Playing With Fate

by Ava Thorpe

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I took some awesome shots of Puck the other day at Conroy Pit when he was off-leash. Want to see?” Luke said.

  Carter nodded. He’d finally signed the waiver that let Luke walk Puck off-leash. He didn’t know why he didn’t do it sooner. Puck loved being able to run around freely, and Carter trusted Luke implicitly.

  Luke gave Carter his phone. “Here, go look through them. They’re pretty stellar if I do say so myself. I’m going to go back to the bedroom, I can’t find one of my books.”

  Waving him off, Carter started to flick through the pictures on Luke’s phone. Luke was right—the photos were stellar. Carter didn’t know you could even take such quality photos on a phone, but leave it to Luke to master the thing. Puck looked like he was clearly enjoying himself, too.

  The phone vibrated, and a message notification popped up.

  Don’t forget about Friday night at Future. 8PM. Can’t wait to see you.

  It was from a guy named Mike, and the notification only flashed for a second, but Carter had been able to read it anyway.

  Who the fuck was Mike?

  Wait, Luke had told him he needed to run an errand on Friday. It was why Luke couldn’t see him that night. Was Mike his errand?

  Was Luke going out on a date with another guy?

  Carter’s heart fell. It couldn’t be, right? Sure, they’d never talked about monogamy or labeled what they had as a relationship—as something serious—but Carter had assumed he and Luke were on the same page. Was this why Luke never brought him to meet his friends?

  Because he didn’t think Carter was worth being serious about?

  All the air in the room felt like it had been sucked out, and Carter couldn’t breathe. There had to be an explanation for this.

  But then, why wouldn’t Luke have just told him about it? Why was he vague?

  Had he been seeing this guy—or whatever guy—this whole time?

  “The pictures are awesome, right?” Luke said, grinning, as he stepped out of the bedroom.

  Carter didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, great.” He handed the phone back to Luke, forcing a smile.

  “I’ve gotta go, but text me? I’m sure I can sneak a few texts here and there during the movie.” Luke kissed him soundly. Carter froze on the spot, unable to move or return the kiss. Luke pulled away, confused. “You okay?”

  Carter swallowed thickly. “Yeah, fine. I’ll see you on Saturday?”

  Luke smiled at him, the kind of smile that was soft around the edges, and it made Carter’s chest constrict. “Definitely. Good luck with the game! I know you’ll kill it!” He gave Carter one last kiss, before heading to the hallway to put on his shoes.

  With a wave, Luke opened the door and left the condo.

  Carter staggered to the couch. What if Luke didn’t feel the same? He wasn’t sure he could handle it, knowing Luke didn’t love him back. That to Luke, this was just casual.

  He could hardly blame Luke for it, that was the hard part. Half the guys on Carter’s team had a new girlfriend every week, and even those girls got to come to team parties or out for drinks with the boys. What had Carter ever done to make Luke feel like he was worth more to him than some random hook-up?

  Puck came over, nuzzling his knee. He scratched behind Puck’s ear. “What am I gonna do, buddy?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Luke

  Luke woke up with a screaming headache. It had been a while since he had a hangover, and he’d forgotten just how awful it was.

  He was going to kill Tessa.

  Tessa brought out a bottle of Havana Club rum her parents gave her from their trip to Cuba as soon as he walked in, and the rest was a blur. Between Tessa, Jay, and him, they were able to finish the bottle while watching old episodes of The OC on Netflix.

  It was fun, though, so Luke supposed he could get over the hangover. It was nice to chat and chill with his roommates. They used to hang out a lot more, but with life, school, and relationships getting in the way, they didn’t get a chance to get together much anymore.

  Luke missed Carter, though. Tessa even threatened to confiscate his phone, because he wouldn’t stop checking it every ten minutes.

  There was no point in confiscating it anyway, because for some reason, Carter didn’t text him at all last night. It was weird—Carter usually texted him good night, at least, even when he was away on road trips, but all Luke got was radio silence. Nothing.

