Zaan: Sidewinders: Generations, #1

By Kat Mizera

First love gets a second chance...

Norwegian-born professional hockey player Zaan Hagen has only ever loved two things: Hockey and Lexi. He never imagined he'd have to choose, until he was forced to let her go.

After beating breast cancer at sixteen, Lexi Rousseau vowed to live her life with no regrets. When her singing career took off with one of the hottest pop groups in the world, her dream came true— but it cost her the only man she ever loved.

When an unexpected turn of events brings them back together, Zaan and Lexi will have to learn to balance their demanding careers and irrefutable desires before history starts repeating itself. Have they finally figured out how to play the game without losing everything?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kat Mizera
• Release date: Jan 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215540046

Kat Mizera

USA Today Bestselling author Kat Mizera was born in Miami Beach with a healthy dose of wanderlust. She's lived from coast to coast, and everywhere in between, but home is wherever her family is. A devoted mom and wife to her wonderful and supportive husband (Kevin) and two amazing boys (Nick and Max), Kat loves to travel the globe with her adventurous, hockey loving family. Greece is at the top of that list. She hopes to one day retire there, spending her days writing books on the beach. Kat is former freelance sports writer who now writes steamy hockey romance about her favorite fictional teams, the Las Vegas Sidewinders and the Alaska Blizzard. The library of novels she's penned also include sexy contemporary stories about baseball stars, alpha sex club owners, special forces heroes, rock stars, and royalty. Regardless of genre, her books about bad boys with hearts of gold will steal your breath, rock your world, and melt your heart.

Book preview

Prologue

Three Years Ago

---

I paced restlessly. Tonight’s show had gone well, but something was off. I practically felt the bad vibes moving through my veins as if they were part of my blood. The last four weeks had been the wildest, most incredible, scariest, and most unsettling days of my life. While it had been amazing to be onstage with a group that was as hot as Special Kay was right now, every tabloid rumor about them was frighteningly accurate. They partied like nothing I’d ever seen, and while I’d never been one to cave to peer pressure, they’d been relentless in their attempts to draw me into their shenanigans.

The drinking age was lower in Europe than in the U.S., so I wasn’t breaking any laws by imbibing with my bandmates, but after recovering from breast cancer less than a year ago, I was extremely careful of what I put into my body. I exercised, meditated, and tried to eat healthy. Drinking had been fun the first few nights, but after that I was bored with it. When I’d first explained about the cancer, the other girls in the band had been cool, but now they teased me about how health-conscious I was. The lead singer, Kay, whose real name was Annie Cromwell, was the worst of them all. One of the sound guys told me it was because she was intimidated. I was brand new but had become popular quickly, so it kind of made sense, but I didn’t know what that meant beyond the band not liking me that much.

Let’s go, ladies! Bernie Stohl, our tour manager, motioned to me and one of the other girls. Bus leaves for the hotel in five.

I grabbed my backpack and tossed it over my shoulder as we headed in that direction. Although our costumes and gear were handled by the road crew, I kept a backpack with me that was locked up while I was onstage. For some reason, I felt safer keeping important things with me; my passport, wallet, a change of clothes and a little cash. I was making good money for this gig, but it was all deposited in an account in the U.S., so I had my father’s American Express card for emergencies and the little bit of cash I’d brought with me. We each got a small, daily cash stipend for incidentals, but I didn’t buy much other than a few souvenirs I’d managed to grab. Not that I had much in the way of free time. We rarely stayed in any one place more than a day, two at the most.

Settling into my seat at the back of the bus, I pulled out my phone. My boyfriend, Zaan, was on the East Coast of the U.S. today, which meant he was only six hours behind me time-wise, and I sent him a text.

LEXI: Hey. You busy?

ZAAN: Just got to the arena. We play Philly in a couple hours.

LEXI: Oh, okay.

ZAAN: You okay?

LEXI: Just a rough night. No biggie. When’s your next day off?

ZAAN: Tomorrow’s a travel day.

LEXI: For us too. Let’s try to make a plan to talk.

