Need Your Number: Chapter 26
On the flight I try and nap but all I can think of is how well Fiona’s interview went. I am happy for her, and I am so proud. But I am understandably scared of what will happen to us if I don’t get drafted to Tampa. I refuse to ask her to give up her career for me. This has been her dream and she is almost there. If I don’t get Tampa, hopefully another Florida team will pick me up.
My lease expires in May and I want to buy a house with my future wife and get a dog. I want to settle down. If I wasn’t worrying about the draft, I would start looking at houses and rings now. I am ready to commit to forever with her. But right now, until I have draft answers, I need to focus on that championship ring.
It is late when we land in Texas so I just send a text letting her know we arrived safely. This is my last away game in college without her, though. She told me that she is going to be traveling with the team for the away playoff games. I was super surprised when I found out Coach offered for us to stay together at the hotel. I guess he knew we would wind up in the same bed with or without his permission. Plus, that saves the team from getting an extra room.
Waking up Saturday I head to the rink with the team for morning skate and light dryland stuff. Then we head back to the hotel. I use that time to take a nap, then I call Fiona. She is heading to Slapshots to watch the game. She tells me to check the side pocket of my duffel. When I do I find a bunch of Airheads. We always seem to exchange Airheads no matter how far apart we are. I love it. I love her.
Sitting in the locker room, I get an Instagram notification. Fiona posted a new picture – it’s a picture of us on the tarmac, kissing from the last away game. She is in my shirt with her back to the plane. Someone on the plane must have taken it and sent it to her. The caption says, I got your number and you got my heart… seems like a fair trade. I set my phone down, eat one of my Airheads, and get ready to win this game.
We head to the ice and complete our warmups. When the camera pans across me while I am leaning on the boards by the bench, I give it a subtle nod, hoping that Fiona catches it. Coach gives us a long speech about winning so we can head to the playoffs. The team is buzzing with unhinged energy, wanting this game to keep us undefeated.
The game was a win, but it wasn’t an easy win. I went to the penalty box more today than I have in the past few games. This team just couldn’t stay away from our goalie so I had to be extra physical. We are officially heading into the playoffs undefeated! I had two assists today, so my season stats are looking perfect heading into playoff time.
The locker room is unhinged! Everyone is celebrating being undefeated! Coach is even smiling.
Luke stands up. “TIME FOR PLAYOFF BEARDS!” he yells.
Everyone cheers. I usually keep my face clean shaven, so I am interested to see how Fiona likes it. Tradition is tradition, though, and she knows that. We all head to the plane in great moods. While I wait for take off, I see a text from Fiona, telling me she is proud of me and she noticed my nod to the camera. I see our team TikTok playing on Luke’s phone. He tilts the phone to me. The video just went up and is already going viral. It’s me going after the left wing from the Vermont game after he slashed Davis with his stick. The remarks are crazy with girls commenting about how hot it was.
I laugh and roll my eyes.
“I am sure my sister is loving these comments,” Luke says before we both switch our phones off.
Arriving home, Fiona is on the couch, asleep. She wakes up when I get home and we head to the bedroom to sleep. While I am changing she walks over and drops to her knees.
“Those girls will never get a chance to have this cock,” is all she says before taking me into her mouth.
Possessive Fiona is hot. She cups my balls while she takes my whole cock, gagging. Her eyes are welling with tears but the sounds coming from her mouth as she sucks is so fucking hot. I grab her head, taking over the speed until I orgasm, moaning out her name while she takes every drop. Then she licks her lips and climbs into bed. “Goodnight, Z,” she mumbles, snuggling up to her pillow.
Sunday we watch movies and have lunch with her siblings, Celisa, and Charlie. It is nice catching up with them and getting to meet Charlie. She seems nice. I can’t help but laugh at how she basically drooled over Luke. While Luke usually flirts with everyone, most of us know this and ignore him. Poor Charlie fell into the charm as she giggled and blushed. She is definitely crushing on him. Driving home I brought it up to Fi, and she just laughed and said he has that charming effect on girls.
The next week flies by. Not having any games, you would think practices would lighten up. NOPE. Coach is riding our asses much harder. It feels like we are living at the rink. When the weekend finally comes, I sleep almost all Saturday while Fiona is at her parents’. I finally get up so I can meet Penny for dinner.
I catch her up on life – Fiona confessing her love on New Year’s Eve, to which she responded, “About damn time!”
I guess she has known we were in love before we ever knew. I tell her about my dreams of a house and a dog, maybe even kids in a few years. We talk about the draft and my fears involving that. She is supportive and listens to everything, telling me to communicate with Fiona about the draft now so it doesn’t blow up in our faces when it gets closer.
Pen tells me about school and how her students are doing. She is apparently ready to start dating again after her dickhead ex. We make plans for dinner after the playoff game since it’s at home and our parents are coming into town for it.
