“Thank you.” I smile to the waitress and sip the very crisp and fruity champagne. Geez, this is good stuff.
Some guys I recognize from the team walk in, and behind them, I spot Nils in a white button down shirt. The cuffs of his sleeves are rolled up, revealing sinewy forearms and tattoos. He even looks hot in his slim fitting dress pants. My blood thrums quickly through my veins. I adjust the neckline of my jumpsuit, ignoring the prickle of sweat down my spine. Sloane was right about the room feeling a little too warm. I quickly turn away, so he won’t think I’m ogling him. That would be the last thing I need tonight.
I take a few slow breaths. Do not go and hyperventilate now. That boy does not need to see that he still has an effect on you. My inner dialogue is useless. I’m feeling woozy.
“Oh, there she is.” Sloane’s voice pulls me from my anxious state, reminding me that I need to play babysitter now. I turn around. A woman in her mid-fifties wearing some sort of white smock with wild black hair stands beside her.
“Hi.” I smile.
“Mom, this is my friend Sierra. Sierra, this is my mom, Carol,” Sloane says.
“Honey, you know I don’t go by Carol anymore,” her mom says in a chiding tone.
Sloane frowns.
“It’s Mata now.” Her mom smiles to me.
“Right, Mata,” Sloane repeats, like she’s chewing on a jaw breaker.
“Pleasure to meet you,” I say, offering my hand to shake. She grips my hand and doesn’t give it back. Instead, she closes her eyes and hums.
Sloane rolls her eyes. Why did I offer to babysit this woman all night?
“You’re very uptight,” her mom says, staring at me. I swallow my champagne wrong and cough.
“Darn it,” Sloane curses as she slaps my back. “You okay? Say something.” She smacks me again—hard. My body jolts forward.
“I’m good. I’m good.” I hold up my hand to stop Sloane’s assault. I take a small sip of the champagne to get rid of the scratch in my throat.
“Okay, phew.” Sloane palms her chest.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Nils walk by. I swallow hard, feeling butterflies flutter in my belly. I pull my attention away fast, my gaze landing on Mata watching me. Our eyes meet and she nods her head and blinks once.
“Well, if you two are good, I better go find the wedding planner,” Sloane says, looking between her mom and me.
“All good,” I say my voice too high pitched.
“Me, too,” her mom says. She speaks slowly, almost like she is emphasizing each syllable. Mata turns her attention on me, and I gulp, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. “Why don’t we take a seat at a table?” she suggests.
“Sure. Would you like some champagne?” I ask, because I know I’ll be needing another glass.
“Not yet. Come.” She takes me by the shoulder and guides me to our table. I sit beside her ramrod straight. What am I supposed to say to this woman? I have no good conversation starter off the top of my head. I’m not using to dealing with a mother. The only mother figure I had was Nils’s mom and that was short lived.
We sit in uncomfortable silence. Flynn walks over to the table and I stand to hug her.
“Hey there, beautiful,” she says. Her smile is wide and warm.
“You’re looking good, too.” I grin and look down at her twins Patty and Kev holding hands.
“Flynn, this is Mata. Sloane’s mom,” I say.
“Oh. Oh . . .” Flynn’s brows draw together as it seems recognition strikes. “Um . . .” She presses her pointer finger to her lips her brows furrowing.
“You look confused dear,” Mata says. “Sloane must have mentioned my name was Carol. I go by Mata now,” Sloane’s mother clarifies. She stands from her seat and envelops Flynn in a hug. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Her eyes drop to Flynn’s chest, which is voluptuous, like mine, and then back up to her eyes. She nods and it’s totally weird and freaky.
Flynn’s blue eyes turn round. “Uh . . . it’s very nice to finally meet you. This is going to be a great weekend,” she says awkwardly. I’m guessing that in her mind she is looking for a way to run far away from Mata.
“It’s lovely that you and my daughter will be sisters now,” Mata says slowly. Flynn nods to the rhythm of Mata’s slow cadence.
