I laugh. "So how would you know how the date ends?"
"I’m assuming." I can hear clothes rustling. "I might have to ask my sister to be sure, but yeah. It’s at least a kiss."
"Are you getting naked?" I ask, stopping in my tracks in the middle of the stairway.
"Yes, I just got home. I don’t really like showering with my clothes on, so I have to get undressed, and I’m pent up and have all these hormones, so I might have to use my showerhead." My mouth hits the floor.
“Well, if this is going to be a phone sex call," I say, running up the stairs. "I’m here for it."
"Oh, no, you had your chance, buddy," she scolds, huffing out. "That train has left the station."
"I didn’t even know my train was in the station," I say honestly. "I want my train to go into your station." And I can’t help but laugh. I don’t think I’ve laughed this much before. Just being around her, I can’t help but smile and laugh.
"My station was open for your train, but instead, you decided not to roll it in," she says, her voice going up. "What do trains do when they just linger there not in the station?"
I close my eyes and rub my face with my hand. "No fucking clue, but can we get back to you being naked?"
"Sure," she answers, and I sit on my bed. "I’m really wet, and I am slipping in a couple of fingers."
I groan. "This wasn’t such a good idea," I mumble.
"Then I touched my clit," she counters.
"I’m going to let you go," I say, looking down at my cock. "Good night." I hang up before she says anything and then my phone pings in my hand.
I see she sent me a picture and it’s of her legs spread, but all you can see are her legs apart.
Fran: My train station is open.
Me: I’m going to google if we can die from blue balls.
Fran: You can’t. It’s just a discomfort.
Me: How did you know that?
Fran: I can’t tell you all my secrets on the first date. Save this question for the next one.
Me: So there is going to be a next one?
Fran: Maybe. Time will tell. Good night, conductor.
I laugh and toss the phone over my shoulder and onto the bed. She’s hands down the most open person I’ve met. She has the best smile, and every single time I talk to her, I want to continue talking to her. I take a cold shower that night as my hand fists my cock, and I call out her name when I orgasm.
The next day, I get up and head over to the rink for the morning skate. I don’t text her even though everything inside me wants to, and when I slip on my suit jacket, I wonder if she will be at the game tonight. It’s a Saturday night, and usually, it’s full of families. I skate onto the ice and look up to see if I see her, and I don’t, which throws me off when I feel a sense of disappointment. No one has ever been to my games before. Even when I was younger, my mother would drop me off and pick me up at the curb. I think the only time she came with me was when I was drafted.
"Don’t forget. After-game get-together," Manning says, and I look over at him. "Across the street. Food and drinks paid for by Nico."
As soon as we touch the puck tonight, the other team is looking to hit us. We end up winning by three goals. During the third period, the other team pushes more and the hits are harder. When I finally get off the ice, I walk to the dressing room. I undress and pick up my phone, pulling up her name. The picture of her legs is on the screen when Cooper comes to stand beside me, and I fumble with the phone and turn around.
"Don’t worry there. I’m not interested in all the women you are texting," he says, and I want to tell him that I’m not texting women. I’m just texting the one, but I don’t have a chance before Nico comes into the room and starts clapping his hands.
"Good game, boys," he says with a smile. "I want to see everyone over at the bar." He looks at everyone, and all I want to do is call Fran and go home. Maybe I can persuade her to come to my house, or we can go and get a bite to eat somewhere.
Walking to the shower, I hold my head down to get the water to pulse down over my shoulders. I take longer than I should, hoping no one is left here. Except when I walk out, Cooper and Michael are there. "I literally can’t move." Michael gets up and grabs his jacket. "All I want is to go home."