll give you what you want?” I assert, crossing my arms.

“Yes, actually.” Carson bites his lip through a cocky smile. A smile that definitely doesn’t work on me. Maybe everyone else but not me?

“Please.” He urges, giving me those annoying eyes.

It’s not the smile, it’s the begging.

That’s what I’m going with.

“Come pick me up when you’re done here.” I look away, biting my lower lip. I don’t think I’ve ever asked a guy to do something for me. Not that I asked, I kind of told him to. Still, it feels weird, but oddly, nice.

“Of course, whatever you want.” He smirks.

“You’re a little annoying, you know that.” I say, “and that’s not a question.” I deadpan, and I can hear him laughing as I’m walking away to the exit.

Chapter 5