Page 16

Chapter 16

Team Faith

Braydon

I hadn’t seen Jayna, except for a couple of photo things for social media—lunch in her office, her spotting me while I was doing some strength training. She was busy, between her two jobs, the Bonfire in the playoffs, and the Blaze working on clinching their own spot. Plus she had her rehab. It wasn’t because we’d had sex.

I had my own practice and training and workouts to keep me busy. Luke invited the Inferno guys over one night when we were both free, and I had lunch most days at the training facility with the Blaze. I needed to focus on my game, not my fake girlfriend. Who was amazing in bed…and that was not what I was supposed to be thinking about. She hadn’t said we’d do it again, and I had to respect that.

This weekend my parents were finally able to fly in for a game. There were no guarantees that I would play, but I wanted to see them and they were anxious to see me too. The whole Devereaux/fake girlfriend thing had them worried, even though we talked about it on every call. They wanted to meet Jayna.

I’d told my folks that she might be busy—this weekend was the start of the Bonfire’s playoff series, and that was a bigger priority than me sitting on the bench for a game. But as it turned out, the Bonfire were out of town, and Jayna would be in the team box to do her job for the Blaze. That must be frustrating for her. Another case of the men’s team being more important than the women’s. Things I never noticed before but could now appreciate.

I’d booked a hotel near the arena for my mom and dad. They planned to take the UP Express from the airport and catch a cab to the hotel, not wanting to interrupt my game-day routine. They knew how superstitious I was about that.

I was in a great mood for practice. My parents were here, and I’d get to see Jayna again. I started my stretches, and while I had my face almost on the ice, getting those muscles loose before we did drills, Coach Osgood, our head coach, skated over to Coach Salo, the two of them looking at me.

Butterflies started in my stomach. Had I done something wrong? Coach Salo waved me over, so I got up and skated to join them. Whatever it was, I could fix it. They were stuck with me for a few more weeks and I could get better.

Coach Osgood nodded. “You need more game time, and we want to keep some freshness in the team legs. Carolina lost a couple of their starters to injury, so this should be an easy game. You and some of the bench guys are starting.”

“Really? Because my parents are here for the game.”

“We know. You’ve been doing well in practice—don’t mess this up. The team needs to be confident with both their goalies.”

Practice flew by. When I got back to the locker room, I had a message from my folks to let me know they’d got to their room safely and were going to have dinner at the restaurant I’d recommended. They were sitting in the friends and family section for the game and someone from the team would meet them and bring them down to see me after.

Should I tell them I’m starting? I didn’t want to get their hopes up for nothing, in case I got appendicitis, or someone ran into me in warm-ups. A surprise wouldn’t hurt them. I wanted to message Jayna, but she’d already know. We might have had sex, but I was still her job, not her boyfriend.

I couldn’t sleep when I was supposed to have my afternoon nap. Luke wasn’t home, since the Inferno had away games in Winnipeg this weekend—ironically, the closest I would have been to home this season. My nerves were jittery. Starting was always nerve-racking, but this time I was starting an NHL game.

Finally, it was time to drive to the arena and go through my game routine. Petey frowned at me. Was that still about Frank Devereaux or was he pissed that he wasn’t getting the start? He went off to do his meditation time, and I tried to settle my nerves by juggling some tennis balls. I had to focus to do that, and it helped. Until we went out for on-ice warm-ups.

When I skated onto the ice, there were the usual crowds around the glass, fans who were early and wanted to experience every bit of the game. Ticket prices in this city were astronomical, so a lot of people couldn’t afford to come very often. I lowered myself to the ice, needing to stretch out and loosen muscles. Petey was in net being pelted with pucks by the skaters, since he was backing up tonight. I looked around at the faces behind the glass while I stretched out my hamstrings, and grinned when I saw my folks. Most of the butterflies settled when I looked at their familiar faces.

They waved, and I skated over to greet them. A couple of kids were waiting beside them, excited that a hockey player was coming their way. I wasn’t familiar enough for them to be excited about me in particular, but I picked up a couple of loose pucks to toss over the glass and yelled a hello at Mom and Dad.

They’d never been rabid hockey fans, but they’d come to enough of my games to understand how warm-ups went, and knew I was starting. They gave me a thumbs-up, and said I’d do great. Then we were whistled off the ice, and it was time to focus on the game.

I still got a thrill when we came out on the ice to cheering. The lights down, all the attention on us as we scattered out of the tunnel onto the rink. Everything was bigger, faster, and brighter with the Blaze. There wasn’t huge applause when I was announced, but there was some. We were playing an American team, so I got to hear The Star-Spangled Banner as well as O Canada that was sung at every game.