ZAAN: There might be a practice, but any other time I’ll drop whatever I’m doing. If you give me a time, I’ll call you.

LEXI: That would be great… I’m struggling.

ZAAN: You’re not okay—you want me to call now? I’ve got about ten minutes.

LEXI: No, I’m fine. Go play. Love you.

ZAAN: Love you too.

Texting the boyfriend? Kay dropped into the seat next to me, startling me.

I stuck my phone in my pocket, nodding. Just checking in.

He’s a cutie. Kay was stoned out of her mind, her eyes glassy and bloodshot. I wondered how she’d gotten so fucked up so soon after the gig, because she hadn’t seemed intoxicated at all during the performance.

He’s a good guy.

You willing to give him up for this? Kay motioned with her hand.

I raised my eyebrows. I’m only here for two more weeks.

Kay didn’t seem to hear me as she laced her fingers through mine, stroking my arm softly with her other hand. I know I’ve been a bitch, but the truth is—I’m jealous.

Of me? I shook my head. Why? I’m gone in two weeks. I was only supposed to be here as a stand-in for one of the girls who had laryngitis and was struggling to get her voice back. This was an all-girl band that focused on vocals and dance routines, a cross between Britney Spears and the Spice Girls, with some Backstreet Boys rounding out the sound. Pop wasn’t really my thing, but they were huge and this had been the opportunity of a lifetime.

Kay smiled, closing her eyes. Honey, your whole life is about to change.

What are you talking about?

Listen to me, okay? Kay’s eyes popped open and she was suddenly perfectly lucid. The other girls are rough… They’re going to try to suck the life out of you, but don’t let them. You’re prettier, smarter and more talented than all of them put together, so you hang on to that. And when they offer you the contract, fight for your share. Don’t be dumb like me—don’t let them screw you over.

Kay, I don’t think they’re going to offer me—

Just listen! She squeezed my hand harder. They’ll be here in a minute…

Okay. I was confused. What contract? What was going on?

Tayla’s the one you have to watch the closest… She straightened her arm and pulled up her sleeve. You see these tracks? She’s the one who turned me on to H, sucked me right down the black hole with her, so you keep away from that shit.

Wha—

And Marj will pretend she wants to mother you, but she just wants to give you terrible advice so she’ll look better than you.

I don’t—

Pam isn’t a bad person, but she’s got her head so far up Marj’s ass, she’ll do anything Marj tells her to do, so keep that in mind. And Bernie’s going to try to get in your pants, but put him in his place right from the beginning—mention Karin and the kids.

He’s married? Bernie had already been hitting on me.

Kay laughed. Oh yeah. Three kids back in Chicago. Just tell him you can’t wait to meet Karin and he’ll back off.

Are you quitting the band? I asked softly, staring at Kay almost sadly.

Shit, emotionally I’m already gone. She pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and managed to light it.

I wrinkled my nose in distaste but didn’t say anything. This was so out of character for Kay, I was basically rooted to the spot, listening to her.

Anyway, the biggest thing is your contract—make sure they’ll let you write your own songs and put a little rock in this pop-ass shit. I heard some of the stuff you were working on last week at the studio and it’s fucking gonna rage. The fans’ll eat it, and you, right up. She took a deep drag of her cigarette and blew rings with the smoke. I know smoking’s bad for me, but it don’t matter anymore.

You sure you’re okay? I asked softly, wondering if the rumors about Kay going solo were true.

I’m good, better than ever. Kay squeezed my hand and slowly got to her feet. You’re a nice girl. Stay that way. Don’t let these bitches get to you. She dropped the cigarette and ground it out with her feet. Ma sistahs! She stumbled towards Tayla and Marj, who’d just come in, a bottle of tequila appearing out of nowhere.

I sighed as I watched Kay morph from drunk, thoughtful Kay to wild, obnoxious Kay. She’d probably had way too much to drink and wouldn’t even remember our conversation in the morning. With a scowl, I dug my headphones out of my backpack and turned on some music.