  He turned on his phone once he was a little more awake. Unfurling the blankets around him, he sat up on his bed, his back to the headboard. Checking his messages, Luke frowned when he saw his inbox empty.

  Still nothing from Carter.

  Maybe Carter just hadn’t woken up yet. But then Luke remembered Carter’s road trip, and yeah, he was definitely awake. He had to walk Puck before leaving, after all. He didn’t know why Carter hadn’t texted him. Normally, the man beat him to it every morning, a good morning text already sitting in Luke’s inbox before he’d even woken up.

  Confused, he typed a message to Carter. Good morning, sunshine. I hope you had a good night last night. Are you heading out to Nashville now?

  Getting out of bed, he shrugged on the first t-shirt he found in his drawer. He put on yesterday’s jeans, and headed out to the kitchen.

  He needed coffee, stat.

  Luckily for him, there was coffee already heating up in a pot. Tessa was the best. She left early in the morning for work, and usually she would make coffee, leaving some for Luke when he woke up.

  Pouring himself a cup, Luke took a couple of spoonfuls of sugar and stirred it into his coffee. He was an all sugar, no milk kind of guy. Tessa thought it was disgusting, but Tessa made terrible choices about coffee. Her coffee was basically mostly milk, with little coffee in it.

  With his coffee cup in hand, Luke went to the hallway and picked up his mail from the small corner table they had. He hadn’t been able to check his mail this week, and there was a small pile waiting for him.

  One was a big envelope with a university seal.

  He gulped, taking his mail to the living room. He put his cup down, tearing into the big envelope first. It was from Dalhousie University out on the east coast. He took out the package, searching for the letter first.

  His stomach sank when he read it.

  He got in.

  Luke had been accepted to Dalhousie’s law program. He should be elated. Dalhousie was a prestigious university. It was where his dad went to get his law degree, and his grandfather before that. Getting into Dalhousie should feel like a proud moment.

  It felt like a death sentence.

  There was no way his father would let him attend any other university, not when Luke had gotten accepted to the university.

  He felt tears prickle at the back of his eyes. Fuck. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to give his life away for something he didn’t believe in? Something he didn’t even want?

  Luke thought about how disappointed his parents would be if he changed his plans. They’d done so much for him. They’d accepted him no questions asked when he came out. They’d paid for his education.

  He wanted to make them happy, to make them proud of him.

  So why did it feel like the rug under him was being pulled out? Why did it feel like his life was crumbling before him?

  The idea of going to law school, of being a lawyer—it made him panic. Sure, Luke knew he could make a difference as a lawyer. There was nothing stopping him from specializing in areas that mattered.

  It still made him feel like a fraud.

  He felt like he had no agency, like he had no control over his life, and he hated it. There was a solution to this, of course: he could refuse to go to law school.

  Christ.

  Could he really do that? Did he have the guts to do it?

  He wanted to teach. More than anything else in the world, he wanted to teach music. That was enough for him, but would that be enough to please
his parents? Luke wasn’t sure.

  A thought crossed his mind. Are you going to keep living for your parents, or are you going to start living for you.

  Sighing, Luke made a pile of his mail, bringing it to the desk in his room. He didn’t have to make a decision today. Thank god for small mercies. He needed to regroup and think, to examine what he really wanted.

  His phone rang, and Luke scrambled to answer it. It was Marjorie. “Marjorie, hey, how are you?”

  “Hi Luke. I just wanted to ask and see what happened with Mr. Welling,” she said. “He just called asking for someone else to take over your walks, and I wanted to check in with you first.”

  Luke blinked. What the hell? “Mr. Welling as in Carter Welling? He cancelled my walks?” Why would Carter cancel his walks?

  Carter didn’t tell him anything about this at all.

  “Yes, Puck’s owner. Do you know what’s happening? You’re not in trouble, like I said, I just wanted to check in with you.”

