Dirty Swedish Player: A Big Stick Novel Read online

  “Oh, honey, your life is just fine. Yes, he may have made some bad choices that had an impact on you, but I think it’s only made you stronger. Besides, if you’d stayed in Minnesota, you would’ve studied something your dad wanted you to. You know how he is with wanting to control everyone and everything.”

  I bury my head in my hands. “You’re right. I’m lucky.” My dad pays my tuition for a private university. He pays because he feels guilty about what happened with Nils, considering it was his idea. When I left, he could have completely cut me off, but he didn’t and for that I am grateful.

  Aunt Becca sighs. “Look, I get it. It’s never fun bumping into an ex—or a fake ex. The fact that you have friends in common just adds to how much it sucks, but when life throws you lemons you make lemonade. You don’t cower and run,” she says, pressing her lips together in a sympathetic smile.

  “Make lemonade, huh?” I smile and stand from the table to give her a hug. “Thanks, Aunt Becca.

  “Anytime, sweets. Now come sit down,” she says, waving me back over to the kitchen table. “I just got a whole shipment of stones in; we need to make magic.”

  The kitchen table is covered in exotic looking gems and wires. While I was living here, she taught me to make custom jewelry for her souvenir shop.

  I take a seat at the table and we get to work. If anything, I find designing jewelry relaxes me.

  “You’ll be fine,” she says, looking at me over her glasses.

  I hope she’s right because the rehearsal dinner is tonight, and my heart is already beating a mile a minute.

  Three

  Nils

  I got released on bail. I’m being charged with public misconduct, since there isn’t enough evidence for assault. The women I was with didn’t say anything negative about me because they are apparently die-hard fans. Matt told the police that the guy jumped me first and smashed my face in. The bruises forming around my eye and cheek are proof enough. My attorney thinks I’ll likely get off with one-year probation or community service. I head home to shower after spending the night in a crusty cell.

  As I leave the bathroom, my cell rings. I’m not in the fucking mood to speak to anyone, but one of my best friends’ name lights up the screen, so I answer.

  “Hey man.”

  “Where are you? There is a fucking shit storm going down after what you pulled last night,” Oli says. I texted him on my way home that I was released on bail.

  “I needed to shower. I’ll be there soon.” My body aches and my head is pounding.

  “You better get here fast. Coach knows what went down. It’s all over the internet.” His voice is taut and clipped.

  What? The internet? How? My stomach sinks.

  “Hmm?”

  “There’s a video circulating of you fucking some random chick . . . in a bathroom,” Oli booms. My world stills as his words process. Fuck, I thought she may have gotten a picture. All I cared about was getting off. I was too drunk to care. A video? Fuck me. Adrenaline spikes in my veins, causing me to feel dizzy. I grab the wall. This is even worse than I thought. Those chicks from the bar set me up. I don’t remember seeing them before. The usual bunnies hang out at the clubs we usually do.

  “Karlsson, why would you pull shit like that? Weren’t you out with Matt?” The mention of my teammate causes remorse to blanket me like a sheet of armor. Fuck, I feel sick. My stomach churns in a bad way.

  “I just wanted to get laid, not cause a shit storm,” I say.

  “Look at your damn phone then get the hell down to the arena. We have practice. I just wanted to warn you that Coach has been talking to the senior managers for the past half hour. You’re in big shit,” he says.

  I’ve finally done it. I’ve fucked up so bad that they are going to boot my ass from the team. After all my hard work. I will be a loser like my father.

  “Thanks for the warning. I owe you.” I sigh.

  “Yeah, man. This is way over the top, even for you. Fuck, Nils, my rehearsal dinner is tonight. You’re a fucking groomsman. My wedding is two days’ away. This is not the kind of drama I need right now,” Oli continues. “As for the team . . . we haven’t even started the season. We need to make our mark in a positive way.”

  “You’re right.” I rake fingers through my hair, defeat sitting heavy on my chest. “I’m going to get ready and head over. I’ll apologize. I’ll smooth it over and I will definitely be at your rehearsal dinner tonight. You know I’ll be there for you, right?” I ask, my chest feeling tight. Oli has been a good friend, and I don’t have many friends.