---

I woke in the morning to someone banging on my hotel room door. Yanking on a robe, I fumbled for my phone and scowled. It was only seven thirty. I’d barely slept four hours and I yanked open the door in annoyance, glaring at Bernie.

What is it? I demanded, leaning against the doorframe.

Kay’s gone. He was so matter-of-fact that I wasn’t sure what he meant.

Huh? I fought a yawn.

Dead, Lexi. Kay’s dead.

What? I froze, staring at him. What happened?

She OD’d. Tayla woke up and found her on the floor.

Oh my god. A cold chill crawled down my spine and I couldn’t help but shiver. Guilt shot through me simultaneously. Kay had practically told me she was going to die and I’d missed it, too wrapped up in my own issues to give much thought to her behavior. I was sad and mortified, my stomach a little queasy as I asked, What should I do?

Stay in your room. Don’t go anywhere, don’t talk to anyone, and stay off the internet. You understand?

I nodded. I shut the door and crawled back into bed, pulling the covers up around me since I was suddenly freezing. Without thinking, I called Zaan. He was probably in bed, although there was a good chance he wasn’t asleep yet.

Babe? He answered instantly.

Zaan. My voice broke. "Kay’s dead."

Kay… What? He sounded as dumbfounded as I felt.

I told him about our strange conversation the night before. And now she’s gone. It’s like she knew and was begging me to stop her.

Don’t do that, he protested mildly. There was no way for you to know. Addiction is a terrible disease.

But why didn’t she ask for help? I whispered.

I don’t know, he admitted. I don’t have an addictive personality, so it’s not something I understand, but from what I’ve read, they can’t usually admit they even have a problem.

I feel like I should’ve done something… I should’ve known something was up! I was fighting tears and disparate emotions because while I didn’t like her very much, she was way too young to die.

There was no way for you to know she was going to OD. She probably didn’t know either.

I broke down, sobbing into the phone.

Damn, baby, I wish I could be there.

Me too. I sniffled into my pillow.

What can I do?

Nothing. I took a breath. I’ll probably be coming home in a few days now, so I guess that’s the silver lining.

I’ll make you forget all about Special Kay. He spoke softly.

I sniffed out a little laugh. You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to that.

If you need to talk, I’ll be here. I need to get some sleep, but if you need me again later, it’s okay to wake me up.

Thank you.

Night, babe.

---

I fell into a restless slumber, tossing and turning for a few more hours until I was awoken by my phone buzzing on the pillow next to me. I jumped, putting it to my ear without looking to see who it was.

Yes, hello?

Lex, it’s Bernie. Meeting in my suite, twenty minutes. He disconnected.

With a grunt, I put the phone down and padded into the bathroom. After I’d washed my face and brushed my teeth, I pulled my hair into a tiny ponytail. It was still short after going bald from chemotherapy two years ago, but there was finally enough to pull it away from my face. I wore a wig onstage, but I didn’t care what I looked like right now. Yanking on jeans and a sweatshirt, I slid my feet into a pair of Keds and grabbed my phone and room key.

I got to Bernie’s suite just as Marj and Tayla arrived. Marj appeared to have been crying, but Tayla was stoic, her face a mask of nothingness. I wanted to shake her, ask her what the hell was wrong with her, but I didn’t have it in me to fight with her. Not now. Instead, I sat in a chair at the far end of the room as Bernie paced and the band’s manager, Klaus Heinz, joined us via conference call.

We have decisions to make, Klaus said. We have two more weeks of this tour and we’re already contracted to do another album. My suggestion is that we become a four-piece, instead of five, to finish this tour.

Kay’s body isn’t even cold yet! Tayla yelled. What’s wrong with you?

I understand that, and we’ve postponed a few shows to give all of you a few days to grieve and rehearse, but—

I’m going back to college after two weeks, I said.

You and I will talk privately, Lexi, Klaus said. In the meantime, you should all take a couple of days to practice some self-care and grieve. Once we talk to the venues and see when we can pick up the tour, you’ll need to start rehearsals. I’ll be there in the morning.

