by Lainey Davis
I start crying again and Dr. Meyer walks around the desk. He puts a hand on my back and I really let it all out. I'm actually boo-hooing when he says, "Dahlia, I hope you know how much we value you here in the math department." I look up to meet his eyes, mine clouded with tears. I've never actually heard him say that and it feels overwhelming to know he cares about me.
"We want you to do well in life, Ms. Wardzinksi. There! Now I've even learned to pronounce your name. Surely that warrants a smile?"
I laugh. He hands me another tissue and I blow my nose and try to wipe up my face. Dr. Meyer pats my back again and hands me the folder from MIT. He says, "Why don't you go and share your news with Mr. Sweeney and see if he'll trade you a good luck kiss for one of congratulations."
I gather the folder against my chest and exhale. I bend to pick up my bag, thanking him for all of his help and support. He waves me on out the door. Without thinking my feet lead me toward the Earl, where the hockey team is finishing with practice.
Chapter Twelve
When I get to the hockey building, there's a group of sorority sisters hanging around the main door. They're all decked out in SCU gear, some of them even wearing jerseys with the hockey players' names on them. I see more than a few Sweeney fangirls.
I'm still wearing my sweaty clothes from crying in Dr. Meyer's office, and one of Neal's sweatshirts from the floor in my room. I feel shabby and under-dressed, so I hang back when I see the doors open. The guys, all freshly showered and smiling, walk out en masse. I remember now that they are headed to nationals, and their excitement is obvious.
The sorority girls flock the team. I see Tyler and Smith getting friendly with a few of them, but I smile when I notice that Neal seems uninterested in their attention. I step closer to the group and Neal sees me. Our eyes lock, his a bright blue that's unreadable.
He waves at the sorority girls and walks over to me, stopping a few feet away. I want to jump into his arms, share my news, hold him. But I just stand frozen, taken back to how I felt when Coach Thomas walked in on us in the arena.
"Hey," he says. "You missed my game."
I nod. "I know. I'm really sorry about that."
"I called you a hundred times that weekend."
We stand in silence for a few minutes, and I take his hand. "Neal, I know what you wrote to Dr. Meyer." My voice catches and I start crying again. "He told me he thinks you're romantic."
Neal grins, but his hand is stiff in mine. He asks, "So did you get fired?"
When I shake my head, the tears really start flowing. The breath I'd been holding all semester, probably the past four years, charges out of me. I don't have to worry any more about my dad signing forms that affect my financial status. I can pursue my dreams in graduate school on my own merit. "He knows about us and it's…it's ok for us to be together. If you want." I bite my lip, not sure what to expect next.
He exhales and starts talking, squeezing my hand now reassuringly. "I wanted to say so many things to Coach Thomas that day, Dahlia. I wanted to tell him…I should have told him…" He picks up my chin and looks at me. "Dahlia, I'm in love with you."
I blink, because I am not sure that I heard him properly. "What?" I say, my voice quiet.
He kisses my hand, my cheek. "I said I love you."
Just like that I'm crying again. I can't believe he's saying the words I've been so hungry to hear. I never let myself believe I could love anyone, but I knew I was in love with Neal Sweeney. And then I never imagined that it was possible he loved me back. "I love you, too," I sob. Neal pulls me into his body and holds me as I fall to pieces.
In the course of a few hours, my world went from an uncertain landscape to a clear path forward. I know where I'm going and I know who will be by my side while I get there. Unless--"Neal, did you get in trouble for…because of us?"
He scoffs. "Did you even watch the game?" I shake my head again. "I scored 3 goals, Dahlia. In a playoff game." I look at him blankly and he smiles wide. "I can probably do whatever the hell I want, babe." He strokes my cheek and I feel weak at his touch. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed him the past few torturous days, where I'd been plagued by uncertainty.
Neal pulls me in then for an embrace and I cry into his shoulder. He leans his chin on my head and says, "Babe, you're not looking so good. Want to tell me what happened?"
And so I tell him. I tell him about my GRE scores and the meeting with Dr. Meyer and MIT. And he laughs--a joyful, relieved sound. Neal lifts me into the air and spins around. "Dahlia! That's amazing!"
"It is! It is, right?" I stop crying at last and lean back into his strong arms as he keeps twirling me in the parking lot. I start laughing with him as he pulls me higher and kisses me deeply. We only break apart when we hear wolf whistles and cheers from the team, who have now migrated closer to us.
I bite my lip and hide my head in Neal's shoulder, his wild curls tickling my ear and his massive arms holding me tight. "Let's go celebrate," he says.
I remember Jeremy's text from earlier. When Neal sets me back on the ground I touch his shoulder. "Can we go meet my friends at the Tap Room?"
"Anything my girl wants," he says.
~~~
I've never walked into a room with a guy's arm around my shoulders before. When Neal and I walk in to the bar, I spy my friends in the back corner. Linda--who I forgot to update after my meeting with Dr. Meyer--leaps from her seat and runs over to me.
"Dahlia!" she shouts. "What the hell is going on?" She looks from me to Neal, to his arm around my shoulder. He kisses my cheek and she asks, "Did you get shit-canned?"