  “Nils, I don’t think you get how much shit you’re in. Just get down here,” Oli says flatly.

  I head downstairs and make a protein shake, and head to the arena.

  “Karlsson,” Coach’s angry voice booms and stops me in my tracks.

  I turn.

  “Get in my office now!” He snarls. His face is red, his lips are pinched, and his brows are furrowed. He may actually have steam puffing from his nostrils.

  I don’t think I’ve fucked up this badly, ever.

  I enter his office. Mike Wilson, one of the senior managers, is sitting in a chair. Daria Jacks, one of the media relations advisors, sits in the chair next to him.

  Fucking hell.

  “You’ve really messed shit up, Karlsson,” Mike’s eyes narrow to slits as he stares me down. “Public fucking misconduct.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they knew who I was,” my voice is wobbly and strident. “I haven’t been accused. The defense attorney is going to try to strike a deal with the DA.”

  “I’m disappointed, Karlsson,” Coach says. “We’ve given you chance after chance because you bring it on the ice, but fuck . . . you get into too many damn fights. Having you sitting in a penalty box isn’t worth our while. And now, with this latest stunt . . .” Coach swipes a hand over his mouth.

  I’ve never seen him like this—fuming, disappointed, and maybe even defeated. He’s been more than a coach to me. He’s been a father figure.

  “Coach, I’m sorry. It won’t—”

  “Karlsson, we’re thinking of terminating your contract,” Mike says point-blank as he stands.

  My heart skips a beat.

  The middle-aged man stands and puts his hands in his pockets as he paces back and forth. His thick brows are drawn tight. He looks like he’s contemplating the end of the world. That being my professional career.

  “You’re a liability to the team. Your teammates are beginning to settle down. Some already have. They are having babies and that’s a good thing. It creates a nice wholesome image for the Blackhawks. You’re throwing away a career that other guys would die for. You just don’t appreciate what you have, and if you’re accused, you can be suspended from the NHL,” Mike goes on.

  Fuck, he’s right. I don’t know how to stop the stupid shit I do.

  “I fucked up. I’ll do better. No more drinking. No more women. Please don’t terminate my contract. One more chance. My attorney is hoping I get off with some community service.” I’m clearly not beneath begging as my heart pounds in my chest. “Please, Coach. Hockey is all I have,” I plead, knowing how pathetic I sound. The guys on the team have become my family. I spend holidays with Oli, Myles, and Dave. If I get fired, what will I do? I know the guys won’t end our friendship, but if I’m not their team mate it won’t be the same, and what would I do with my life?

  Panic beats hot and heavy inside me. Coach’s lips pinch together, he can’t even look me in the eyes. He stares at Mike and some sort of understanding passes between them.

  Daria, the media relations advisor, stands. “You need a new image, Nils, a complete makeover,” she says, waving her manicured nails in my face. Her long dark hair sways down her back as she speaks animatedly.

  “I agree,” I say, without knowing what she wants.

  She laughs and shakes her head. “You need to stop drinking. You need to stop going to clubs. You need to lay low. Get a girlfriend and settle
down.” She says it like that’s an easy thing to do. I can’t imagine how that’s going to happen. I’ve never wanted something serious with a woman.

  Wait. That’s a lie. I fucked up my chances at settling down with the only girl I ever wanted. Sierra. I always fuck up; it’s expected of me.

  “Will do. No drinking and find a chick,” I agree. Even though I’m not sure how this is going to go down.

  “Just a minute here, Karlsson,” Mike holds up a hand. “If we agree to this, you’re on probation. One fuck up and you’re out.” He points his thumb towards the door. “Do you understand? That means no fighting on the ice and no fuckups off the ice. We want you to attend anger management with a therapist approved by one of our MDs.”

  Fuck, they have me by the nuts.

  “Okay, Mike.” I grind my jaw as my anger rises. I want to punch him in the face.

