Status: Just Starting
What Happens in Stockholm
Clubbing
The music’s base could be heard a few blocks away from the building. The line of people outside, desperate to get in, wrapped around the whole block. This “little bar” the boys had found ended up being more of a club than a bar. As our cabs pulled up to the entrance, a neon blue sign stood out against the plain brick.
Ryane was quick to usher me inside, obviously eager to start our night. Being an NHL team apparently gets you “street cred” in Sweden too because our whole group was instantly allowed admittance inside the booming club. No sooner than we had stepped through the doors, Ryane’s arm was securely around my waist and he was whisking me off towards the dance floor. I brushed off Douglas’s scowl and Dany’s barely noticeably narrowed eyes and followed my leading man for the night.
Once we were securely in the middle of the dance floor, the pounding music making the floor seem to vibrate beneath us, Ryane’s strong arms enclosed around my much smaller frame. We were facing each other, but he basically kept our bodies flush against each other. He had his arms crossed behind me at the wrists so that his fingers dangled just barely above the waistline of my skin tight jeans. Our bodies moved in unison, the beat of the music deciding our tempo.
Every now and then, Ryane’s fingers would “slip” and ghost over the skin just under my flowing top. There was just something exceptionally irresistible about Ryane Clowe. As my fingers nestled themselves in the short, light hairs that rested at the base of his neck, I found myself having trouble resisting him. I pushed myself closer to him and a smirk crossed his tempting lips.
Ryane leaned his head down, closer to mine. All the while I kept my gaze transfixed on his mouth until it moved out of my vision and to my ear.
“You’re too gorgeous to be hidden away. How have I never met you before?”
I let out a soft laugh at his question. “I travel a lot. I’m just never really around.”
“Do you live in San Jose?”
“If I tell you are you going to try and track me down?”
Ryane pulled back from me, an appalled expression on his face. “Why I’m shocked you would ever assume something like that about me.” Then his sly smile returned and his eyes glistened with mischief. “No, girls are always begging me to come visit them.”
Confidence just seemed to ooze off of Ryane and that was one of the things that enticed me most about him. He was sexy, confident, intelligent and seemed like the kind of guy who would always keep a girl on her toes. As the song changed into a much slower tempo, Ryane led me off to the side of the main floor where a bar took up an entire wall. “Well I hate to disappoint you, but I technically reside in Ottawa. It’s a bit far for constant weekend getaways during the season.”
Our conversation was temporarily halted when we approached the bar. The bartender came over immediately and asked, in Swedish, what we wanted. And just like that, all of the confidence that once consumed Ryane Clowe washed off of him with a simple drop of his jaw. He had no idea how to order anything in Sweden. I gently shoved him aside and opened my mouth, letting the words roll easily off of my tongue as my leading man just gaped before me. No matter how far from my roots I traveled, I never forgot how to speak the language.
As we waited for our drinks to arrive, Ryane slung a casual arm around my shoulders, pulling me so that I forced to lean into his solid body. “That was one of the sexiest things I have ever witnessed,” he mumbled into my hair.
I smiled cockily up at him. “I had a feeling it would do something for you.”
Ryane’s response was cut off by the bartender who placed our drinks down in front of us. He eyed his suspiciously before I convinced him that I had, in no way, attempted to drug him. Although I’m not sure he really would have minded. Just after I took my first sip, my phone vibrated obnoxiously in my pocket. Pulling out the device, I was forced to roll my eyes as the name of my overprotective cousin flashed before me. Third floor. Now. Stop humping my teammates. Love, Dougy
Without an explanation, I grabbed Ryane and dragged him up the three flights of stairs to the VIP section where, sure enough, nearly the entire Sharks team sat mingling, minus a few of the boys who were hoping to put a notch in their Swedish bedposts. The only seats available ended up being on opposite sides of the circle that had formed so Ryane and I were forced to part ways. Now I just had to choose who to sandwich myself between. There was Option A: Douglas and Dany, or Option B: Mike Moore and Antero Nittymaki. From there, my choice was simple. I was in Sweden, out trying to have a good time, and there was no way in hell I was going to sit next to my killjoy of a cousin.
I flashed the goalie and the blond a smile before taking my seat between them, enjoying the way both Mike and Ryane’s eyes followed my every move until I was firmly seated in the plush leather that made up the VIP chairs. However, more surprising than them was when I chanced a glance in Dany’s direction and he instantly diverted his gaze. Had he been watching too?
While theboys men around me talked, I observed. I watched as Ryane would occasionally catch my wandering eyes and a sexy, knowing smirk with casually cross his handsome features. I watched Jamie McGinn and Jason Demers’s eyes go wide every time a stereotypically blond Swedish girl would walk by in a shorter-than-necessary skirt. I watched Joe Thornton laugh along with his teammates, seemingly not having a care in the world, even though he was the newly named captain. I watched Douglas constantly glance over in my direction, eyeing me to be sure I was behaving. And I watched Dany who seemed different from everyone else with his calm stature and simple demeanor; but I suspected more.
