Page 20

Chapter 20

Better out than in

Braydon

Jayna fell asleep on the way back to Oakville. She didn’t look totally comfortable, her neck twisted against the glass, but it was probably easier to sleep than deal with whatever her doctor had told her.

It obviously wasn’t good. How bad was it, to have her drinking in a bar alone? My brain shied away from the thought, because it couldn’t be that she wasn’t going to play hockey again. Hockey was Jayna’s whole reason for life. The videos of her playing? She was incredible. It wouldn’t be fair if she couldn’t play. Probably they’d told her there was going to be more delay. Maybe another surgery. That would be upsetting enough, right?

I’d texted Luke to let him know I was coming back with Jayna, and that she wasn’t in a good space.

This is your fake girlfriend you’re bringing back?

Yeah

And she’s not dealing with this with her friends?

I got what he was saying. It didn’t make sense to him that Jayna would want to be with me instead of her friends if she needed support. But her friends were her teammates, and this must be something she didn’t want to talk about with them. My stomach clenched as the implications of that tried to make themselves known, but I shoved the thought back down.

At least Luke wouldn’t say anything to Jayna when we came in. I’d take her to my room, let her talk, or not. I’d make her drink some water and take some painkillers so she wouldn’t feel as bad tomorrow. Then I’d leave her to sleep.

I parked in front of the townhouse. Jayna was still asleep against the door. I rounded the truck and opened the passenger door, catching her as she slid partway out until only the shoulder strap of the seat belt held her up.

Her eyes blinked open. “Where am I?”

“You’re at my place, Oakville.”

She looked around. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know you don’t. I’ll help you in, and then you can slee—” I broke off as she brought her hand to her mouth, her stomach heaving. I jumped back before she vomited on the driveway.

She leaned back in the truck, eyes closed, face sweaty. “Oh, god…”

“It’s okay. Better out than in, right? Think you can come inside now?”

Her eyes opened. “Did I…on you?”

“Nah.” I smiled at her. “Quick reflexes here.”

It would take some maneuvering to get her out of the truck and avoid the vomit on the ground, but this wasn’t the first time I’d had to do this. My teammates were often stupid, while I kept to my two-beer rule.

I was able to reach around her and unlatch the seat belt. Jayna lay back, obviously feeling horrible. After a quick run-through of our options, I leaned forward and gripped her below her knees and around her back. I had her in my arms and halfway to the door before she understood what I was doing.

“Wait— You can’t?—”

I set her down by the steps, where a railing was available for her to hang on to. “Can you stay here while I get the truck door shut?” I could come back and clean the driveway later, but I didn’t want to leave the truck open for who knew how long.

She nodded, clinging to the railing.

I was back in a moment. “You okay for the steps?”

She waved a hand. “Of course.”

I still kept an arm around her, supporting her as we climbed. I pushed the door open so she could walk in. She tripped over the sill. Only my arm held her upright. “I think I’d better help.” I scooped her up again and headed for the stairs.

Luke was in the living room, playing the same video game I’d dropped out of when Jayna answered my call. His eyebrows shot up when he saw us, but he didn’t say anything, just smirked.

I climbed the stairs, not exactly easily—because Jayna wasn’t a lightweight and I had to twist sideways to keep from hitting her head—but I got her safely into my room and set her gently on the bed.

“I could have walked,” she grumbled.

“I know.” She’d have got here with bruises and probably had to crawl up the stairs, but the agreement calmed her. I went to the bathroom to fill a water bottle and get some painkillers.

When I came back, Jayna was still on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“You’ll feel better in the morning if you can manage these.” I sat on the bed, holding out two tablets in my hand.

She took them and swallowed, washing them down with the water. She passed back the water bottle.

“So, um, if you want to sleep, I can give you a T-shirt. And I could stay on the couch.” She wasn’t feeling great now, so I would respect that and give her space.

She slowly shook her head. She was lying down again, staring at the ceiling. “No, I’m not kicking you out of your bed. You’ve got a game to play tomorrow.”