  “I mean it, Nils. You’re a liability. We aren’t going to keep you around unless you can prove your worth. And I don’t need to tell you the consequences if you do get terminated,” he says. I know . . . I won’t find a job with another team. I’ll be considered too high-risk, and that’s if I don’t get suspended by the NHL.

  “Deal.” I nod.

  Coach walks over and shakes my hand. “Now get your ass ready for practice.”

  I stand to leave.

  “Nils,” Daria calls after me.

  I turn. She saunters over to me in her tight, little black dress that clings to her body like a glove. “I’ll be sticking around to watch you. Get moving on the relationship front. We need to clean up your social media image ASAP,” she says assuredly, but her cheeks flush. Why is she flushing? We’ve spoken before. “I’m thinking some quiet nights in with a lady. Take some couple shots show the public your budding romance, be consistent and for goodness sakes show commitment. Oh!” she presses her pointer finger to her lips then points it at me. “Please make sure you have a really good story about how you met the girl and what made you fall for each other. We need to go hardcore if we are going to make this work.” She gives me an assured nod.

  Is she for fucking real?

  Is she offering herself up for the job? Not only is she not my type, but I’m not messing with someone who works for the team. Her eyes drop to my junk. What the fuck? I have the urge to cup myself just to keep her from checking me out. This is fucking weird.

  “Sure thing. Get a girlfriend and post about all kinds of cheesy shit on social media.” I force a smile.

  She lifts her gaze from my crotch. “Good. Glad you’re paying attention.”

  How am I supposed to find a girl to fall in love with so easily?

  “Of course.” I nod. My job is on the fucking line.

  “You have yourself a good day.” She turns away. Okay, so I had that wrong. She wasn’t offering herself up as a sacrificial lamb.

  “Yeah, you too,” I mutter. I head to the locker room to get ready for practice.

  After practice, Matt comes up to me and asks me how I am doing. He tells me Coach gave him shit and took him off babysitting duty. I tell him the managers put me on probation and want me to find a chick to settle down with.

  “It should be easy man,” he says, clearly reading my distress over the situation.

  “I don’t attract women that want to settle down. Women with dollar signs in their eyes are after me, or the ones that want to score with a NHL player,” I say, as we make our way back to the locker rooms.

  “It’s a tough life, Karlsson,” he claps me on the back. I was hoping for some better advice from him.

  I’m taking off my gear next to my locker when Oli walks over to me with Myles, his best friend and soon to be brother-in-law.

  “What happened with Coach?” Oli asks.

  “I’ve got to tone shit down. I’m on probation. They want me to find a girlfriend.” I scoff.

  “Okay, well you’re coming to the rehearsal dinner tonight, right?” he asks, for the tenth time.

  “Yeah, man. Told you I wouldn’t miss it,” I say, with my brows pinched.

  Myles laughs, chuckling so hard his shoulders vibrate. I glare at him.

  “He’s nervous.” He points his thumb at Oli. “He’s meeting Sloane’s mother tonight for the first time. He wants everything to go over smoothly. Sloane’s been on edge and Quinn hasn’t been sleeping through the night,” Myles explains, talking about Oli’s six-month-old daughter.

  “Ah! Got it,” I say, as if I now understand why Oli is acting like a loon. Who cares if he’s meeting his future mother-in-law?

  “Sloane has some friends coming tonight. They are bridesmaids; you’ll be walking with one of them. Maybe you can meet someone tonight,” Oli suggests, as if it’s no big deal to meet a girl and settle down. He has clearly forgotten all about his days as a bachelor. I don’t think I even know how to be in a relationship.

  “Don’t worry, man.” Myles claps me on the shoulder. He must have read my distress.

  “Yeah okay.” I nod. I have to meet a woman and go for therapy. No problem at all.

  It should be as simple as a power play.

  Four

  Sierra

  Since Mom left when I was little, I always pictured myself having a different mom and dad. A picture-perfect couple who fell in love in the most romantic way possible and built a life together.

  My fantasy doesn’t exist. I’ve basically given up on love, which is an ironic thing to think as I stand at the entrance to the hall where Sloane and Oli will exchange vows this weekend.