Then I turned to the goal, ran my blocker over the bars and my stick across the goal line. And I hoped like hell this wouldn’t be a disaster.

* * *

I laced up my shoes, hair damp from the shower, smile permanently stretching my face.

“Good game, Mitch!”

“You too, Ducky,” I called back.

He was being generous. I’d let in three goals. But the team had scored five, so I had another win. I hadn’t started well, letting in two goals in the first half of the first period, but then a couple shots hit the crossbar, and I began to trust that my goal was going to help me out. Once I felt better, I played better. Still, I was damned lucky the other goalie had a worse night than me.

Petey was gone before I was out of the shower. The team had me answer some press questions after the game, kind of like I’d expected the first time I played. I’d been careful in my responses about the video, and Jayna and Faith. The best hockey player as far as team management was concerned was the most boring player when it came to the press, and I was the best little player I could be.

Now it was time to meet my parents and Jayna, and the nerves were gone. We didn’t have to pretend we were really dating, and they’d like her. She’d like them too—my parents were great.

I took a last check in the mirror. I’d had the suit dry cleaned after that night at Jayna’s—pushing that memory down fast—and I looked pretty good. I headed out to meet them.

The few games I’d played as backup I’d been out early, and there’d been a lot of people milling around, waiting for their person. I was later tonight, and it wasn’t hard to spot my folks.

Mom ran to hug me, looking up with shining eyes. “You did so good!”

I hugged her tightly. “Not that good, but I’ll take the win.”

Dad slapped my back. “Proud of you, Braydon.”

“It’s so great to see you both.” On my AHL salary, living on the outskirts of expensive Toronto, I hadn’t been able to fly them out to see me very often, and during the season I was tied up and couldn’t fly home myself.

“Let me see if I can find Jayna. She was working, so…”

I looked around. Before I could spot her, I heard an unfamiliar male voice demanding “Where is the kid?”

The kid the guy was looking for could have been anyone’s child, but I turned my head and met blue eyes, narrowed as they looked at me. I’d only seen this face in photos, but I knew it. Same blond hair as me, same height, same eyes. Frank Devereaux. I froze.

He barreled his way over. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Mitchell. My name is Frank Devereaux and the way you talked about my daughter?—”

There was a gasp behind me, and I finally managed to make my limbs move. I turned to see my mother, white as a ghost, with her hand on her chest, staring at Frank.

Devereaux paused his tirade, following my gaze to see who I was looking at instead of him. He blinked, pivoted his gaze back to me. And then, in an almost comical double take, looked back at my mom.

My dad, eyes flicking between me and Frank and my mom, questioned if she was okay. “Bree?”

That did it. I saw the gears moving in Frank’s brain. The shocked woman, the familiar face, the name, Bree, short for Brianna…and then back to me.

Seeing all the features I’d noted on him. Probably putting together Faith and me in that first game and understanding my rant. I wished I hadn’t done it, hadn’t let him know he had any impact on me, but it was too late for that.

“Brianna…Windsor?”

My dad, the one who raised me, stepped in front of Mom. “Brianna Mitchell.”

Frank shook his head. “Yes, but when I knew her?—”

Heads were turning now. Disaster was rolling out and I couldn’t think of a single thing to do to stop it. He was going to either flat-out say he’d had an affair with my mom, with me standing beside them looking like him, or he’d have people curious enough to start looking into my story.

“There you are!” Jayna interrupted, and I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my life. “I was finally able to get away. These are your parents?”

Jayna was smiling, but she pushed between me and Frank, separating him from my mom.

“Wait, I have questions?—”

Jayna turned to Frank. “Sorry, Mr. Devereaux, but we have plans.” She put her free arm, the one not holding her cane, around my mom, turning her away from Frank. “You must be Brianna Mitchell. Braydon has told me so much about you. I’m sorry I was late, but this is my job.”

My mom threw a glance over her shoulder, but Dad and I were right behind her, and she turned back to Jayna. She managed a smile. Not quite sticking the landing, but an effort. “Braydon told us you work for the team, but you play hockey as well.”

“Yes, I do, and I can’t wait to get back on the ice. Still getting the knee working again. I know a great place where we can talk and not have too much of a crowd. After tonight’s game, I’m sure a lot of people will be interested in Braydon.”

Mom let herself be swept down the hallway to where I’d parked my truck.

