Chapter 23
Sven
twenty-three
. . .
The restaurant is a quiet bistro tucked into the North End. MacGregor didn’t blink when I asked for a recommendation, just gave me the name and clapped me on the shoulder.
I still don’t particularly like physical touch, but when Vanessa holds my hand or leans into me, I enjoy it. When the guys slap me on the back… I mean, I deal with it. Since I know it’s meant to show camaraderie, it doesn’t bother me as much as when there’s no reason for it.
And now… sitting across from Vanessa in the candlelight and with the soft music playing around us…
“Do you realize this is our first date?” she asks, a smile on her lips.
I jolt.
It is.
“Does that… bother you?” I venture carefully.
She cocks her head. “No, I don’t think so. We went about all of this backwards. So, I guess as long as we make an effort to do this going forward, I think it’ll be okay.”
“It’s been a long time since I went on a date,” I admit quietly.
“You know all about my last relationship.” She sips her wine. “When was yours?”
“It ended four years ago.” Right after she started working for the team and came back into my life. “I think she’s married to another hockey player now back home in Sweden. We don’t keep in touch.”
“Do you miss her?” It’s a landmine of a question, but her expression is open and inquisitive, like she genuinely wants to know, judgment-free.
“No,” I say honestly. “I haven’t thought of her in years, really.”
“And you haven’t dated since?”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t the right time.”
And since Vanessa had the whole no hockey players rule…
“Why did it end?”
“I thought I was happy,” I admit. “And then one day, I realized I was settling. I was fine, going through the motions, doing what I was supposed to do. Until I wasn’t. So when I went home, I ended it, and she moved out two days later.”
“And how long were you together?”
Pursing my lips, I try to remember. “A few years. We hadn’t set a date yet, and she wasn’t pushing for it, so I wasn’t sure why either of us were waiting. It just… wasn’t right.”
Vanessa stares at me. “Set a date? Like…”
“For the wedding.”
“You were engaged? And just… ended it? Like, you decided on your way to practice that she wasn’t right for you, and it had to end?” She gapes at me.
“Pretty much.”
I’d been walking into the training facility on a Monday morning when I smelled the scent of Vanessa’s floral perfume, and the memory made me instantly rock-hard—which is not a good thing when trying to lift heavy weights in the weight room. She went on a tour of the facility an hour later, stopping in the gym, and I nearly dropped the dumbbells in my hands when I saw her.
We left that night on a road trip. When we got back on Wednesday, and I saw her in the office talking animatedly with Jacky, I just—I knew.
When I got back to the apartment, I told Marika we should talk, and then I ended it. I couldn’t string her along. It wasn’t fair to her to pretend when I’d found what I actually wanted. Who I actually wanted.
The fact that nothing would happen with Vanessa was irrelevant. Marika deserved better than to be someone’s second choice.
“That seems… sudden.”
Calm and collected, I lift my shoulders in a simple shrug, though inside I’m vibrating with anxiety. My knee bounces uncontrollably under the table.
“When you know, you really know.”
“But then you didn’t date. You didn’t find someone else.”
“Because I knew what I wanted.”
Vanessa looks at me curiously over the top of her wineglass. “And what was that?”
You.
I can’t say that, though.
Can I?
I don’t know.
“Sven, what did you want?”
“I wanted something I couldn’t have,” I tell her carefully.
“And now?”
Gesturing between us with my hand, I exhale slowly. “Well, we’re here now, aren’t we?”
She narrows her eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“Your first day with the Grizzlies was Monday, September 13th,” I tell her.
“What does that have to do with anything? How do you remember my hire date?”
“Because I broke things off with Marika on Wednesday, September 15th.”
Vanessa stares at me.
Squaring my shoulders, I meet her eyes steadily.
“So you broke things off with your fiancée because…”
“I told you at the beginning of this, I have feelings for you.”
She blinks.
“I’ve never hidden that. You stated quite publicly that you would not date any of the team’s players. So I didn’t ask you out,” I tell her evenly. “That didn’t change anything for me.”
“But… you didn’t even know me.” She swallows. “You didn’t say anything to me.”
“We had a connection at the wedding, and I knew I wanted more. After… I needed some time to figure myself out, and then by the time I was ready, it was too late.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Figure yourself out?”
I lift a shoulder. “I didn’t want you to be a rebound, and if I’d jumped straight from her to you, that’s what it would have been reduced to. I think what we have—what we could have had back then—it was worth more than a fling.”
Vanessa’s eyes flutter a few times. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Is there anything to say? Can’t it just be… fact?”
She sips her wine, quiet. “If I hadn’t asked you to pretend, what would you have done?”
Die celibate, remembering our night together until the end of time.
“You set clear boundaries. You don’t date hockey players.” I swallow. “As much as I hope to have another few years to play, I would have reached out once my career ended.”
“You’d wait that long? You wouldn’t find someone else?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to them,” I shrug. “I don’t ever want to be someone’s second choice, and I would never push someone to be my second choice.”
“How do you know I’m the right choice?
“Because…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t like physical touch. In general, I’m fairly touch averse.”
Vanessa stares at me. “You play hockey.”
“In hockey, they don’t touch me,” I explain. “There’s hitting and checking, and sometimes there’s fighting, but there isn’t physical touch. The sensation of someone else’s hand on me makes my skin crawl. Even something as innocent as a handshake can set me off.”
Purposefully, I reach across the table, and I take her hand.
“I don’t feel like that with you. Even with other people I’ve been close to, women I’ve dated, family members… I didn’t like physical touch.” I squeeze her hand. “It’s not like that with you. I want the innocent physical contact when I’m with you.”
“So that’s why you’re always putting your arm around me or holding my hand,” she says quietly. She cocks her head. “Why don’t you like when I put my hand on your knee?”
Swallowing, I admit: “I like that a little too much.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh.”
“I’m not…” I exhale. “I’m not good with people. With explaining my thoughts. I don’t think the same way other people do.”
“You’re doing great,” she tells me. “I’m just… surprised. Processing.”
“Why haven’t you dated since you and Andrews…”
Vanessa pauses. “I didn’t want to let anyone get close enough to hurt me again. It was easier to keep things to one night only than risk getting hurt.”
The chaos of my brain goes quiet.
“He really hurt you.”
She nods. “We were talking about getting married, and then three weeks later, he dumped me. On my birthday.” She shrugs. “We… well, we talked.”
“Oh?”
“Last week. He told me some things that… well, I’ve had to reevaluate some things I’ve known for a long time.”
My eyebrows go up.
“I can’t share his secrets,” she adds quickly.
“I’d never ask you to betray his confidence,” I assure her. “I just want you to...”
To find closure. To find peace.
“I don’t hate him anymore,” Vanessa says quietly. “I carried the hurt around for a long, long time. But given what I know now… He wants to be my friend. And I don’t think that’s a bad idea.”
“He cares deeply about you.”
“I know,” she says. “Does that bother you?”
“No. Because if you wanted to be with him, you would be,” I tell her simply. “Instead, you asked me to pretend with you…”
Her face goes pink. “I did, yeah.”
“Why me?” I’ve always wondered. “Was it just because I was there?”
Vanessa stares at our clasped hands for a moment. “I knew I could trust you. You wouldn’t hurt me, not on purpose, and you wouldn’t take advantage of me.”
The thought makes me sick. “No. I would never—no.”
“I know,” she says quietly. She squeezes my hand. “I’ve always liked you, given our history, and I… I’m very glad that we’re here, that we are where we are.”
“Me, too,” I tell her, and her smile lights up my entire world like fireworks.
We might not have started this in the traditional way, but that doesn’t discount where we are. Or where we could go.