Page 70 of Pucking Strong

She nods.

“And I think there should be pictures of you with Morbror. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“And with you.”

The realness of this moment rocks me to my fucking core. In Sweden, Elin warned us what accepting custody of Karro would mean. But until now, I hadn’t fully considered the ramifications of inserting myself into her life. She doesn’t know this is all supposed to be temporary. All she knows is that her mother died. Then suddenly I appeared at her uncle’s side, ready to help them both pick up the pieces. Her trust in me is already steadfast, because her trust in Henrik is steadfast.

Holding her in this moment, crying with her, I know that no matter what happens between me and Henrik, I want to stay in Karro’s life. Ineedto stay. Rejection is too cruel. Kids don’t recover. Could I do that to Karolina? Could I swoop in on a rock star’s airplane, rip her from her life, promise her my love and attention, and then just walk away?

Fuck, I feel sick even thinking it.

Recalling her question, I kiss the top of her head again. “Of course we’ll get pictures of me and you. Don’t be silly. There’s gonna be more pictures of me on these walls than smelly Morbror. He’s not even that handsome.”

She giggles. “He is.”

“No, he’s not. I’m the handsome prince. Morbror Henrik looks like a shoe.”

That has her laughing harder. “No, heishandsome!”

“He looks like a penguin in a wig.”

“No! He’s like Hercules!”

Okay, fuck me. I’m not gonna picture Henrik as a stoic, bearded Swedish Hercules. My imagination doesn’t need that kind of kindling. Slipping off the side of the bed, I turn and reach for her. “You know what? I think he looks like Pegasus.”

She considers for a moment, clearly deliberating. It’s adorable. “Pegasus is pretty,” she accepts with a nod.

“Yeah … Pegasus’sbutt!”

This sends her into peals of laughter that echo as I bring her into the bathroom. The laughter continues while we play beauty salon, all the while comparing Morbror Henrik to animals’ hind ends.

With hockey back in my life, I feel grounded again. It’s a relief to have at least a few things under my control—my food intake, my workout routines, my sleep schedule. Sure, I may be sleeping in the guest room now, but the bed is comfortable.

At Teddy’s insistence, we moved the exercise bike out of my bedroom and into the living room. Honestly, I prefer it this way. Now I start each morning watching the sun rise over the river as I bike, stretching out my calves and regulating my circulatory system.

He thinks I haven’t noticed the other changes he’s making, but I do. How am I supposed to ignore new bookshelves? Just last night, I signed for a trio of boxes that arrived from a home goods store. Do I know why we needed a fruit bowl or a decorative wooden tray? No. And I’m not going to ask. If it makes him happy, Teddy can buy whatever he wants.

I can’t think about home decorations. With Karolina’s healthcare and education set, I can only think about hockey. We’re officially one day out from our first game of the season. It’ll be a home game against the New York Islanders.

Despite my time in Sweden, I haven’t lost my starting position. I’m still holding the line with Langley and Lindberg. We skate well together. Langley is fast, and Lindberg makes a great center. He’s quick and decisive, always willing to pass the puck. He has one of the highest assist rankings in the NHL. I was glad when the Rays traded him in from the Golden Knights.

“Are you ready, Mr. Karlsson?” The ESPN producer leans in, smiling in my face.

All thoughts of this morning’s drills flash from my mind as I look up. “Yes.”

They’ve been rearranging the lights for the last ten minutes. All the while, Teddy and I have sat side by side on this leather sofa, silently waiting. He’s wearing my favorite cable-knit sweater again. His hair is down, framing his face. They put a powder on his cheeks that dulls some of his freckles. I don’t like it.

I feel like I’m all elbows, sitting here in my favorite navy-blue suit. Poppy made me take off the tie. She said no tie made me look more approachable. Any second now, the reporter will start asking us questions. Teddy has been quizzing me on our answers whenever we’ve gotten a spare moment. Just last night, he charged into the bathroom while I was neck deep in the tub, shouting, “What if they ask if we kissed at the wedding? Do I lie? Oh, this is so fucking fucked!”

The story is that I pursued him. I invited him to Sweden, where we rekindled our friendship (and started our romance). We decided to leave in the part about me proposing in the hospital cafeteria. Poppy says it’s more believable if we weave in as many real aspects as possible.

“Okay, if you’re both ready, we’ll get started,” says Janine. She’s nice enough. Pretty and polished, she sits in the chair across from us, one camera angled on her.

Poppy set this all up in one of the corner offices at the practice arena. Behind us, there’s a great view of downtown. It’s golden hour, and the lighting is perfect. We need to do this quickly, before the light changes.

I glance over at Teddy. He keeps tugging at the neck of my sweater. And his new nervous tic is spinning the ring on his finger. I glance down at my own ring. It’s a simple band of yellow gold. Since I put it on, I’ve hardly noticed it. I have to take it off during practice, but slipping it back on before I shower already feels like a habit.

For Teddy, it’s apparently a distraction, an itch he can’t help but scratch.

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