There had to be more going on behind those placid eyes of his. He was in Sweden, he was single and he was rich, so why wasn’t he living it up like his teammates? From our brief, unknowingly overlapped time in Ottawa, I had heard stories about him. I had heard that he had a devastating past, but had yet to discover the details. I had also heard rumors of a falling out with various members of the organization. Regardless, there was much more about this mysterious man that I fully intended on discovering.
Throughout my observations, I had been taking casual sips from my drink. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I was surprised when I received a gentle tap on my leg and, at the same time, came to the realization that I was empty. I placed my empty glass on a table behind me and turned to the boy to my right. Mike smiled gently at me and I couldn’t resist returning the gesture.
“Do you think I could steal a dance tonight?” He spoke as close to a whisper as he could in the boisterous club.
I nodded enthusiastically and took his outstretched hand. This time I was sure Douglas, Dany and Ryane watched my exit with the blond boy who was technically a rookie. He was not nearly as built as Ryane, but his body was still large enough to provide me comfort as we moved onto the dance floor. Another difference was that Mike was much more timid. He didn’t pull me as close to him as was humanly possible, but kept us at a close proximity. Our position was also completely opposite to that of mine and Ryane’s; my back faced his front.
Within a few moments of casual grounding, I leaned myself back, fully into Mike’s body. The boy stiffened upon immediate impact, but loosened significantly as soon as I wrapped one of my arms up and around the back of his neck. I used the other arms to hold his hand in place at my hip, allowing us to fall into a more physical grind. Mike was quick to relax and before the end of the song I was able to let his hands have full control over the way my body moved against him.
We stayed this way for roughly three more songs, Mike occasionally muttering just how beautiful I was in my ear. I really needed to hang around the Sharks more; they were good for my ego. Mike was the one who cut our dancing short, his cheeks tinged a light rosy red.
“I’m sorry to break this up,” he spoke uneasily, “but I have to piss so damn bad.”
I chuckled at his innocence and reassured him that I would wait at the bar. He played the perfect gentleman as he led me to one of the stools and waited until I was comfortable, a refilled drink in my hand, before he left me. It was mere moments after he left before I was approached again. This time, by a complete stranger.
His strong Swedish accent and knowledge of the language led me to believe he was a native as he spoke. This new stranger proposed a dance offer to which I kindly rejected. I turned in my stool so that I was no longer facing him, but this man was one of those persistent Swedes that make their appearance every now and then. He reached for my arm, tugging me back around so we were face to face. Normally I wasn’t intimidated, but with the amount of alcohol I sensed on this man’s breath and his close proximity to me, I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.
As his words began to take on a more menacing tone, I found myself hoping Mike would hurry the fuck up and get out of the bathroom. Either that, or Dougy would sense my cousin vibes and come to my rescue. My silent prayers were answered when I felt a heavy arm wrap tightly around my waist, my savior pulling his body flush against mine. But it wasn’t Douglas or Mike who stood like a body guard behind me, but the ever mysterious Dany Heatley.
One look into his clouded eyes and you could tell he was far from pleased. His mouth was pressed in a firm line as he stared the man down. Suddenly with Dany behind me, the stranger who tried to get me to leave with him looked far less intimidating. His words cut through the tension between us, the music seeming like it was coming from a distance. “Back off,” left his lips in the form of the crisp Swedish language.
With evident fear in his eyes, the man before me shrank away from the bar. As soon as he was fully out of eyeshot, I let out the shaky breath I had been holding in and let my body ease against Dany’s. He still stood like a statue behind me, one arm wrapped tightly around my body, the other free to beat the living daylights out of the next creep who dared near us. After a few minutes passed, his demeanor, as well, relaxed and he turned his full attention to me. He wrapped both arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace against his large body that seemed to swallow me whole.
“Are you ok,” he mumbled against the top of my head, lips brushing my hair after every syllable.
I nodded affirmation and wrapped my own arms around him, desperate for his closeness. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
Dany pulled away from me slightly, his hands wandering up to cradle my face. His eyes danced over mine and then down the rest of my body, making sure I wasn’t lying. Once he was sure I truly was fine, he pulled me back into his embrace.
“Can we just stay like this,” I whispered into his shirt. “Just a little longer, then I’ll be all better.”
“Take your time.”
“Thanks for coming. For protecting me.”
Dany’s eyes glanced down and waited until they connected with mine. I read sincerity all over his face.
“I wasn’t about to let him hurt you.” He paused, seemingly ending the conversation, but I heard the last bit that he murmured to himself. “I won’t let anybody hurt you.”
