Page 11

Chapter 11

The best game

Braydon

After the game, the team went out for the drinks Cooper had promised. Jayna worked during the game but she came with me since we were “dating.” She met me in the friends and family room after I’d showered and dressed back in my suit. I’d been able to get it dry cleaned after I’d slept in it, but it still looked second-rate next to what the other guys were wearing.

I’d seen Jayna in dress pants at her job, and in casual clothes at the party at our place, and at Cooper’s. Tonight, she was dressed up and she looked hot. She wore a black dress that clung tightly to her body, with black tights covering any scarring on her knee, and finished her look with red, low-heeled boots. She still had her cane but didn’t use it much as she crossed to me without a wobble, wrapping her hand around my arm. Her hair was in loose curls, her lips were red, and her eyes made up to stand out. I felt a little swagger, that this woman was with me.

“You look…” I swallowed. “Um, nice.”

Mentally I smacked myself. Nice?

She waved a hand over herself. “Nice? If I only look nice, then I obviously made a mistake somewhere.”

I couldn’t believe this was the same woman I’d seen battling on the ice in those videos, and who’d put me in my place at our first meeting. “You’re right—you look amazing. Is it okay if I say that?”

“My boyfriend is definitely allowed to tell me I look good. Just because we play a sport doesn’t mean we don’t know how to dress to impress.”

“You do!”

She nudged me. “Don’t sound surprised.”

I was messing this up so badly. “Sorry, I just haven’t seen you look like this before.”

Jayna shrugged. “Gotta keep the puck bunnies away.”

Oh, right. She hadn’t dressed for me, but for her job as my girlfriend. I’d run across the jersey chasers before and even hooked up with a couple, but my focus was on improving my hockey game before anything else so I mostly avoided them. Luke teased me, but I hadn’t ever had a good game after a hookup, so I wasn’t risking my future for sex.

Girls hung out with the Inferno guys, some looking for fun, some for a long-term thing. There would be more with the Blaze. Unless they were pissed by that video of me, or weren’t interested in a backup goalie…and why was I thinking about this? I couldn’t hook up with someone while I was dating Jayna, even if it wasn’t real. I didn’t want to.

We headed down the corridor to the players’ parking lot. She gripped my arm tightly, using me for support rather than her cane.

“Sorry, first time in heels since the accident. They’re low, but still not made to support my feet.”

I lowered my voice, not needing to duck to talk to her. Or to kiss her— “It’s safe for your knee?”

“My physio people said I could try it for a short time.”

I glanced over her again. “The look is worth it. Um, something we should mention but didn’t talk about, but I won’t…you know, hook up while we’re doing this.”

Jayna didn’t respond for a moment. “I guess that’s the same for me.”

My mouth opened, but I shut it firmly. I didn’t want to know who Jayna dressed up like this for if it wasn’t me. It wasn’t reasonable, but I felt jealous. Which made no sense. These last few days my emotions were all over the place.

My truck looked even less impressive than my suit next to the vehicles the other players had. I kept it mostly clean, but I wasn’t spending money on a new car when I had a perfectly adequate one. Maybe if I signed an NHL contract, but that wasn’t helping tonight.

“Sorry, it’s not very fancy.” Especially not when Jayna was dressed up. She deserved something like Cooper’s Ferrari.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got a shitbox car that looks a lot like your truck. I just haven’t been able to drive it with my knee.”

Right. The women players didn’t get paid much.

At least I opened the door for her. Then I slipped into the driver’s seat. “Do you know where this place is, or should I ask my phone for directions?”

“I’ve got it. I even know a place to park.”

I’d just turned the truck on when Jayna’s phone rang. She dug into her purse while I pulled into the line behind a Land Rover already heading to the exit. It belonged to one of the married guys—there was a cute little line of hockey player decals showing two parents, three kids and a dog.

“Hey.” Her voice was flat.

I tried not to eavesdrop, but inside the cab I didn’t have anything else to hear. Turning on music while she was talking would be rude. She didn’t ask me to stop the truck, so I distracted myself by running through the Blaze roster to guess who was ahead of us.

