Page 28

Chapter 28

There was always hope

Braydon

We won our first series of the playoffs and life got even more intense. We couldn’t add more physical training, since it was the end of the season and most of the guys were pushing against exhaustion. But we had video to watch, and Cooper organized a lot of team events while we were on the road. Dinners, movies, different outings to help with morale. When we were on the road we were always together, and when we were at home there was always a chance to hang out with teammates.

I’d been worried about Jayna, but that meeting with Cooper and Faith to get something going for her had turned things around in the best way. It had relit that fire inside her. Seeing the interest in her eyes, the excitement in her voice when she talked—it made me feel incredible.

She’d set up a website for her new company and reached out to different organizations about her business. And she picked up the reins on my project and ran with it.

I gave her the information I had, and wow. I’d set up the idea, got some guys to agree, and planned to work out the details when I was done with the playoffs. Jayna nailed everything down. She didn’t take over—she asked me about every decision she made. It was less work for me. But somehow, whenever I got focused on watching some extra game film on my own, or wanted to just get into my hockey mindset, juggling or stretching, she had more questions. She stayed over almost every night I was home, working on the project, or her business, or having sex. I couldn’t dampen that spark by asking her to back off.

I loved the sex. Waking up with her. Watching her become the strong woman I’d first met again. I wanted to ask how she was feeling about hockey and especially us. Did she think we had a future?

But I held back. What if she said this was fun but she wasn’t going to get serious about a hockey player? What if I had to choose between dating Jayna and playing hockey? Or what if I didn’t even have a choice? Would that be worse for my game than not knowing? There was always hope, until I asked.

The guys on the team were all tired and bruised, hiding injuries. The first series, against Philly, had been six games. The second round was a brutal seven games including several overtimes against a strong Florida team. They’d been favored to win, but we’d pulled it out. Now we were playing Montreal for the conference championship. I was the only one on the team without a lot of mileage.

The potential last game of the series was in Toronto. We expected a close, vicious contest. We were up three games to two, and it was our home ice. But sometimes shit just happened.

Two of their forwards collided five minutes in, and somehow fell hard enough to keep them both off the ice for the rest of the game. Their goalie missed a couple of easy shots, while Petey made a highlight reel save that energized us even more. At the end of the second period we were up 5-0 and they’d had their top defenseman expelled from the game for making homophobic comments about the referee. They managed to get a puck in their own net, and it was all over. Coach decided to give our top lines a break. Petey was called out, and I was in.

I skated out, sliding my glove over the bars, my stick across the goal line. Crash skated by, asked if I was ready.

I nodded and hoped I was.

Montreal got back on the ice with renewed energy, but they were facing an uphill battle and they knew it. I stopped a couple of shots, Crash scored another goal, and that broke what little hope they had. We played till the final whistle, but the stands were emptying as the clock wound down.

The handshake was anticlimactic. But it was a relief. I could play. I didn’t have to choose between helping Jayna and keeping my game up.

* * *

Jayna

The city was hockey mad. Our crosstown rivals had gone out in the second round, and the Blaze were in the finals. They were playing Minnesota, which might not be as big a market as, say, LA, but it had rabid fans. Minnesota had been playing exceptionally these playoffs, overcoming the favored Edmonton team in the Western conference finals, and everyone expected a good Cup series.

The team had a few days off before the finals started. Braydon had gone into the optional practice, since he was rested and wanted to help however he could. I got a call from Cooper, asking me to meet him for lunch. Surprising, since he’d been busting his ass throughout the playoffs leading the team and it wasn’t like him to skip even an optional skate. I agreed. He might have some leads for work, but I would make it very clear that I wasn’t going to abuse my connections. What they’d done already, Cooper and Faith and Braydon, was enough. I was ready to take this on by myself.

We met in a little hole-in-the-wall I’d never heard of. The owners were some of the few non-hockey-crazy people in the city. Nothing hockey-related was on display in the restaurant, and they didn’t react to Cooper’s presence. No one did.

We ordered our food at the counter and sat at a table while we waited for it to be brought to us. I cracked open my water bottle and grinned at the guy across the table. “This a soccer hangout?”

He looked around and shrugged. “Yeah, that or rugby. Nice to have a place where no one wants a selfie.”

“I promise not to ask you for one. What’s up?”

His smile dropped. “I’m going to tell you something in strict confidence. There will be a release coming from the team, but you deserve to know the truth.”

My stomach twisted. Was this about Braydon? Were they telling everyone about the fake dating?

“Radner is retiring.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

He nodded. “After the playoffs. I talked to some people about what happened with you and Braydon. Let’s just say that’s not the kind of behavior the team supports.”

I rolled my eyes. “Right.”

Cooper shook his head. “I get it. They’re a corporation, they’re all about the bottom line, and they don’t support the Bonfire the way they should and could. But they did something wrong here. I called them on it, and they’re doing something about it instead of sweeping it under the rug.”

“They’re going to tell everyone about the fake dating, the proposed breakup—all of that?”

“No. That would hurt you and Braydon more than Radner. But internally, people know. They won’t do anything like that again.”

I huffed a breath. It was something. If this meant no one else would be sacrificed that way for a player’s reputation, it was a step anyway. “Okay. Thanks.”

He shrugged. “I have standards myself, and I don’t want to be the face of an organization that does that. As their face, I have clout. You’re going to get an offer from them.”

My eyes widened. “They want me to work there again?” Even with Radner gone, I didn’t want that. I wasn’t desperate now—I was done with that job.

His lips twisted. “No. They’ve got the Inferno guy working on it full-time, since the Inferno playoff run ended last week. But they’re offering you a better severance package, and some counseling.”

“Counseling?”

“When a player has to retire prematurely, because of an injury or illness, it’s the right thing to do.”

Cooper had arranged that. “Thank you. Truthfully, I don’t want to talk to anyone, but I know I should.”

“No shame in it. It helped Hunts.”

I shook my head. “It’s not a shame thing. I just don’t want to dig into those feelings.”

There was no trace of his smirk now. “It’s your call.”

I sighed and looked away. “I’ll do it. Maybe not right away, but I know it’s important. What about Kira?”

“She’s gone.”

My feelings were conflicted when it came to her. She’d been doing what Radner told her, but it hadn’t been her idea. Pretty sure I knew who got the better sendoff between those two.

I looked back at the face of the Toronto Blaze. “You know, Cooper, you actually make a pretty good argument for male hockey players. You’re not all assholes.”

He grinned. “We should use that as a slogan.”

Our food arrived. It smelled delicious. But after that news I was inclined to be pleased with anything.

Cooper scooped up a mouthful of something I couldn’t pronounce. “With the reduction of assholes in the organization, think you might want to come to a game again?”

Would I? Had I moved on enough? Knowing that Kira and Radner were gone? “Maybe. If I could get a ticket. The scalper prices are insane.”

He rolled his eyes. “If only you knew someone. Let’s eat. I’ve got press to do after this.”