Yes, there was definitely more to Dany Heatley than I had originally believed. And at that moment, I decided that by the end of this trip, I wanted to find out what made him tick.
Ryane was quick to usher me inside, obviously eager to start our night. Being an NHL team apparently gets you “street cred” in Sweden too because our whole group was instantly allowed admittance inside the booming club. No sooner than we had stepped through the doors, Ryane’s arm was securely around my waist and he was whisking me off towards the dance floor. I brushed off Douglas’s scowl and Dany’s barely noticeably narrowed eyes and followed my leading man for the night.
Once we were securely in the middle of the dance floor, the pounding music making the floor seem to vibrate beneath us, Ryane’s strong arms enclosed around my much smaller frame. We were facing each other, but he basically kept our bodies flush against each other. He had his arms crossed behind me at the wrists so that his fingers dangled just barely above the waistline of my skin tight jeans. Our bodies moved in unison, the beat of the music deciding our tempo.
Every now and then, Ryane’s fingers would “slip” and ghost over the skin just under my flowing top. There was just something exceptionally irresistible about Ryane Clowe. As my fingers nestled themselves in the short, light hairs that rested at the base of his neck, I found myself having trouble resisting him. I pushed myself closer to him and a smirk crossed his tempting lips.
Ryane leaned his head down, closer to mine. All the while I kept my gaze transfixed on his mouth until it moved out of my vision and to my ear.
“You’re too gorgeous to be hidden away. How have I never met you before?”
I let out a soft laugh at his question. “I travel a lot. I’m just never really around.”
“Do you live in San Jose?”
“If I tell you are you going to try and track me down?”
Ryane pulled back from me, an appalled expression on his face. “Why I’m shocked you would ever assume something like that about me.” Then his sly smile returned and his eyes glistened with mischief. “No, girls are always begging me to come visit them.”
Confidence just seemed to ooze off of Ryane and that was one of the things that enticed me most about him. He was sexy, confident, intelligent and seemed like the kind of guy who would always keep a girl on her toes. As the song changed into a much slower tempo, Ryane led me off to the side of the main floor where a bar took up an entire wall. “Well I hate to disappoint you, but I technically reside in Ottawa. It’s a bit far for constant weekend getaways during the season.”
Our conversation was temporarily halted when we approached the bar. The bartender came over immediately and asked, in Swedish, what we wanted. And just like that, all of the confidence that once consumed Ryane Clowe washed off of him with a simple drop of his jaw. He had no idea how to order anything in Sweden. I gently shoved him aside and opened my mouth, letting the words roll easily off of my tongue as my leading man just gaped before me. No matter how far from my roots I traveled, I never forgot how to speak the language.
As we waited for our drinks to arrive, Ryane slung a casual arm around my shoulders, pulling me so that I forced to lean into his solid body. “That was one of the sexiest things I have ever witnessed,” he mumbled into my hair.
I smiled cockily up at him. “I had a feeling it would do something for you.”
Ryane’s response was cut off by the bartender who placed our drinks down in front of us. He eyed his suspiciously before I convinced him that I had, in no way, attempted to drug him. Although I’m not sure he really would have minded. Just after I took my first sip, my phone vibrated obnoxiously in my pocket. Pulling out the device, I was forced to roll my eyes as the name of my overprotective cousin flashed before me. Third floor. Now. Stop humping my teammates. Love, Dougy
Without an explanation, I grabbed Ryane and dragged him up the three flights of stairs to the VIP section where, sure enough, nearly the entire Sharks team sat mingling, minus a few of the boys who were hoping to put a notch in their Swedish bedposts. The only seats available ended up being on opposite sides of the circle that had formed so Ryane and I were forced to part ways. Now I just had to choose who to sandwich myself between. There was Option A: Douglas and Dany, or Option B: Mike Moore and Antero Nittymaki. From there, my choice was simple. I was in Sweden, out trying to have a good time, and there was no way in hell I was going to sit next to my killjoy of a cousin.
I flashed the goalie and the blond a smile before taking my seat between them, enjoying the way both Mike and Ryane’s eyes followed my every move until I was firmly seated in the plush leather that made up the VIP chairs. However, more surprising than them was when I chanced a glance in Dany’s direction and he instantly diverted his gaze. Had he been watching too?
While theboys men around me talked, I observed. I watched as Ryane would occasionally catch my wandering eyes and a sexy, knowing smirk with casually cross his handsome features. I watched Jamie McGinn and Jason Demers’s eyes go wide every time a stereotypically blond Swedish girl would walk by in a shorter-than-necessary skirt. I watched Joe Thornton laugh along with his teammates, seemingly not having a care in the world, even though he was the newly named captain. I watched Douglas constantly glance over in my direction, eyeing me to be sure I was behaving. And I watched Dany who seemed different from everyone else with his calm stature and simple demeanor; but I suspected more.