“You heard, eh?”

Her voice…sounded sad. Resigned. Like when I was told I wasn’t on the draft radar. Expecting bad news, but still disappointed to get it. It didn’t sound like a good call.

“It’s new.”

This time, the silence filled up with tension, all coming from the woman beside me and her reaction to whoever was on the phone.

“Of course you do. By the way, I’m still doing rehab. Want a ticket to a game when I’m playing again?” Jayna’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the phone. “My team is in the playoffs. For those who care.” She drew in a long, careful breath. “Yeah, I’ll let you know. Bye, Mom.”

She dropped the phone on her lap, her body vibrating with the control she was exerting. I pulled off into an empty parking space. Something was very wrong here.

I idled for a few moments while she stared blankly out the windshield.

Finally, she blinked a couple of times and turned to me. “Sorry, did I not give you directions?”

“I thought you might need a minute. You seemed upset.”

She glared at the phone resting in her lap. “Yeah, well, that’s what talking to Mom does.”

My parents were great—well, the ones who raised me. The only time I wasn’t good after a call with my mom was when I found out about Frank Devereaux. Even the last call about Jayna hadn’t been uncomfortable.

“Can I do anything?” What the hell I could do was a good question, but I had to ask.

She plastered a big, fake smile on her face. “Sure. My parents would like to come see one of your games, if you can swing some tickets.”

I opened my mouth to assure her I would, but could I? I’d just played—well, been on the roster—for my second game, and I had no idea if I could get tickets. Probably. Maybe? But that fake smile on Jayna’s face— Did she want me to say yes? “Do you want me to ask?”

She looked away. “That would be nice.”

“No.”

Her head jerked around to look at me. “What?”

“I said no. I don’t want to get tickets for anyone who upsets you like that.”

“What?” she repeated.

“I don’t know what’s going on with your family, and you don’t have to tell me. But if they treat you like shit, I don’t want to do them any favors.”

She collapsed a bit on the seat. “They don’t treat me like shit. Well, not really.”

“If it makes you feel like that, then maybe it is, really.”

She looked out the window again. Nothing but concrete to see. “I won a gold medal in the Olympics, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. My girlfriend is a pretty awesome hockey player.”

The corner of her mouth ticked up, but only for a moment. “I asked my parents to come to the Olympics, to watch some of my games. I could have got them tickets to the gold medal game.”

I hazarded a guess. “They didn’t come.”

“No, it was a long way, and maybe we wouldn’t win. And besides, the next month they were flying to Europe to see my brother play.”

Her parents said no to the Olympics? What was wrong with them? “They turned it down to see your brother play?”

“Yeah, he plays real hockey.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Men’s hockey. That call was because they wanted to know if I could get them tickets to see real hockey. Since I’m now dating a real hockey player. They’ll fly in, pay for a hotel for a night, because this is what they admire.”

I was angry with them, especially when I could see how much they’d hurt Jayna. But was I in a position to judge? I had mostly ignored women’s hockey and I was a damned hockey player. Still, they should support their daughter.

“Real hockey players are often assholes, so I don’t mind refusing to do anything for them.”

Jayna laughed and turned back to me. “True. But if you can get tickets, please do. I can post some shots with you meeting the parents and that will make our story stronger.”

Right. Our story. Jayna wasn’t here with me because she wanted to be. That reminded me. “My parents want to fly in for a game.”

There was little chance I’d be starting, but I’d be on the ice for warm-ups, I’d be wearing the Blaze jersey, and they’d be watching an NHL game in person. I could spring for tickets and a hotel for them since my salary had bumped up now that I was with the Blaze. If I couldn’t get comp tickets, I’d buy them, no matter the cost.

Jayna flicked back into professional mode. “Did you tell them about us? That we’re not really together?”

Hammer it home there, Jayna . “Yeah. They know why I freaked out in that video, so they knew our story was a cover. But they’ll support us.”

“Are they willing to be in posts on social? It would help.”

I nodded. They’d do whatever it took.