  Walking into a party alone is my pet peeve, but it seems to be a consistent pattern with me. My high school persona of “loner with no friends or boyfriend” seems to follow me wherever I go.

  I smooth out the jumpsuit my roommate, Sunny, lent me. It’s a fitted royal blue number with a cut-out exposing my back. I figured it would be perfect for a rehearsal dinner.

  Sloane is one of the few friends I’ve made since moving back to Chicago from Minnesota. She’s marrying her long-time crush and the love of her life, Oliver Russell, forward for the Chicago Blackhawks. Most of the team will be here tonight because they are groomsmen.

  Hanging around famous hockey players makes me anxious. More like one specific hockey player makes me nervous. Every time Nils and I are in the same place, he tries to talk to me. He thinks his apology will matter. It won’t. Whatever happened between us happened long ago. I don’t want to dredge up the past, even though seeing him again reminds me that my wounds haven’t healed over yet.

  I scan the room. This is one heck of a fancy place. The wedding hall has a glass wall that opens to an outdoor garden for the ceremony. A couple of tables are set up in the large hall; I’m assuming they’re for tonight’s dinner. Only family, bridesmaids, and groomsmen are attending the rehearsal dinner. I’m glad we get to practice walking down the aisle because I’ve had nightmares two nights in a row about stumbling over my own feet and making a spectacle of myself.

  The thought makes my gaze drop to my beige stilettos. Please keep me steady.

  “Sierra! I’m so glad you’re on time.” Sloane walks up to me in a form-fitting, off-white dress. Her dark hair is lifted off her neck and she’s wearing eye make-up that make her green eyes look slanted and cat like. She only had a baby six months ago and her figure is exactly what it was before she had Quinn. “Everyone is late.” She waves her hand in front of her face like she’s fanning herself. “Flynn just got the kids into the car and there are only a few guys from the team here. Why can’t they be on time? Why?” Her lips tremble and her eyes look glossy.

  “Sloane, take it easy.” I take a step toward her and rub her back. “Everything is going to be fine. You look beautiful, by the way.” I smile. “Where’s the little munchkin?” I ask, looking around the room.

  “Oli is burping her while walking around. I just finished breastfeeding her because I didn’t want to leak all over my dress.” Her gaze drops to her boobs. “Phew, I’m good. Quinn is tired and cranky and I’m starting t
o sweat.” She waves her arms beside her as if they are wings flapping in the air while breathing fast.

  “Deep breath. You and Oli have got this. You and Oli love each other so much. This is just sealing the deal.” I wink, hoping to alleviate her nerves.

  She touches her stomach and her mouth turns down in a grimace, as she leans in to my ear. “My mom and dad are going to be in the same room together for the first time since my mom left. I know my dad will keep his cool but who knows what can come flying out of Mom’s mouth? I don’t want her freaking him the hell out. He needs to marry us,” she says, exhaling then inhaling quickly.

  Sloane’s mom is a sex guru and her father is a pastor. This should go over well. Not.

  “Sweetie, slow your breathing down before you hyperventilate. Trust me, I’ve done that to myself and it doesn’t feel great. Just introduce me to your mom. I’ll keep her busy throughout dinner. Who knows? Maybe she’ll have some good dating tips.” I wink.

  Sloane’s eyes widen and she places a hand on my shoulder. “Babe, you need a good man after that cheating ex of yours, but trust me when I say you don’t want my mom’s help,” she sighs.

  “You’re right,” I shrug, remembering when Sloane came to work one day saying that her mom told her she had a hostile vagina because she was still a virgin. It sounded out there in left field.

  “Thanks so much,” Sloane’s voice brings me back to reality and reminds me that I just offered to babysit her mom. “You don’t know how much this means to me. Let me just head over to the seating cards and change Mom to your table.” She walks away like she’s on a mission.

  I walk deeper into the hall. Sloane warned me that Nils would be here tonight. She knows why I like to keep my distance. She promised I wouldn’t have to walk down the aisle with him, so that’s a definite bonus.

  A waitress walks by with champagne and I indulge in a glass. I’m not much of a drinker.