There had to be more going on behind those placid eyes of his. He was in Sweden, he was single and he was rich, so why wasn’t he living it up like his teammates? From our brief, unknowingly overlapped time in Ottawa, I had heard stories about him. I had heard that he had a devastating past, but had yet to discover the details. I had also heard rumors of a falling out with various members of the organization. Regardless, there was much more about this mysterious man that I fully intended on discovering.
Throughout my observations, I had been taking casual sips from my drink. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I was surprised when I received a gentle tap on my leg and, at the same time, came to the realization that I was empty. I placed my empty glass on a table behind me and turned to the boy to my right. Mike smiled gently at me and I couldn’t resist returning the gesture.
“Do you think I could steal a dance tonight?” He spoke as close to a whisper as he could in the boisterous club.
I nodded enthusiastically and took his outstretched hand. This time I was sure Douglas, Dany and Ryane watched my exit with the blond boy who was technically a rookie. He was not nearly as built as Ryane, but his body was still large enough to provide me comfort as we moved onto the dance floor. Another difference was that Mike was much more timid. He didn’t pull me as close to him as was humanly possible, but kept us at a close proximity. Our position was also completely opposite to that of mine and Ryane’s; my back faced his front.
Within a few moments of casual grounding, I leaned myself back, fully into Mike’s body. The boy stiffened upon immediate impact, but loosened significantly as soon as I wrapped one of my arms up and around the back of his neck. I used the other arms to hold his hand in place at my hip, allowing us to fall into a more physical grind. Mike was quick to relax and before the end of the song I was able to let his hands have full control over the way my body moved against him.
We stayed this way for roughly three more songs, Mike occasionally muttering just how beautiful I was in my ear. I really needed to hang around the Sharks more; they were good for my ego. Mike was the one who cut our dancing short, his cheeks tinged a light rosy red.
“I’m sorry to break this up,” he spoke uneasily, “but I have to piss so damn bad.”
I chuckled at his innocence and reassured him that I would wait at the bar. He played the perfect gentleman as he led me to one of the stools and waited until I was comfortable, a refilled drink in my hand, before he left me. It was mere moments after he left before I was approached again. This time, by a complete stranger.
His strong Swedish accent and knowledge of the language led me to believe he was a native as he spoke. This new stranger proposed a dance offer to which I kindly rejected. I turned in my stool so that I was no longer facing him, but this man was one of those persistent Swedes that make their appearance every now and then. He reached for my arm, tugging me back around so we were face to face. Normally I wasn’t intimidated, but with the amount of alcohol I sensed on this man’s breath and his close proximity to me, I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.
As his words began to take on a more menacing tone, I found myself hoping Mike would hurry the fuck up and get out of the bathroom. Either that, or Dougy would sense my cousin vibes and come to my rescue. My silent prayers were answered when I felt a heavy arm wrap tightly around my waist, my savior pulling his body flush against mine. But it wasn’t Douglas or Mike who stood like a body guard behind me, but the ever mysterious Dany Heatley.
One look into his clouded eyes and you could tell he was far from pleased. His mouth was pressed in a firm line as he stared the man down. Suddenly with Dany behind me, the stranger who tried to get me to leave with him looked far less intimidating. His words cut through the tension between us, the music seeming like it was coming from a distance. “Back off,” left his lips in the form of the crisp Swedish language.
With evident fear in his eyes, the man before me shrank away from the bar. As soon as he was fully out of eyeshot, I let out the shaky breath I had been holding in and let my body ease against Dany’s. He still stood like a statue behind me, one arm wrapped tightly around my body, the other free to beat the living daylights out of the next creep who dared near us. After a few minutes passed, his demeanor, as well, relaxed and he turned his full attention to me. He wrapped both arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace against his large body that seemed to swallow me whole.
“Are you ok,” he mumbled against the top of my head, lips brushing my hair after every syllable.
I nodded affirmation and wrapped my own arms around him, desperate for his closeness. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
Dany pulled away from me slightly, his hands wandering up to cradle my face. His eyes danced over mine and then down the rest of my body, making sure I wasn’t lying. Once he was sure I truly was fine, he pulled me back into his embrace.
“Can we just stay like this,” I whispered into his shirt. “Just a little longer, then I’ll be all better.”
“Take your time.”
“Thanks for coming. For protecting me.”
Dany’s eyes glanced down and waited until they connected with mine. I read sincerity all over his face.
“I wasn’t about to let him hurt you.” He paused, seemingly ending the conversation, but I heard the last bit that he murmured to himself. “I won’t let anybody hurt you.”
Yes, there was definitely more to Dany Heatley than I had originally believed. And at that moment, I decided that by the end of this trip, I wanted to find out what made him tick.