Jayna started typing on her phone, probably adding dates and plans, so I backed out of the slot and headed to the exit. When we got there she looked up to tell me to turn right, so we were back on track.

I wasn’t worried about Jayna meeting Mom and Dad. They were nice people and gave everyone a chance. They were a little confused by the fake dating, but if Jayna was helping me, they’d like her just for that.

But her parents? They didn’t sound like great people. Would Jayna want me to ignore anything hurtful they said and play nice, or do what I wanted and tell them to fuck off?

* * *

Jayna

I pushed thoughts of my parents aside and concentrated on being a great girlfriend to Braydon while we hung out with his teammates at the Top Shelf.

I knew Cooper because of his connection to Faith and Hunter. I’d dealt with some of the other guys doing PR for the Blaze. And at the get-together at Cooper’s I’d had a chance to meet some of them socially. The Bonfire had even had a few events with the Blaze in previous seasons.

But posing as a girlfriend was different. The guys were relaxed, not presenting their public faces. Made me wonder if some of them knew who I was. They were less careful with their words. They rehashed the game, of course, as well as the last one where Braydon played. But I’d have been pushed to the outskirts if I hadn’t kept myself a part of the group around Braydon.

Not many of the family guys were here, and the ones who were married and here with their partners were gathered at another table. Around us were the unmarried guys. A few of them had girlfriends, and the girlfriends were a group, sharing a friendship I wasn’t part of. I didn’t want to be. Nothing against them, but I was a player, and I wanted to share in the conversation about the game.

I had to give Braydon points. Sure, he’d get talking with, say, Crash, and would forget I was there. But he’d remember and bring me into the conversation. After a comment I’d made about the angle of someone’s shot, one of the second line forwards, Gerber, turned and looked me up and down. The team had acquired him at the trade deadline, and he wasn’t someone I’d dealt with.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, honey.”

Before I could blast him, Cooper, who’d been talking to several women the last I’d noticed, spoke over my head. “She knows more than you do, Gerbs. She’s a right winger for the Bonfire. When you’ve played as many games as a pro as she has, and win an Olympic gold medal, then you have the right to challenge her.”

Gerbs’s hands fisted around his beer mug. He wanted to argue.

“You should see this one video of Jayna, from the playoffs last year,” Braydon said. “I swear, no goalie could have stopped that shot. A beauty.” He wrapped his arm around me. “No, I change my mind. I don’t want anyone to see that because I don’t want them to try it on me.”

Boom . Idea in my head. I’d get Braydon on the ice with the Bonfire, let them shoot on him. I could post the shit out of that, as long as he didn’t act like a petulant toddler. And I was more confident now that he wouldn’t.

Oh, maybe I could let the petulant toddler across the table, Gerber, do something similar—shoot on Faith. He probably wouldn’t agree to doing it, but just the idea of it was a pleasant thought to help me through the night.

* * *

Between work for the two teams, rehab, and going out with my teammates, I didn’t have time to work on fake dating…except for convincing my girls that Braydon was the exception to my not-dating players rule. Megan had told them that their attitude was why I didn’t tell anyone until it was serious.

Nobody mentioned that they wouldn’t be giving me such a hassle if I wasn’t the one who’d made a rule of it, which was why they were such great friends. I told them I was bringing my guy for a game, and that I’d be posting the hell out of it.

Two nights later the Bonfire had a game when the Blaze didn’t. It was the first and possibly only opportunity to have Braydon attend, depending on the playoffs. We agreed to take the subway up to the arena in North York since traffic heading out of the city was brutal at the end of the workday.

I didn’t want to be mobbed on the subway, so I’d suggested Braydon might want to change up his look a bit. If he was recognized as a member of the Blaze, people would approach him. So he’d let some scruff grow and was wearing a ball cap, this one for the local baseball team, as his cover.