Getting home, Fiona is in bed. She says isn’t feeling well and she falls asleep. She doesn’t wake up until late Sunday. I make her some soup and get her some Gatorade. We lay down on the couch to watch TV when she makes a run for the bathroom. I follow her, holding her hair back. Once she is done emptying her stomach, she brushes her teeth and crawls into bed. I get her some ginger ale and sit on the edge of the bed.
“Do you think it’s the flu?” I ask her. She looks up. “Yes, Z, it’s the flu,” she says, annoyed. “I take my pill religiously if that was your concern,” she follows up. “I didn’t say that. Please calm down. Even if that’s what it was, I wouldn’t be mad. I am already trying to convince myself not to overwhelm you by asking you to go house shopping and dog shopping with me,” I say sadly. “So please don’t make me out to be the bad guy. I was genuinely just curious.”
I drop a kiss on her head, and go to the couch.
I get up and comfort her every time she is sick in the night. I call out of practice to take care of her. But things are still tense with us. I sleep on the couch, only going in to give her soup or drinks or hold her hair back. By Tuesday morning she is feeling better, so I go to class and practice. We still have barely talked. I text her, letting her know I am crashing at Luke’s tonight. Then I turn my phone off, pulling up to his apartment.
He lets me in without question and gets me a beer. After we sit in silence a bit he finally says, “I am grabbing you another beer, then we are going to talk about why you are here and my sister is alone at your apartment. I want to ask if you hurt her, but from the look on your face, I think she hurt you.”
I down half the second beer before spilling my guts about everything. The dreams of a house and dog, the way I felt when she talked to me like I was the villain, when I have always treated her like a goddess.
“Not that I want a baby right now, but I have never given her any reason to doubt my feelings for her. Or my plans to have a future together, including kids. It just hurts that after all the things I have said and done, she still thinks I would be that horrible,” I say with tears in my eyes. How embarrassing. I am crying over his sister on his couch. “I am sorry. Fiona isn’t great with feelings; I am sure you know that. But I don’t think it’s an excuse to hurt you, either. Stay here a few days and let things calm down,” he says, slapping me on the back.
I turn my phone on in the morning to a few texts from Fiona and a missed call. All were nice, with her apologizing for hurting me. Her last one asked me to come home. I send her a text letting her know I am going to stay here another night, we can talk when I get home, and that the time apart will be good for us to collect our emotions. I get up to head to class and then practice.
Class goes well; it’s a cake class. I head to the rink, stopping for lunch. I know Fiona probably hasn’t fed herself, so I grab her food too. I swing by her office. She is meeting with someone, which is perfect.
“I just wanted to be sure you ate something,” I say, setting the food on the desk.
“Please excuse me,” she says to the person in the meeting. “Zane, wait up,” she says, following me out.
“Fiona, I need to get to practice,” I say without making real eye contact, but I lean in, giving her a kiss on the temple.
“Z, please,” she whispers.
“Fiona, please give me space. I have always given you space. I have let you leave. I have always let you take your time to think things through. I am just asking to hold off on this talk until tomorrow. I am not leaving you, I just need to sort my thoughts,” I say, heading to the locker room. Practice is fine, but I am definitely not focused. Changing to go home, Luke comes up. “Go home, Z. My place is always open to you, but you need her. You don’t need a beer or time away. You need Fiona,” he says.
He is right. I just need to talk to her. Letting this sit is only going to get worse. I get in my Jeep, grabbing Chinese on the way home, because the girl probably only had wine for dinner.
Walking into the apartment, I see Fiona on the couch drinking wine. Looking over, she just stares at me, not saying anything. “I brought Chinese. Let’s eat so we can talk on full stomachs,” I say, setting the food on the table. Halfway through dinner Fiona says, “How did you know I haven’t eaten?” I smile. “Well, I know you probably better than you know yourself. You forget to eat all the time. Add in anything emotional and you will go days forgetting food unless you are reminded. I told you I would always take care of you, hence the lunch and dinner. Even if we are not getting along, I still want to be sure you are taken care of,” I inform her.
We finish the rest of dinner in silence. After we clean up, we sit back down at the table.
“What brings you home early?” Fiona says, trying not to show her hurt.
“Your brother made me realize that space and beer weren’t what I needed. I needed my sunshine. I needed you,” I state matter-of-factly.
I proceed to tell her everything: my dreams of a house and dog and future kids. A dream I had long before she got the flu. I tell her how badly it hurt being pushed away and spoken to like that when I have never given her an excuse to treat me that way. By the time I am done she is in tears.
“Don’t cry, Fi. I love you, please don’t cry,” I say.
“I am just so sorry for talking to you like that. I was sick and I just didn’t handle my feelings well. It’s not an excuse, though. I got defensive when you asked if it was the flu. I am sorry. I also want a house and a dog, and kids in the future. I will follow you wherever the draft takes you, Z. I knew that before this fight, but that just cemented in my heart the fact that I don’t want to be apart from you,” she confesses.
I scoop her up and kiss her.