He disconnected and everyone turned to stare at me.

What? I asked, unsure of what was going on.

You’re about to become a big star, Lexi. Bernie smiled and this time it was genuine.

Bitch. The look on Tayla’s face was one of pure hatred.

I had no idea how my life was about to change.

1

Lexi

Present Day

---

Music was my favorite mind-numbing distraction, but sometimes it didn’t help. Sitting in my sectioned off portion of the tour bus, even with noise-cancelling headphones and music playing through my laptop, I still felt the bouncing of the seat on the other side of my bunk, someone jumping up and down. Another night on tour. Another night of hell. I was so tired of this. So tired of them.

Someone yanked open the curtain and Tayla’s hottie-of-the-night wiggled his flaccid penis in my direction. With an exasperated sigh, I jerked the curtain closed again. Boy toy stuck his pecker through the seam and I resisted the urge to swat it; I simply refused to touch something so vile.

Come play with us, Lexi! Marj opened the curtain again and I read her lips.

I shook my head, reaching for the curtain. No, thanks. I’m working.

You’re always working, Marj whined.

Working to make the rest of us look bad, Tayla hissed, peering over Marj’s shoulder. Thinks she’s hot shit.

I could only partially hear them but after more than three years on the road together, I knew what they were saying, what they thought of me. But I didn’t care anymore. I was done with this bullshit. Contract or no contract, I was catching a flight home as soon as I could get to an airport. I’d already spoken to my lawyer about it and he’d said he potentially had enough proof to show they were breaking multiple stipulations of our contract, so I could get out of finishing the tour. At this point, I didn’t care about the money or my reputation. I just needed to get the hell away from them. There was no doubt in my mind why the last Kay had turned to heroin and suicide; these bitches were enough to drive anyone insane.

Come on, you sweet blond pussy. Tayla and Pam joined Marj and the two guys they’d picked up, who were now stark naked, sneering down at me. She snatched the headphones off of my head and I shot to my feet. I wasn’t suicidal like Kay, but I was on the verge of being homicidal, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

Give me the fucking headphones, I snapped.

What are you gonna do? Take them? Tayla tossed them on the ground and stomped on them, laughing.

I arched my brows. You’re a piece of work, you know that?

You’re not better than us, you know, Tayla responded, her bloodshot eyes cloudy from alcohol and who knows what else.

Never said I was.

But you sit in there like the queen of fucking England, always working. You’re the only one who writes songs… Why can’t you use the ones they write for us like Kay did?

"Because I like to write songs."

You wanna fuck my boyfriend? Tayla changed tactics, pulling her flavor of the month forward and beginning to stroke his dick.

No thanks. I tried to sit down again but Tayla yanked me back up by the hair.

I let out a yelp of pain and surprise, pulling myself free of the other woman’s grasp as I stumbled back into my seat. What. The. Fuck. I stood up again, scowling. You want to go, Tayla? Huh? You and your drunk ass think you can take me? I’d never been in a fistfight in my twenty-two years on earth, but I was ready tonight.

Fuck you! Tayla started laughing, which turned into a deep, guttural cough that led her to her own bunk.

What did you do to her? Pam growled at me.

I raised my hands. I never touched her. Maybe if she’d stop smoking and shooting up, she wouldn’t sound like that all the time.

Maybe if you weren’t so holier-than-thou, we’d be a group again instead of Lexi’s backup singers.

Again, if you spent more time on the music instead of the drugs and dickless wonders, it wouldn’t be that way.

We don’t want you here, Tayla rasped. We fucking hate you.

Good. I hate you too and I’ll be out of here the next time we stop.

You can’t leave the group. There’s another year on your contract. Tayla tried to keep talking but succumbed to another coughing fit.

I’d rather go broke than spend another year on tour with you bitches. I pulled the curtain closed and sat down. Though I’d learned quickly not to back down with them, the fighting and insults still bothered me. My hands were shaking and I was a little nauseated, but I’d be okay. Opening up my phone to distract myself, a notification caught my eye.

