Page 45 of Sven

“He’s a Hall of Famer, and he thinks I should be, too.”

She frowned. “That sucks.”

He nodded. “It does.”

“Are you good with Winnie?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

He disappeared down to the basement. Next to his gym, he had a movie room, where he could watch videos for the next day’s game. While he hated dealing with his dad, sadly, he was right. His game had been off all year, and he needed to figure out why. They had a game the following day before they would be leaving for a weeklong road trip. He needed to start playing better to get his dad off his back.

17

Natalie

Natalie’s heart was pounding as Sven disappeared down the stairs. The moment before his phone rang was electric. She really needed to find a way to reel in her feelings. Her life was a mess, and his seemed to be kind of, too.

But even knowing that, something about him made her want to know him better. Like why he went dark after his dad had called. It was probably for the best because it threw some water on the heat building between them, but she wanted to know why. She also wanted to make sure he was okay.

Winnie gave a little squeal and banged on her high chair tray.

“What do you say to a bath?” Natalie said as she stood and started getting Winnie ready for her bedtime routine.

Natalie went through the steps of bath time and bottles and stories and all of it with the look on Sven’s face after he’d gotten off the phone with his dad. After she laid Winnie down in her crib, she found herself making her way to the basement stairs.

She was just going to go tell him she was headed to the pool house. That was it. She was not checking up on him. At least that’s what she told herself as she opened the door and descended the stairs.

There was a grunt of exertion followed by a thud. She heard this over and over as she made her way to Sven’s home gym. As she turned the corner, he came into view. The sight of him stopped her in her tracks. He was there, standing in front of an area that looked like a mini hockey rink. His shirt was off... because of course it was, and he was hitting puck after puck into the net. The way his muscles rippled in his back was mesmerizing. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him.

As she watched him, she realized he had stopped moving. She looked up and caught his gaze in the mirror across from them. His smirk told her she’d just been caught checking her boss out.

She cleared her throat and averted her eyes.

“Did you need something?” he asked.

“Oh, ummm, I was just going to tell you Winnie is in her bed,” she said, still trying to divert her eyes.

He picked up his T-shirt from the floor and wiped the sweat from his brow before wiping it from his pecs and chest. And, fuck. She was looking at him again. And he was still smirking. Natalie’s heart was racing from panic and a lot of embarrassment, but she would be lying to herself, denying the arousal.

“I have to go.” She turned to quickly leave the room but ended up walking smack-dab into one of the support beams in the basement. It gave a thud as she whacked it head-on.

“Ouch,” she cried as her hands flew to her face.

“Fuck, Natalie. Are you okay?” Sven asked as he was immediately at her side.

He pulled her hands away from her face to examine her injuries, only to find her hands covered in blood. Immediately, he held the T-shirt, the one he’d just been wiping his sweat with, to her face. That should have been gross, but it wasn’t. But before her brain had time to pick a train of thought, Sven was guiding her upstairs.

He got her to the kitchen and swapped out the sweaty T-shirt for a kitchen towel before making her an icepack.

“Here, let me have a look,” he said as he pulled her hands away and inspected her nose. “It looks like the bleeding is slowing.” He went over to the tissue box, tore a piece off, and wadded it up into something akin to what she would call a nose tampon. “Here, put this in.”

She carefully put it in tender her nose.

“Now, hold this to your nose,” he said as he gently held the ice bag to her face. “I think you’ll be okay. I don’t even think you should have too much bruising,” he said, bending down and inspecting her.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

She wasn’t sure why she said it. Sometimes, apologies just came from being uncomfortable with her.

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