People are staring at us now, and Linda pulls me over to the table in the back corner, where Tim and Jeremy are sitting with a pitcher of beer. I squeeze Neal's hand and ask, "Is there room for my boyfriend?"
Linda actually starts clapping her hands, although Jeremy looks like he swallowed something sharp. I tell them all about the teaching fellowship at MIT and they procure another pitcher of beer. Even Jeremy pats me on the back in congratulations.
An hour later, Neal slides his hand up my leg under the table. I look over to him and see his eyes are dark. His hand is more insistent until I slide my glass across the table and tell Linda I need to get going. "I have some stuff I need to take care of tonight," I say. Linda smiles and waves me off.
She grabs my hand and whispers, "I'll sleep at Tim's tonight so you can be as loud as you want."
I don't even have time to feel embarrassed as Neal pulls me across the street to my apartment. When we get inside, he says, "We have a lot to do tonight, Dahlia." He starts peeling off his clothes in the living room as he walks toward the bedroom.
Tipsy and high on the promise of the future, I laugh and follow suit. I chase him down the hall and shove him down onto my bed. Neal lies back, fully nude, and I run my hands along his beautiful body. I stand next to the bed in my bra and panties and strip for him slowly, teasing as I take off my clothes and toss them onto the floor.
All my inhibitions are gone as I stand in front of him tweaking my nipples. "God, Neal, I've missed the feel of your cock inside me."
"Fuck, baby, you need to talk this way more often," he says, pulling me toward him. I climb on top of Neal, straddling his body and gliding my slick folds along the length of his erection. I pull his hands up to my breasts and moan as he kneads and pinches.
I lean my head forward to kiss him, claiming him with my mouth. My tongue reaches deep into his mouth and skirts along his teeth while his fingers roll my nipples into stiff, aching peaks. Breaking the kiss, I push one breast into Neal's mouth while I continue rocking my hips along his body.
I feel his tongue, warm and wide, lapping at my nipple. His hands remain on both breasts, gripping the sensitive flesh. Neal begins to alternate licking my nipples, sucking hungrily at one before popping off and lavishing attention on the other.
Suddenly I am overcome by the need to feel him inside me, and I raise myself up. As I begin to slide down onto the stiff tip
of his cock, Neal reaches out to stop me. "Dahlia, wait. I don't have a condom."
I shake my head. "I have an IUD Neal, and I haven't had sex without a condom before. Ever."
His face is concerned, and I remember his origin story. "I won't get pregnant." I kiss him. "I want to feel you inside me, with nothing between us." I rock my hips again, lowering ever so slightly down onto the silken tip. A moan escapes his throat and he swallows. I watch the large Adam's apple slide up and down and lean in to kiss him.
"Dahlia," he whispers into my mouth, and I sink down until every inch of him slides inside me. I'm so wet that his hard stick glides along my skin like rain down a windowpane. His shaft is smooth as ice, but hard as marble in the moist heat of my pussy. "Fuck, baby," he says. "That feels so good."
His hands move around to my ass as I begin to ride him. I start with my hands braced on his shoulders, moving my hips faster and grinding my clit against his pubic bone with every stroke. I adjust my legs so my feet press into the mattress. I'm squatting above Neal's cock now, plunging down onto him hard as his hands help support my weight.
I bounce up and down on top of him, my tits swinging and my thighs burning until I feel my release building like a wildfire inside my core. "Neal, I'm so close," I say between breaths. "I need you to touch me. Please," I beg him as I continue to ride his dick.
He slides a hand between my legs, the pads of two fingers finding my clit and gently pressing in a slow circle. Neal sits up half way, supporting his weight on one forearm while the other hand massages me. The change in angle is all I need until I'm screaming his name, erupting on top of him, barely hearing the slap of our bodies joining.
My heart is still racing and my legs feel week when Neal lifts me off his lap. He stands up with me, and we frog walk across the room to the mirrored closet. Neal kicks a stool in front of the closet door and sets my feet on top of it. He's so tall that I'm still a half foot shorter than him, even standing on the stool. "Turn around and face the mirror, Dahlia," he says. His low voice rumbles against my body and I feel it vibrate all through me.
Still drunk from my orgasm, I comply. I lean my forehead against the mirror and get a thrill when I can see his reflection behind me. His eyes are wild with lust as he lifts my arms up, spreading my fingers open against the glass beside my head. Neal presses me against the mirror until my breasts are crushed against the cold surface. I feel his hands sliding down the sides of my body and reaching around to massage my thighs.
Neal is still rock hard and pressed against my ass on the stool, but I sigh when he spreads me open with his fingers and slides his cock into my pussy from behind. My breath escapes me with each of his thrusts. I peer into the mirror and meet Neal's eyes as he rams into me. I love the feel of his body against my back, the muscles of his chest sliding along the sweat on my back. "Does it feel good for you, baby?"
I can tell he's holding back, but I want all he has to offer. I want it rough and wild, to make up for the anguish of the past few days and burn off my elation at the resolution. "God, yes, Neal. Fuck me. Please." He redoubles his effort, moving faster. Neal withdraws almost entirely and then slams balls-deep with every thrust. I jerk my hips back to meet him, using my hands on the mirror for leverage. "I love it when you fuck me like this, Neal. Please."