More likely a bench to warm, but it was like Jayna to think of that. She shuffled over to the far side of my bed, so I stretched out beside her. Did she want to talk? Cuddle? Sleep? “I can turn out the light if you want.”

She shrugged, so I leaned my arm out and switched off the lamp. For a moment the room was dark, before ambient light coming in through the blinds revealed the shadowy shapes of my dresser and desk, and the woman lying still next to me.

“Have you ever thought about what you’ll do after hockey?”

The question was a blade, slicing through me. Without telling me what the doctors had said, she’d let me know. And I hated it. I wanted to ask her exactly what they’d said and if she’d considered if they were wrong, but I held back. Jayna wasn’t an idiot. She’d have asked for any kind of hope. She’d asked me a particular question, so I would answer that.

“Yeah.” I gave her a quick glance, but she was still on her back staring at the ceiling.

“Really?”

I shrugged. “You know my story. I didn’t know if I’d ever play hockey professionally. I wanted to, badly enough that I didn’t like to think about not playing, but my parents made me sit down and review all the possibilities.”

“What did you decide?”

“We came up with a plan for every outcome that was an option. I was in college then, and that might have been the end of hockey. I took a business major and was gonna look for a job in Billings, or maybe Minneapolis. Should be able to get a job there, and I had this project I wanted to work on, my own thing, and I could do that while I was working. That was Plan…C, I guess?”

“And if you played hockey?”

“That was plans A and B. B was if I had a chance to play professionally. Not the NHL, but the AHL, or Europe or something. I’d be farther away, but it would give me more chances to connect with people for this project. We looked at average salaries and how many years it might be, and worked out a budget. Figured I could come back to Montana and still get a business job.”

Until recently, that was as far as I thought I’d go.

“Plan A, the ultimate dream, was making it to the NHL.”

When Mom and Dad and I sat at the table, working out these possibilities, the NHL seemed improbable after not being drafted. I’d been afraid to consider it, sure I’d jinx it by even making a what-if plan. But I was here now. At least for the rest of this season, however long it ran. And that was so much more than past me had thought could happen.

“What was the NHL plan? And what’s this project?”

“The NHL plan was not to spend all my money on sports cars or shit like that, since I could get injured or have a short career. Save up enough money in case I wasn’t able to work again.” I wasn’t sure she really wanted to know about my side thing.

“Tell me about this project, Mitchell. I want the distraction.”

Right. She might find it silly, but it would give her something else to think about.

“So, I grew up in a small town in Montana. Too small for an arena. There weren’t a lot of chances to play hockey—the hockey that gets you to the NHL. And we didn’t have money for gear and camps and shit like that.”

“I remember.”

“I got here because I worked really hard. And my parents were together and supported me, which made it easier than it could have been. Like, once I showed I had some talent, they remortgaged the house and Dad took on extra runs with the truck to make more money. This project I’m planning on, it’s to help kids who might not even have that kind of support.”

“Scholarships? Financial aid?”

I shook my head. “Maybe, if I make it big in the NHL, a lot of years from now I’d have money for that. But I’m starting this summer.”

Money could help, but the first big money I made was earmarked for my parents. Buy them a nice house, let them retire and travel if they wanted.

“I’ve been asking for secondhand equipment. Stuff the guys have outgrown, or they got new stuff and the old is still useful for a while. Or some guys get sponsorships and have to get rid of their non-sponsor stuff. I’ve asked some of my old college teammates and the Inferno guys to ask friends and family, people they know from back home. I was thinking of having a kind of database of gear available, and people could find out online if there was anything that they needed in their area. So far, I’ve only got Montana and Ontario.”

“If you’re getting college and farm team guys, then you’re getting mostly the bigger gear, for older kids.”

“Yeah, until we can reach out to more people. But the second part of my project might help with that.”

She thumped her arm on my stomach. “Come on, spit it out.”

“Okay. Some guys I played with in college, and Luke and Bats and a couple other Inferno guys, are going to help me this summer. We’re going to run two-day mini camps in little towns in Montana. Places that don’t have a lot of hockey resources. For kids that can’t afford to go anywhere else. We’re gonna help them, and if we find kids that have enough talent that hockey could be a chance to get somewhere—you know, maybe not professional hockey, but that could get scholarships to colleges or something? We’re going to get a list, try to follow up with them and get them in front of the people who offer scholarships and shit like that.”

