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?
I think about telling him it’s really ok and I could just walk or call a ride, but I can literally feel the fatigue down to my bones.
Today was hard enough. I don’t want to think about this or anything else, for that matter.
I just want to lie down. Besides, if I’m going to get into a stranger’s car, I’d rather it be a stranger I at least have stalked on the internet about twenty times.
And it’s free.
“Sure. I guess, thanks.” Carson smiles triumphantly.
“Nice, I was sure you’d say hell no.” He laughs, and I like the way it sounds so much. Have I ever liked someone’s laugh?
Ugh, it’s almost annoying to even think about this right now.
I nervously go to grab my bag, my breath hitching when we reach for it at the same time, and our fingers brush.
“Let me,” he says softly, the words coming out way more intimately than they actually are. Than I’m sure he intended.
“Oh. You don’t have to, it’s fine, you probably have your own gear to carry.”
“Julian, I packed my stuff away in the car already. Let me get your bag, please?” He chuckles, holding his hand out. I contemplate just walking off towards the exit, to the car, but I hand him the bag and look away sheepishly.
“Fine. Thank you.” I say, biting my bottom lip.
I’ve competed in front of thousands of onlookers, and this is where I feel shy, under one man’s gaze. And because he wants to carry my things for me. I need to get serious.
“Damn, it sounds like you’re being held at gunpoint when you say thank you.” He laughs at me rolling my eyes.
* * *
We head out into the parking lot. I pull my hoodie over my body a little tighter; the air is starting to get just a bit chilly at night.
We reach the car and, of course, it’s really nice.
A black, sleek BMW. Definitely suits his personality, or what I know of it.
He opens the door for me and rounds the car to put my things in the back before getting into the driver’s seat.
I fasten my seat belt and send him my address to put in the navigation as we set off.
“Let me know if you want to listen to anything.”
“It’s a short ride from here, so I’m ok with whatever you’re listening to,” I say softly, looking out the window.
“Cool,” he says, turning on his own music. I look over to him, my brows pinched, “Britney Spears?”
“Hey, hey now, don’t judge, I mostly listen to rnb.” He grins, “But I love a little Britney after practice.”
“I mean, I suppose.” I chuckle, shaking my head.
The neighborhood is going by so fast, which means this ride is going by fast. I don’t know how I feel about that. I’m enjoying Carson’s humming to his Britney playlist; some of these songs I haven’t heard in years.
We’re quiet for a bit before he cuts through the silence, “So I noticed you have a little accent.”
“Is that a question?” I snicker, and he laughs, showing me a beaming smile while we’re at a red light.
“You’re so feisty. I’m just curious.” He chuckles.
Curious about me?
For what? Is what I want to say, but I’m too busy thinking about how I’ve decided I definitely hate the way that makes me feel. The fact that it seems like he’s always wondering about me.
I like our stalking to be one-sided.
“Soo yeah, where’d you study?” He asks.
“I studied in England for a bit. There was a skating camp there.” I fiddle with my hands, my palms becoming damp with sweat. Being under his attention in this confined space is driving me a bit crazy.
“That’s so interesting. I don’t really think I ever hear any Koreans with British accents, it’s usually like Australian, you know.” His face scrunches up so cutely when he’s in wonder. God, what am I even thinking about right now?
“Yeah, I guess I’m kinda special like that,” I mumble, going back to looking out the window.
“You are.” He says under his breath, staring straight ahead. And if I wasn’t so hyper aware of him, I’m sure I would’ve missed it. I’m still second-guessing if he even said it at all.
“So, anyways, what about your family? They’re probably so proud of you. I hear you’ve won mostly gold.” He smiles. So he has looked into me. I swallow.
“Yeah. I suppose they are. We’re all pretty close. It’s always tough though, being so far away from them sometimes. I even moved them to Seoul to be closer to me in recent years.”
I don’t know why I’m sharing so much. I feel like my walls are slipping in this car with him right now, like there’s nowhere for me to hide.
“Being away definitely sucks. But you take care of your family, that’s admirable. It’s nice to be able to give them a little something back, you know.” I hum in agreement.
“Make sure you give back to yourself too though,” He says softly. My stomach flutters when I turn toward him, and we lock eyes. I don’t like whatever it is I’m seeing, or maybe I don’t like whatever it is he’s seeing. And thank God it’s fleeting because we’ve arrived at my building.
“I should…head inside.” I stammer, fumbling with my seat belt, the stupid thing not releasing. I’m sure I look so silly in front of him right now. Carson moves suddenly, reaching over and unclipping it for me.
“You looked like you were struggling a bit there.” He laughs. Struggling? He has no fucking idea, seeing as he’s more in my space than he needs to be, among other things.
“Thanks, Carson, and thank you for the ride,” I say, my voice coming out much softer than I would like, and I know my face is red because it’s burning. He’s so close right now, way too close.
Our faces are only inches apart. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, and I want to die.
Because I once again feel myself spiraling into this is he or isn’t he flirting with me rabbit hole.
And he suddenly sits back with a smirk, that I’m one-hundred percent sure he’s using to torment me now.
“No problem. I have longer training days sometimes, so I can give you a ride, and you’re not that far from the rink, so.” He explains.
Yeah, that’s not happening.
I’m never getting in this car with you again.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
I grab my bag from the back and head off to my door. I can feel his gaze trailing after me. He’s waiting until I get in before driving off, and that realization makes my entire body burn hot.
I’m gonna be sick.