He begins to suck on my shoulder, holding on to both of my hips as bangs into me. And then he meets my eye again in the mirror. He wraps one hand around my body so his fingers graze against my clit, but then his other hand begins spreading my ass cheeks. "Oh God, please. Yes, Neal."
As he continues to fuck my pussy, Neal slides his finger into my ass. I'm sandwiched between his solid arms while his massive cock invades my body and his finger begins it's journey into my most private place. Like before, I feel stretched in every possible direction. This time, with Neal entering me from behind, the experience is more intense. The dual penetration is too much. My knees start to give and I hear myself moaning from somewhere deep inside my soul. My head drops back against his body and I'm screaming, grunting with every thrust as his dick matches pace with his invading finger.
I feel my ass contracting against his finger, the waves of this orgasm spreading through my body until my pussy walls are milking his dick inside me. Somewhere in my consciousness, I become aware of Neal shouting my name. I'm seeing stars as the aftershock of my orgasm continues rolling through my body. And then I feel Neal cum inside me. Warm jets of him spurt inside me, milky and wet. He collapses against my back and we lean against the mirror until I feel his cum sliding down my legs.
Neal reaches a hand down between my legs, touching the aftermath of our efforts, and laughs softly. "That was so good. Dahlia, I never came that hard before."
I still can't talk, but manage to turn around in his arms and kiss him. He wraps his arms around me and holds me close, and I feel so perfectly content. I want to freeze this moment in time, when I feel so safe and so close to him. My body is still stretched from drawing him inside but when he kisses me, I know that nothing in the world can harm me in this moment.
He carries me back to the bed and we fall asleep in each other's arms, the words "I love you" the last I hear or speak before I slip into the deepest rest I've known in weeks.
~~~
By finals week, I'm so busy I barely have time to eat. I wake up at five each day with Neal, only instead of the ice I head to the math lab to work on calculations for my final projects. I stay there until my eyes start to cross with wariness each night, and Neal protests when I collapse into the bed beside him, too tired even to make love. I finally turn in the last paper for my logic class and rush over to the building where I know Neal will be sitting for his final exam.
He's been studying late into the night, scratching his playoff beard and throwing pencils at me as I try to reorganize his flash cards. But I promised Dr. Meyer I'd make good on my offer to give him a good luck kiss before the test, even though I'm confident he doesn't need it.
I wait for him outside the auditorium, perched on a bench wearing my new Sweeney jersey over the red pi shirt I want him to find later when he peels off my layers. When the doors open an hour later, he smiles, finding me sitting there. I raise my eyebrows in question and he pumps his fist before scooping me up into his arms.
I squeal in excitement for him, knowing this class was one of his final hurdles in his college career. As his hands grope me in the auditorium lobby, I urge him back toward his dorm. "You need to get your rest, Mr. Sweeney," I say, as he ignores me and begins sucking on my neck. "You have a national championship to win."
~~~
The day of the big game arrives, and I leave Neal and the guys to prepare. I head to the arena to sit with Gayle and the other hockey parents. I swell with pride as the announcer calls Neal's name in the starting lineup. His face shows up on the jumbo TV screen and they ask, "What are your plans for after the season?"
Video-Neal grins. "I gotta work on getting drafted by the Boston Saints. My girl will be at MIT."
Tyler's mom squeezes my shoulders. "You didn't tell us you're moving to Boston," she says. I smile at her and she gives me a knowing look as Neal skates forward for his recognition lap. It's his final game as a senior at SCU, and he knows he's up for the draft this spring. As he skates by our section, our eyes meet.
I mouth "I love you," to him and smile as he bangs on the glass and says, "I love you, too."
As the puck drops for the faceoff, I know, for maybe the first time in my life, that everything is going to be ok. Neal comes out with the puck and he's off, dashing toward the goal.
Epilogue
One Year Later
It's the last week of classes and I've decided to go easy on my freshmen calc students. Somehow they managed to figure out that I'm engaged to Neal Sweeney, rookie forward for the Boston Saints. Half the class shows up wearing Saints jerseys, pleading with me to skip homework so they can all watch the big game.
"Besides, Professor Ward," which they've all decided to
call me, "then you won't have so much grading tomorrow night and you can celebrate a big Saints victory. Am I right?" I roll my eyes at them, but assign only one set of problems, with harsh reminders that our final exam is next week.
I pack up my things and move to follow my students out of the room when I see a hulk of a man with wild, curly hair and bright blue eyes standing at the back of my classroom. I rush over to him, jumping into his arms for a kiss. "Neal! I didn't think I was going to get to see you today." He leaves our apartment early on game days to review video and spend time with the trainer. "Don't you have to be on the ice soon?"
He grins and pulls the classroom door shut behind him. I raise an eyebrow at him and he says, "I wanted to talk with someone about my angles first. Are there any formulas to help with my slapshot?" Neal drags a chair in front of the door and wedges it under the handle.