Page 2 of Sven

“Sven,” someone called. He turned to see a familiar-looking woman with long dark hair. She had tried to talk to him earlier, and he had very pleasantly excused himself. “Can I talk to you?”

“I was just about to head out,” he said, giving her a polite smile.

“I really need to talk to you.”

Sven didn’t like the look on her face one bit.

“Do I know you?” he asked, eyeing her.

While there was something familiar about her, he couldn’t place her. He was pretty sure they’d never hooked up; she wasn’this usual type. She was dressed fairly modestly, and he usually took the flashier bunnies up to his room. He was only in this for a good time, not to settle down.

“Umm . . . yeah?—”

Then he saw it. A commotion by the door. He had been hoping to find a woman to take home and head to the room he’d reserved upstairs... but that would have to wait.

His dad had just arrived.

That was one thing about Sven. He was part of hockey royalty. His dad was going to be inducted to the Hall of Fame. In fact, their last game at Madison Square Gardens had been followed by a ceremony where they lifted his father’s jersey into the rafters. He had invited his dad at the organization’s behest, but he didn’t think he would actually show up... It would appear he was wrong.

“Excuse me,” he said to the woman as he walked over to greet his dad.

1

Sven

Air rushed by as Sven made his way down the ice. The puck hit his stick as Taylor set him up for the perfect shot, and he sent it straight into the net before the goalie even know what hit him. Their team huddled around him on the ice, enveloping him and tapping his helmet. He lived for moments like this.

The buzzer sounded twenty seconds later, and the boys all lined up to thank the goalie before disappearing into the locker room. While getting the game-winning goal wasn’t new to Sven, it was still his favorite feeling in the world.

“Good job out there tonight, boys,” said Coach Wagner as he walked into the room. “Way to get the win. You really put the pressure on them out there, and your hard work showed. Have a little fun, but let’s do the media and get on the bus. We are headed to Texas in the morning.”

Sven bent down and unlaced his skates.

“You’re on for media tonight,” Coach Wagner said as he walked by Sven. “Nice goal out there.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

Sven did an interview, got changed, and headed out to the bus. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out.

Peter Olsson: That was a sloppy goal.

He shook his head and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He’s just off a holiday break he’d spent with his family. Most guys had come back refreshed and ready to go... Sven, on the other hand, had come back with more tension. When your dad is an NHL Hall of Famer who expects the same of you, family gatherings have a little more pressure.

He wanted to text back, but it’s still a winning goal, but what would be the point? His dad would still pick it a part in the name of an honest critique. So, instead, he just climbed onto the bus.

They would be leaving in the morning to go to Texas for their next road game, and he knew most of the team would be resting, but he decided to hit the hotel bar. As he boarded the bus, he scanned for a wingman. Usually, it would have been an easy choice, but over the summer, Cash went and got a girlfriend, so there went the best wingman to have ever had the job.

Sven sat by Niko. “Hey, man, you gonna hit up the hotel bar?”

“Not tonight,” he said in his thick Russian accent. “Try the rookie.” He motioned over to Murphy.

“Murph, what do you say? Hit up the bar with me?”

“Me?” he asked, pointing to himself in surprise.

“Yes, you. Do you wanna do a little bunny hunting?” He wagged his eyebrows.

“Don’t call it that,” said Cash, throwing a wadded-up napkin at him.

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