  His jaw dropping in surprise, Luke stuttered, “No, I don’t know what’s happening. I just…I just saw Carter yesterday. I’m as confused as you are.” He probably shouldn’t have mentioned that he saw Carter after hours, after all Carter was still technically a client, but it was too late to backtrack now.

  Marjorie hummed in understanding. “That does sound strange. But there’s nothing to be done, I’m afraid, I have to follow what the client wants.” She sounded apologetic. “I’m going to switch your shift today into a group walk, so Finn can walk Puck. Can you make it?”

  Still in shock, Luke mumbled, “Yes, yes, that’s fine. I’ll see you at the office.”

  “Great. If you could bring Mr. Welling’s keys, too, that’d be great. Thanks, Luke, I’ll see you shortly,” she said, before closing the line.

  Luke sat on his bed, still reeling from the conversation. What was happening? He punched in Carter’s number, and put the call on speaker.

  It rang once, twice, before he was sent to Carter’s voicemail.

  “Carter, what’s going on? Marjorie just called and said you canceled my walks with Puck? Is something wrong? Call me, please.”

  There was a hammering in his chest that he couldn’t stop. He lay in bed, on top of his covers, his eyes shut tight. Something was wrong, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

  His phone beeped. He was already jittery, and the small noise made him leap up. It was from Carter.

  I think we should stop seeing each other. I’m sorry.

  Luke’s jaw dropped.

  Carter was breaking up with him? Or well, the equivalent of breaking up for whatever it was they had. He didn’t understand. They were so good together. Yesterday had been amazing. What could have happened in between for Carter to want this? To want it all to end?

  Was he freaking out about fucking Luke? Was Carter finally having his gay freak out moment?

  Luke felt sick to his stomach, tears starting to well up. It was like he couldn’t breathe, his chest constricting, and he couldn’t take in enough air. He didn’t want to cry, but he wasn’t able to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks.

  What went wrong?

  Dialing Carter’s number again, Luke tried to reach the other man. All he got was voicemail again, though, and Luke threw his phone to the side, frustrated.

  He didn’t know how to deal with this. After last night, Luke thought he and Carter were getting somewhere. For a moment, while Carter was inside him, he thought Carter felt the same way. That Carter cared about him the same way he cared about Carter.

  But now Carter was breaking up with him?

  He needed to talk to him. This had to be some kind of misunderstanding. Grabbing his phone from the pile of blankets on his bed, he typed in a message for Carter.

  I can’t accept that. Please, babe, talk to me. What’s going on?

  Lucky for him, Carter was going out of town. It wasn’t like he could just come to Carter’s condo and demand answers.

  God damn it.

  His heart was breaking. He didn’t know what he did wrong. Did he come on too strongly? Did he stay over at Carter’s too much? Did he not give the man his space?

  What could have precipitated this?

  His phone pinged, and he hoped it was a text back from Carter.

  It wasn’t. It was an email from Mike, with more detailed information about setting up for his gig tomorrow at Future.

  Right, his gig.

  Suddenly, the excitement around his gig died down. There were too many things happening all at once, too many things clamoring for his attention. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t exactly cancel. Sighing, he got up from his bed to take his guitar out of his closet.

  The last thing he wanted to do was practice, but since he couldn’t do what he really wanted to do, couldn’t reach Carter and talk to him, he had no other choice.

  Music was his solace. It had fixed a lot of things in his life: his anxiety, his shyness. He could only hope it could also fix his broken heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Carter

  “You okay, bud?” Ash asked kindly as they were stepping off the plane. Carter had spent most of the flight with his noise-cancelling headphones on, an eye mask over his face.

  He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not right now.

  Carter also couldn’t ignore his captain, though, so he nodded briskly. “Yeah, just tired, you know? I hate crossing time zones.”

  Ash smiled at him lightly. “I get that.” He rolled his suitcase beside Carter and they walked quietly to the concourse. “If you need anything, though, I’m here, okay?”