Las Vegas loses to Florida, 5-4.

The Sidewinders had played Florida? In Fort Lauderdale? Tonight? I quickly looked up the team’s schedule and, sure enough, the game against Florida had ended only a few minutes ago. Holy shit. This might be my lucky night.

I hauled my ass out of my bunk and rushed to the front of the bus. Lula Mae Hammond had been our bus driver for two years and she was a sweet, smart lady; we’d gotten close over the last couple of years. Lula Mae was one of the only people keeping me sane on this tour.

Lula, where are we? I whispered.

Lula glanced at me in surprise. Passing through a western suburb of Fort Lauderdale, Lex. What’s up?

Are we anywhere near Sawgrass Mills? The Sawgrass Expressway?

Sugar, what’s going on?

Tell me, Lula. It’s important.

We’re on the Sawgrass, sugar, but—

Don’t pass the exit for the mall! I ran back to my bunk and threw my laptop, external hard drive and chargers into my backpack. Grabbing my Keds, I slid my feet into them, put my phone in my pocket and slipped on my denim jacket. I took one last look around and then hurried back to the front of the bus.

Honey bunch, what are you doing? Lula looked concerned.

I need to get out of here, I whispered. My dad’s team is here, right now, and if we hurry, I can get on the plane with them if you can drop me near the arena.

The girls won’t like it, she whispered back.

By the time they figure out what’s going on, I’ll be gone.

You sure?

Yes.

Lula got off the highway at the next exit and headed toward the arena. Be careful, sweet girl—text Lula Mae and let me know you’re okay.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and weighed my options. My father was the team’s goalie coach now that he’d retired from playing professional hockey, but he had the flu and wasn’t on this road trip. I knew lots of the players but there was only one I wanted to call. Without overthinking it, I dialed his number and prayed he would pick up. We hadn’t spoken in months, but he was still my friend.

My soulmate.

My love.

My Zaan.

Hey, we’re about to get on the bus. Can I call you back?

I need help, I said quickly. Where are you?

We’re in Fort Lauderdale, he countered. Where are you? What’s going on?

I’m by the mall, just a few blocks away… I told him exactly where we were.

We’re around back, literally getting ready to walk out to the bus in a few minutes.

Oh, god, don’t leave without me! Please tell them to wait. I can have the driver drop me off at the player’s exit if you can call someone to get us through the gate. The game let out not that long ago, so there’s a ton of traffic, but if you get me in…

I’ll talk to Coach right now. Call you back. He disconnected.

Lula turned the bus toward the arena, slowing down as she went against the postgame traffic, but I was so ramped up on adrenaline, I was bouncing on my toes as I waited for word from Zaan.

A minute later he called back.

Gate Z, he told me. And then I’ll meet you outside.

Thank you. I relayed the message to Lula and we followed signs toward the correct gate.

Have her just pull over by the guard, Zaan was saying in the phone. I can walk you in. That’s easier than her trying to turn around in this parking lot.

Okay. I pointed. Let me off there, Lula.

You sure, sugar? Lula gave me a dubious glance.

It’s the team my dad works for. I’ll be fine.

She slowed the bus to a stop and I leaned over to kiss her cheek. I’ll text you tomorrow! Thank you.

Go get ‘em, girl. You know you love that boy.

I gave her a rueful smile. I don’t think it’s mutual anymore, but you never know.

I jumped off the bus and as I turned, I saw him. Tall and broad-shouldered, his dirty blond hair falling over his forehead, it was still Zaan. He’d changed some, gotten bigger and stronger, but not that much, not enough that I wouldn’t recognize him. I couldn’t help myself and ran straight to his arms, throwing myself at him as if I was grabbing a lifeline.

Hey. He hugged me tightly. You okay, babe?

He called me babe. I nearly melted.

Could you just hold me for a minute? Please.

Of course. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest as the tour bus pulled away.

I breathed in his aftershave, his masculine scent, and emotion burned through me. God, I’d missed him so fucking much.

What’s going on? he whispered after a few seconds. "The guys are already on the bus and