“It’s very exciting. I was praying for it for a long time and the day is coming soon,” Flynn palms connect and the warmth from her smile touches her blue eyes.
“Yes.” Mata nods and sits back down. She places her hands on the table, lacing her fingers together.
Flynn gives me a “what the fuck” look. I shrug. What else can I do?
“Well, I’ll catch you both later,” Flynn says, taking Kev’s hand. She dashes off to the next table where her husband, Myles, is sitting with some guys from the team.
Mata turns to me and watches me carefully. “So, tell me about yourself, Sierra.”
“I’m working on my Bachelor of Architecture. This is my last year. I’m originally from Minnesota, but I’ve been living . . .” Mata shakes her head.
“No, no, no,” she says. “Those are simple facts, not who you are.”
“Um . . .” I’m just as speechless as Flynn was moments ago.
“You’re insecure. Why is that? You’re beautiful,” Mata says matter-of-factly, then she just sits and watches me. I’m beginning to think she’s very stoned or that I have bigger mommy issues than I imagined.
“I, uh . . .” I adjust my glasses which have slid down my nose.
“It’s okay; you don’t have to share. We’ve only just met. Your aura tells me you have trouble achieving orgasm. Why do you think that is?” she asks easily, causing my jaw to drop. My chin tilts down and I stare at her, dumbfounded. I glance over my shoulder to see if anyone heard. There are tables all around us filled with guests but no one seems to be paying us any attention
“Oh, come on. It’s just sex. It’s a natural part of our being. We were made to get off,” she continues. I choke on my saliva and break into a coughing fit.
“Um, maybe we should keep this PG,” I say, blushing. I haven’t had a chance to meet everyone yet. Sloane has some family visiting from out of town for the wedding. I don’t need her entire family to know about my lackluster sex life. I look to my left to see a young boy, who looks no more than a tween, watching us, and judging by his wide smile, I’m guessing he heard the whole conversation. Just great.
“I can whisper,” Mata says redirecting my attention to her. “I don’t believe in chance. If you were seated next to me, it was for a reason. Let me help you.”
Yeah, we were seated together because I told your daughter I would keep you away from your ex-husband. Big mistake. I should make a run for it.
I smile. Sloane owes me big time. “Okay. I haven’t had the best of luck when it comes to men,” I admit quietly. The last thing I need is for Nils to walk by and hear my confession. I sip my champagne.
“I got the feeling your vagina was singular,” she says, throwing me off again. I make sure to swallow my champagne down the right tube this time.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask with all seriousness. If you can’t beat them, join them.
“You want one man,” she states simply.
“Yes, well . . . I’m a monogamous person,” I agree. “But still, even when I’ve been in monogamous relationships, I can’t seem to, you know . . .” I shake my head a little, hoping she gets the gist of what I’m saying. I place my hand over my mouth. I hope the entire table hasn’t heard about my orgasm issues. “Please, whatever you say next, please whisper.”
Mata laughs. “Okay.” She looks around the table.
“Hi, Aunt Carol.” A woman about my age walks up to Mata’s chair.
“My name is Mata now, dear,” she explains then waves like she’s the queen. Yup. Definitely stoned off her ass. She pulls her attention from the woman and turns back to me. The woman frowns. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” Her green eyes are indeed bloo
dshot. Sloane is not going to like this. On the positive side, the woman is super mellow, so I doubt she will be starting up any fights.
“They’ve started to bring out appetizers,” I say, noticing the table next to ours has been served their soup and salad.
“Oh good.” She rubs her hands together just as the waitress places a squash soup in front of us. We eat our soup and I lean into her.
“What did you mean before?” I ask.
“About what?” she says. She’s so high.
“About my vagina being singular,” I say so quietly, I hope she heard me.
“Right,” she says, putting a spoonful of soup in her mouth.
She glances over to the next table, and I follow it. When my gaze lands on Nils, my heart stops. He’s watching us, or maybe, watching me. I glance away. I don’t need him thinking anything when it comes to me.