Dad caught my eye. “Smart girl there.”

I nodded. Very smart.

* * *

Jayna

The plane landed in Boston on time and without event. I’d left my cane behind. My knee felt strong enough, and traveling with it? A bitch. Not to mention that the way I fidgeted the whole flight I was likely to whack myself with the cane.

I just had my carry-on with me, and had gone through US Customs in Toronto, so I was quickly out of the airport and on my way to the arena.

I wished my nerves were all about the game. The Bonfire were playing the third game of their playoff series against Boston tomorrow. Boston had won Friday night, and the Bonfire Saturday night. Whoever won tomorrow would continue on to the playoff final game next weekend.

The Blaze didn’t play tonight or tomorrow, so I could finally be here for my team at a playoff game. One of the drawbacks of my expanded publicity responsibilities was prioritizing the Blaze. Money talked, and I had to walk with it. It was a treat to be here, but I would have been a lot happier if there wasn’t a risk of something blowing up in Toronto while I was gone. Still, there was something I could do here to help with damage control.

I went straight to the arena, where practice was wrapping up. Coach was taking it easy since the team had just played two hard games, but there was still a charge in the air. This was it—the playoffs. Lose tomorrow and we went home, season over. Win, and we were in the finals.

I slid into a seat near the glass, carry-on beside me, watching as Coach called the team in for her last words. Then she dismissed them, and I headed to the visitor dressing room. I’d been here many times and the way was familiar. No security, because our team didn’t attract a lot of attention, even for the playoffs.

I stood in the doorway for a minute before anyone noticed me, and my worry faded. It was so familiar—girls changing, chatting about what they’d been doing on the ice, heading for showers, complaining about the floors in the shower rooms. I should be here.

I would be here, next season. I had one more year on my contract with the Bonfire, and I wanted to be offered another.

“Tempo!” I shoved those thoughts aside as Anna Randall, the team captain, called my name.

“Randy! You guys did great last night.”

More of the women turned my way, offering comments and teasing. I was welcomed, even though I had nothing to offer them on the ice. But these were my girls, my ride or die group. Something I’d lose if I didn’t get back on my skates.

I needed to talk to Megan, but first, the team went out for dinner. A big group, and I took pictures to post online. The extra money I got from working for the Blaze was great, but it meant I sometimes missed this.

There was some teasing about my boyfriend, but I quickly diverted them to their upcoming game and got through it without lying too much. I didn’t like hiding the truth with the team, but too many people already knew about the fake dating. If it got out, people would be angry at the Blaze for manipulating them, but they’d also be angry with me and Braydon.

If the real reason for his rant was revealed…

I headed to the team hotel with Megan. Finally. It was a nice, plain, chain hotel room, just across the river from the arena. We shared a room, like we did when we played together.

Megan flipped on the light and flopped down on her bed. “Okay, spill. I’ve hardly seen you lately, what with working and practice. And you’re never home, it seems. What’s up with your fake boyfriend, and how is rehab going?”

I set my bag by the other bed and grabbed the extra pillows to make a backrest. There was nothing to discuss about my knee—still working on it, still not ready. That wasn’t why I was here. But how to start that conversation? “My parents came in to watch Braydon play.”

Megan turned to face me. “Okay, that had to be shitty.”

I sighed and looked at the ceiling. “They tried to forget I play and just fawned all over him. Well, you know them. They don’t care about my career, but an NHL one? Yeah, they loved that. Braydon kept making me part of the conversation. I mean, not that I wasn’t talking, but he bragged about my Olympic medal, like he was my real boyfriend supporting me. And when I’d had it with them, he left with me after telling them off.”

Megan lifted her head. “He did?”

“He did. It was amazing. Like, their heads were going to explode because a male hockey player was impressed by me. So I kissed him and took him home.”

Megan sat up with a big grin. “Tell me you slept with him.”

I nodded.

Megan pumped her fist. “You deserve that. I hope he gave excellent orgasm.”

I smirked. “Twice.”

Megan lifted a hand, and I fake high-fived her across the space between the beds.

“At least now you can get some while you’re tied up in this fake dating relationship.”

My stomach clenched and I shook my head. “Nah, it was a one-time thing.”

“Why? Why not get some of that while you can?”

“Because it’s not real.”

Megan scoffed. “Like you can’t sleep with someone unless you’re really dating. Come on, Tempo, I know you better than that.”