  He appreciated the gesture, but he got into this mess all by himself. He didn’t know how Ash could help. “Thanks,” he said anyway. His voice was quiet, tired.

  Carter was exhausted.

  He’d been running himself ragged thinking about Luke all day. Did he make the right decision? What if he’d misunderstood it all? What if that Mike guy was just a friend or a study group partner? Did he really just throw it all away without talking to Luke first?

  Carter gripped his suitcase tightly. Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe. But one day, Luke was going to get tired of Carter’s road life, anyway. Luke was going to get tired of the late nights, and long road trips away from him.

  Hell, Luke might not even be in Ottawa six months from now.

  It was better to end it now, when Carter could still get out, than later, when he was in too deep. Right?

  His phone rang as he got on the bus that would take them to their hotel for the night. He ignored it. Carter had been ignoring his phone calls all day long. He couldn’t look at his phone. He didn’t trust himself enough to not reply to Luke.

  Once he replied, once he talked to Luke, he knew his resolve would crumble.

  He needed to check his phone eventually, though, much to his chagrin. His friend Max was the new captain of the Nashville team. They had planned on going out tonight for dinner. This was the first time he was seeing Max since the offseason, and as much as part of him just wanted to stay in the hotel and sulk, he also didn’t want to miss seeing his best friend.

  Carter didn’t know how Max did it. Max and Chase, his boyfriend, were teammates—they should never have worked out, but they did. Maybe it was because Chase was a hockey player, too. He understood the lifestyle that came with being a hockey player.

  Max and Chase were lucky, in a sense, even if they couldn’t really come out about their relationship.

  When he got to his room, he lifted his luggage on the luggage rack, rummaging through it for something more comfortable and casual. He dressed himself in a new pair of jeans and an emerald green long-sleeved t-shirt.

  He winced when he remembered the shirt was given to him by Luke.

  He didn’t pack a lot of casual clothes, though, just his game suits, so he had no choice but to wear it. Sighing, he hopped on the bed, his back against the headboard. He flipped through his phone, ignoring the messages from Luke, and started
a new conversation with Max.

  Are you still down for dinner later?

  Max replied a moment later. Of course. Wanna just cab to my place? I’ll get take out.

  Cheapskate, you won’t even take me out for a proper dinner? Carter texted back, but coming over to Max’s sounded better than going out to a restaurant. They could just relax and chill, without having to worry about fans.

  Not that they had too many fans to begin with—this was Nashville, after all, but Max was the captain of the team. He got his fair share of the attention.

  He had a couple of hours to kill before he had to go to Max’s place. He could join the guys for a bit—Ash was organizing some kind of touristy thing—but Carter didn’t feel like being with a lot of people. He was exhausted, the kind that seeped into his bones. The last thing he wanted was to spend the next couple of hours pretending he was fine.

  He wasn’t.

  Carter felt sick to his stomach. All he could focus on was Luke. He wondered what Luke was doing now, wondered if Luke was just as affected as he was.

  He was tempted to check his messages again. Instead, he did something worse. He pulled up his gallery app, flicking through his photos. His gallery was almost entirely of Luke and Puck, and it made the hurt worse. There was a particularly good picture of the three of them, taken at the dog park at home.

  Puck was panting excitedly with his tongue out, and Carter had his arms around Luke. Luke was leaning against him almost imperceptibly. The whole picture looked so domestic, so comfortable, like the three of them belonged together from the very beginning.

  It filled Carter with want.

  He wanted everything with Luke, but how could it work? They had too many things stacked against them.

  Closing his eyes, he rolled onto his side, clutching one of the pillows on the bed. Already, he missed hugging Luke, missed having his warmth against him. How was he supposed to move on?

  When he woke up an hour and a half later, Carter still felt down. He tried to shake it off—he was seeing his best friend, after all, the best friend he hadn’t seen in months. This was a happy time.