When we first saw each other here in Chicago, I’d been invited to Flynn’s backyard Fourth of July party. I knew Myles and Nils were on the same team, but I hadn’t expected to see him there that day.
That was fifteen months ago. He’s tried to talk to me since—that’s the hazard of having friends in common. He wanted to explain himself about what happened back in Minnesota, but I didn’t want to hear it. He was an angry boy and that angry boy turned into a man with a bad temper.
I watch the games. I see him getting into fights. Old habits die hard. I don’t want anything to do with him. Except, I follow the team on Twitter. The sex tape that was posted was totally gross. Then someone zeroed in on his goods and now there is a pic of his dick circulating with the hashtag: bigstick. I can’t help that my curiosity has been piqued. A big stick could probably lead to a hell of a lot of orgasms, but I don’t truly know that to be the case. I’ve never had one.
“I may be high right now, but I am a perceptive woman,” Mata says pulling me from my thoughts. “You ogled him before. I watched your blood pressure rise. He’s got his eyes on you and he looks flushed. If you two get together, I’m pretty sure he will make you orgasm,” she says so definitively. The thought of Nils making me orgasm makes my skin burn. I hate to have this kind of reaction because I know what an asshole he is.
“He’s my stepbrother,” I mutter quietly. Or, my ex-stepbrother. Nonetheless, my inappropriate thoughts are just that—completely unacceptable.
“Really? So, you two grew up together?” she asks curiously.
“Not exactly.”
“Care to elaborate?” She persists.
“His mom married my dad. She came from Sweden and married my father my freshman year of high school. They didn’t want me around and so I moved to Chicago to live with my aunt on my mom’s side, but then my aunt got sick. It was hard for her to keep me around. I went back home my freshman year of college,” I say as my pointer finger circles the top of my champagne glass. Memories of that year bombard my mind. Nils and me hanging out in the library where I tutored him. Him coming by my dorm room looking sexier than any guy ever should. There were always girls around vying for his attention but when we hung out together they seemed to have melted into the background. He did a better job than I thought he would as my fake boyfriend.
“And?” Mata’s voice breaks me free from my reverie.
“Sorry,” I shake my head. “Where was I?”
“Freshman year of college,” she says, surprising me.
“Right.” I nod. I don’t want to get into those details. “My dad is a professor at the college back home and he really wanted me to attend the U of M. Nils came to Minnesota the year before from Sweden. He was attending the same college as me, but he lived in a dorm for the hockey players. We’d only known each other a few months when things imploded,” I say.
“Give me more details,” she insists, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“I’m not really comfortable sharing our past. Besides, he isn’t a nice person. There is no way he can be it for me,” I say with total honesty.
“Fair enough. Maybe I’m wrong.” She shrugs.
What the hell. Seriously? That is her intuitive guru advice?
After dinner, we practice walking down the aisle. Flynn is the maid of honor and Myles is the best man, so they walk together with the twins between them. Then comes Dave and Kelsey.
“Okay, doll. You walk to the center and meet your beau,” the wedding planner gives me a nudge. I look up to see Nils standing across from me.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
This is the third bad thing. The fucking shoe just dropped.
I don’t want to cause a scene. Sloane is feeling nervous enough as it is.
I bite my lip and walk toward him. When we reach the center of the aisle, I am supposed to link hands with him. Nils takes my arm and laces it with his.
“You’re looking good, sis.” He smirks.
“I’m not your sis,” I bite back. My father separated from his mother last year. He didn’t do it legally, though, because she didn’t get her papers yet and he didn’t want to ruin her chances. Dad can be a jerk, but I guess there’s a heart in his chest.
“I wouldn’t know. Haven’t spoken to Mom in years,” he says, surprising me. His words hit home. I haven’t spoken to my own mom since eighth grade.
“Sorry.” I find myself apologizing. I don’t know what for.
“It’s good to see you.” He raises his brows; his gaze sweeps over my body.
My insides shake from nerves but that’s not all. I find Nils attractive-- still.