Despite the video from his first game, he was still new and hadn’t played much, so there was a good chance this would work. Someone like Cooper could never get away with it. In jeans and a well-worn leather jacket, Braydon almost looked like a regular commuter. A tall one with broad shoulders and a fit body. People, especially women, still noticed him, and I slid my hand into his, gripping firmly. Just to keep up our story, and nothing to do with how that hold warmed and relaxed me. Being off the ice had obviously messed me up a bit.

I’d made sure not to wear any of my Bonfire-branded clothes, which meant none of my usual choices. I wasn’t wearing office clothes to the rink, and most of my casual stuff was tagged with something hockey. I’d picked out jeans too, with a favorite sweater and a jacket I borrowed from Megan. With my hair cut I didn’t look like my team photos either, but I was a lot less likely to be identified than Braydon.

I’d arranged Bonfire gear for both of us once we got there. At the game I wanted everyone to recognize us. This was the first step in making Braydon the number one supporter of the Bonfire.

We didn’t talk, since the subway was packed. He followed me off when we got to the familiar stop for our arena and caught the bus that would take us the final few blocks. We were a little early, as I’d planned. Not as early as when I was playing, but earlier than the spectators were likely to arrive.

Braydon looked around as we crossed the parking lot, heading toward a door at the back near the ice pile. “I thought this would be more like our—I mean, the Inferno arena.”

I snorted. “We wish. We’re lucky to get a thousand people at a game.”

His brow creased but he didn’t say anything more. I didn’t need him to tell me that the Inferno averaged six thousand fans a game. And the Blaze? Yeah, at least three times that. Our attendance had been creeping up all season—the last game had crossed the thousand spectator mark for the second time this year. I liked to think my efforts had helped.

He followed me down the familiar hallway to the locker room, and I wished I was doing this for real. Lacing up my skates, putting on the pads, getting on the damned ice and playing. I wanted to break the cane and be whole again. I shook my head. It would come. This much therapy had to lead somewhere.

We paused partway down a concrete hallway to the home team changing room. It was a far cry from what the Blaze hallways looked like. They’d built the Blaze arena when the expansion team was approved, and it was one of the newest, nicest arenas in the league. This one was old and scarred. But we still played the same game. The best game.

I stuck my head in through the door. “Everyone decent?’

“Tempo!”

“Tempest!”

“Are you finally back? We need you!”

The comments warmed me, soothing that fear inside that I might lose this. “Not yet, but I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Give me a sec!”

“Come on, Snickers. Cover the girls up.”

We finally got the all clear to enter. My eyes scanned the room, noting that there was a new name on my stall. My hand tightened on my cane. Of course there was. I’d been out for months.

I reached for Braydon’s hand and dragged him in behind me. Catcalls and whistles rang out, fortunately not from Braydon.

“Who’s that, Tempo?”

With the exception of Faith and Megan, none of them had met him.

“This…” I pulled Braydon forward to stand beside me. His cheeks were red. After a quick glance around, probably noting that Snickers was barely covered, he stared down at the floor. “Is Braydon Mitchell. New backup goalie for the Blaze and…my boyfriend.” The words almost stuck in my throat. I shoved them down and kept going. “I’ve convinced him to come to practice tomorrow, so he can see what it’s like to play with us.”

Most of the women cheered. We all struggled with the discrepancies between our lives as professional athletes and that of the men.

“I’m posting this too, by the way. So, you know, no pressure.”

One person who’d been quiet the whole time was Faith. She stood up, tall as Braydon in her skates, and stared at him. “Sure you want to do this, Mitchell?”

He was tense beside me but met her gaze. “I do. I didn’t know how much I had to learn, but I’m making up for that deficit now.”

She shrugged. “I’ve played with the guys, and if you think it’s going to be easy, you’re wrong.”

“I’ve been wrong about a lot of things.”

I squeezed his hand. “We’ll head out now, but we’ll be cheering for you.”

We left then, partly to let my teammates finish getting ready, partly to make sure he and Faith didn’t get into a fight.

And mostly because being there was ripping at my heart. That was where I belonged. Working at the Blaze arena was vastly different from this bare-bones, grassroots version of the sport I loved and played. I could push aside missing it in the polished hallways of the Blaze arena, but not here.