Jayna was silent, and I tensed. I wasn’t reinventing the wheel here. There were charity camps and people trying to help young athletes. But there were cracks that kids vanished into. I’d been in those cracks. I could at least try to help someone else.

“Why didn’t this come up when I was looking into your history and social media?”

“Because I’m just starting this? It’s still mostly in my head.”

“The Blaze would support you.”

“What?”

“They’d eat up a promotional opportunity like this. Money, equipment, clothing—this is great promo for them.”

“Would they really want to support a program in Montana?”

“Hmmm. Not sure. You wouldn’t want to run it from here?”

“I’ve already started things back home. I know the places that don’t have a lot of hockey support in small towns there. I don’t know Ontario.”

“Anything in the Toronto area is pretty well covered. The places you could help would be up north, maybe Western Ontario.”

“And we’re talking towns of just a few hundred people—that’s what I’m looking at. Not big numbers. That’s why they don’t have much.” Jayna rolled on her side and I moved to face her. Now, with my eyes adjusted, I could almost see her expression.

“Is this just for boys, or are girls and nonbinary kids welcome too?”

I reached out, brushed my hand over her arm. “Honestly, when I started this I was only thinking about boys. But last week I reached out to the coaches and facilities I’d spoken to, and I asked them to invite girls as well. And now I’ll make sure it’s just kids, nothing gender defined to limit things.”

“You’re learning, Mitchell.”

“I’m trying. I really am.”

Jayna watched me for a minute. She swallowed, the sound audible in the quiet room. “I can’t play anymore.”

That was it. The worst-case scenario for her. No wonder she’d been at that bar drinking. Without thinking I reached out, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close. For a moment she resisted. Then she gave in, and I held her tightly against me.

“My knee isn’t going to be good enough again. I can’t play hockey.” And she burst into tears.

* * *

I got up too late to run after comforting Jayna for most of the night. I found Luke in the kitchen pouring out coffee.

“Enough for two?” I was short on sleep and needed to wake up.

Luke frowned but poured a cup for me, shoving creamer across the island along with the mug. I dropped my ass on the stool and stirred in the creamer. The first sip hit my mouth with a jolt. My shoulders dropped. This hit the spot.

I ran a hand through my hair. Maybe I should stay here. Jayna was going to feel like crap when she woke up after drinking so much, and she had the news about her knee to deal with.

Luke was still frowning.

“What?” Jayna and I didn’t have sex, so we hadn’t disturbed him. No need for him to look like someone had peed in his Wheaties.

“You didn’t go for a run.”

I flinched. I’d missed a few runs lately, but there was a lot going on. The runs and the early bedtimes had suffered, but I didn’t know Luke had been keeping track.

“I had to help Jayna. I’m not sure she’s okay on her own right now.”

He crossed his arms. “Really? I thought you were just pretending to date.”

I wasn’t pretending anymore, but I didn’t need Luke on my case. “I just want to be a decent person. Plus there’s no point being in condition if I’m not going to play because the Blaze drop me. Jayna’s helping rehab my image.” Which made me think of Jayna’s rehab. “Maybe I should skip practice today. I’m just sitting on the bench.”

He looked away and sighed. “Don’t fucking skip practice! I’m worried about you, Mitch. You worked hard to get here. You do that stupid superstitious shit because you want to play in the NHL permanently. Don’t throw that all away for a woman you’re not even really dating.”

I put the mug back on the island, holding back angry words.

“And saying you’re only backing up is bullshit. You’re playing because two fluke accidents happened. Hockey’s like that—things change in a moment.”

I stood up. He was right, but I was torn. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m not a kid. I’ll go to practice, but Jayna is still sleeping. Don’t bitch at her when she gets up, okay? She’s going through some bad stuff.”

Luke’s concern irritated me. Everyone teased me that I was too stuck in my routines, but change them just a bit and suddenly everyone was worried.

I shoved down the thought that maybe I didn’t know what I was doing.