It felt…wrong. Like I was getting orgasms under false pretenses if we made hooking up part of our arrangement. Or maybe I was drawing this line so I remembered it was fake. Braydon was attractive, kind, and shared my passion for hockey, but that was the problem. I didn’t do hockey players. Not for real. Instead, I diverted to the real conversation I wanted to have with her. “I need to talk to you about something else. This is secret, okay?”

“More secret than fake dating?”

“Yeah. This is real. Something happened, and I’m not sure what the fallout is going to be, and someone close to Faith needs to know.”

Megan twisted upright, legs crossed and facing me. “Sounds serious. You sure you want to tell me?”

Once we were back from this game, I was going to be tied up with the Blaze almost exclusively. If the Bonfire lost tomorrow, that was it. If they won, they’d have one more game next weekend, the championship. And of course it was on a night the Blaze had a home game. As Braydon’s girlfriend and the Blaze SM coordinator, I had to be with them. After all, a good girlfriend wouldn’t let her boyfriend risk another drunken rant.

But someone had to be available to help Faith. Because who knew what Frank would do?

“There’s a reason Braydon went off on Faith that night. Obviously, nothing to do with me. Braydon’s parents told him something after that game that threw him.”

Megan rested her chin on her hands, elbows on her thighs. “This is going to drive me crazy if you aren’t planning to share, Tempo.”

“Someone else knows the secret now and I’m not sure what he’s going to do. I want you to be ready to help if needed. But you have to swear you won’t tell unless it all comes out.”

“I know it involves Faith. I can’t promise if it’s going to hurt her.”

I lifted my hand, palm up. “Would I be part of this if I thought it would? The only way it’s a problem for her is if it goes public. You two are friends and you work together in your day jobs, so you can be there for her, right?”

She nodded. “One hundred percent.”

I hadn’t doubted it. “You know Faith’s biggest problem with her dad.”

“That he can’t keep it in his pants? Yeah, she told me once.”

“Yeah, well, one of those pairs of pants had a kid.”

Megan’s eyes widened. “Really? Wait, do you mean…Braydon?”

I nodded.

“Seriously? That’s—that’s crazy. And they’re both goalies?”

“It seems there’s some genetic connection with that.”

Megan’s mouth had dropped open. She closed it and swallowed. “Who knows?”

“Before that game, his mom and adopted father were the only ones.”

She pursed her lips. “Not Frank?”

“He gave her money for an abortion and bailed.”

Megan shook her head. “Wish I could say that surprised me, but…”

“So, Faith was a last-minute emergency goalie that night, and Braydon’s mom got a shock. And I guess she asked Braydon after if he met Frank, and he worked it out somehow. It brought up some issues—he had a tough time getting to play hockey, and his biological father helped Faith, and…”

“Still easier for him than Faith.”

I nodded. “He’s figured that out now, based on the way he stood up for me with my parents.”

“Who else knows?”

“Frank Devereaux.”

Megan’s eyes almost bugged out of her head. “Did Mitchell tell him?”

“ No , no.” I defended him. “His parents were at the last Blaze game. Frank decided he had to speak to Braydon. Braydon’s mom turned white as a sheet, Frank saw her, and I guess recognized her? Then he looked at Braydon, and when you know…”

Megan nodded. “They do look a lot alike. I mean, they have the same coloring and build. Their features are a little different, but yeah. If you suspect something, there’s a lot of similarities there.”

“I got his parents out of there, and they went straight to their hotel. Braydon went with them and I had to fly here today. He told me his mom was shocked, and they switched to an earlier flight out so they didn’t run into Frank again. I don’t know what Frank is going to do. Tell everyone, or keep it quiet?”

Megan lay back. “That’s…a lot. Wow. Going to be hard on Faith if everyone knows.”

“Is Frank going to want everyone to know his son is playing in the NHL? Like, will that be something his ego wants out there? If it was my Dad, definitely. And then Faith’s mom. If she finds out, how will she feel?”

Megan pointed out something I hadn’t considered. “And if people know, what’s it going to do to Braydon’s team? I mean, we’d all have Faith’s back, but Cooper will be Team Faith. He’s her daughter’s godfather and her husband is his best friend.”

What a fuckup it could be. “Anyway, I just wanted someone to know. I support Faith, but I have to keep up this dating thing with Braydon so I don’t know where I’ll be if this comes out.”

“I’ll be there for her,” Megan promised. “And I’ll let her know you want to be there too. Maybe we’ll be lucky. Maybe Frank will keep his mouth shut.”

We exchanged looks. If we’d learned anything from Faith, it was that she didn’t trust her father. So we couldn’t either.