Page 33 of Puck Me Twice
“I need rules,” Sven says simply. “In the absence of rules, I default to the norm.”
“I didn’t go to last night’s game, but I saw your goal in the second period,” I tell him. “We were out at a bar and I was watching the game on my phone.”
His forehead wrinkles. “We?”
“Me and my two roommates,” I explain. “Bex and I played lacrosse in college together, and she met Elsy in grad school. Bex’s brother is in the league and Elsy’s best friend plays, too.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Wyatt Whitney and Nick Mitchell.”
Sven lets out a low whistle. “I know Whitney. He’s formidable.”
“He’s a teddy bear for his little sister.” I shrug. “He used to buy us alcohol in college. Every time he came to visit, the fridge was magically full of beer and wine.”
“And Mitchell?”
“I’ve only met him once, when his team played Boston last year. He took Elsy and me out for drinks. He’s… fine, I guess.” I shrug. I hardly know the guy. “It’s kind of funny that the three of us all have hockey connections. We didn’t realize it at the time. I was already working for the team when Bex and Elsy moved to the city.”
He hums. I can’t tell what that means.
“Do you go back to Sweden every summer?”
“Only for visa requirements.” Sven frowns. “I don’t talk to my family much. They don’t like me.”
“Oh, I’m sure they—”
“My sister is a lawyer, and my brothers are doctors and in business,” he says. “I’m the disappointment.”
I gape at him. “You’re an elite hockey player.”
He shrugs. “So?”
“So you’re... like, you’re an amazing hockey player.”
“Athletics are nothing to be proud of,” he says. His voice lacks any tone or inflection.
“What the fuck? Who the hell told you that?” My voice is rising in pitch, and I have the strong urge to punch someone.
“Good baby girl,” Rupert says, staring at me.
“My father,” Sven says.
“Well, he can fuck right off,” I declare.
To my surprise, Sven quirks a small smile. “Yes. That is why I don’t go back to Sweden much.”
“Don’t you miss it?”
“Not terribly, no.” His voice is dry. “In the off season, I might go on holiday for a bit, but then it’s time to recover and prepare for the next season.”
“You don’t get a break?”
Even the Logistics team gets a few weeks off after the close of the season.
He shrugs. “I’ve never found anything I would rather do more than hockey.”
I stare at him, trying to ascertain if he’s being truthful, and I realize he doesn’t know how to be any other way.