“Wish I could say the same,” I answer dryly. It’s bitchy, but what he did to me was the lowest of the low and I don’t want to give off the vibe that I think he’s fucking gorgeous.
“About that. I really want to . . .” He trails off when we reach the bride and groom and we have to separate to different sides. His jaw pulses as he continues to watch me. I try to ignore his eyes on me and focus on the wedding planner as she instructs Sloane and Oli on what to do.
After the rehearsal, there is a dessert table set-up. Sloane’s mother has taken a pile of cakes, so I figure she’ll be busy for a while. Besides, I don’t see that woman starting anything with anyone right now. She looks too burnt out.
“Hey, can we talk a minute?” Nils catches me putting some fruit on a plate.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I answer curtly.
“I just want to say I’m sorry,” he says, surprising me. When did he grow a conscience?
“It’s a little late,” I answer. The reality is, I should have never put myself in the position I did. I knew he was toxic, and I went against my better judgement. Yet, I became a stronger person thanks to him. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I have Nils to thank for the harsh lesson.
“Look, we have friends in common. I just want to set things straight between us. I’m not the same guy I used to be.” He swipes a hand over his mouth. “I’m a stupid asshole. I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispers, and I get the feeling he’s being sincere, so I give him my attention. “I didn’t mean to fuck things up that night,” he says, and my stomach twists into horrible, tight knots. “I really didn’t. I don’t know. I always seem to drink too much and then I do stupid shit I don’t mean, and I hurt people I care about.” He stares me straight in the eyes. His royal blues cut me deep. I feel a sincerity from him I’ve never felt before. It makes me curious.
Wait! Did he just say he cares about me? Don’t tell me he’s high, too?
“Why apologize now?” I ask. I’m no longer the young girl with poor self-esteem. I see my worth.
“Maybe I’m growing up and realizing my mistakes,” he says. I notice how much better his English is even though I shouldn’t care.
“And I would believe that if I hadn’t seen the video of you piss-drunk and fucking those girls in the bathroom last night. Saw it twice, Facebook and Twitter. Real classy.” I smirk.
He has the decency to wince.
A part of me feels bad for being so harsh. Maybe t
he sting of his betrayal still hurts even though it’s been years.
I walk away and head straight to the ladies’ room, needing space, and just like years ago, I don’t turn back.
Five
Nils
“Whoa.” Myles claps me on the back. “What did you do now?” He tilts his chin to Sierra and then looks my way. I watch as she stalks away. Her curvy hips sway in that outfit she’s wearing. It’s a little on the conservative side but with Sierra it usually is. Still, my dick gets a little too excited at the sight of her.
I rub my temples. “I don’t know, man. I guess being myself has that affect.”
She leaves the wedding hall and I wonder if she’s coming back.
“Hey, did you even hear what I said?” Myles waves a hand in front of my face to get my attention.
Her raven hair sways down her back and I can’t peel my eyes away.
“Sorry. What were you saying?” I drag my gaze from Sierra to Myles and will myself to stop thinking of her.
Myles smirks as if he’s privy to some secret. “I was saying that she could be a good option for cleaning up your image. She looks like a sexy librarian.”
“Hey, who are you calling sexy?” Flynn arches a brow at her husband.
I chuckle. “Busted.”
“F-you,” he says and looks around the room, probably for his kids.
“They’re hanging with Sloane and Quinn,” Flynn says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t try to distract me. Who looks like a sexy librarian?”
As big and badass as Myles is on the ice, he is a wuss when it comes to his wife. The guy is totally pussy whipped. It’s pathetic.
“I was actually suggesting Sierra would be a good option for Nils. The senior managers are riding his case about finding a serious girlfriend and cleaning up his image,” Myles explains. “I was simply suggesting Sierra has that good-girl vibe.” Myles is trying to dig himself out, but it seems he’s just getting into a deeper hole.
I should feel embarrassed about Flynn knowing about the sex tape, but I can’t say that her husband was much better before she came to town and tamed his ass.
Dirty Swedish Player: A Big Stick Novel Page 4