Page 12 of Playmaker

It was a ton of work, and the schedule was demanding as hell, but I loved every minute of it. After taking the long, bumpy way to get this career, I was determined to savor all of it, even the tedious and exhausting parts.

Today, we’d had a great on-ice practice, and now everyone was stripping off gear, showering, and dressing. Then we’d go eat before joining our coaches in the auditorium for a team meeting.

After my shower, I pulled on a T-shirt and gym shorts. Then I wiped the towel over my face before tying my hair back into an unruly ponytail. Even now, almost two years after my divorce, I sometimes got a little rush of rebelliousness when I put my hair up like that.

“Would it kill you to just put it back in a normal ponytail?” Ty had groused one morning. “Like, a tidy one instead of…that?”

“It’s just to keep it out of my face,” I’d replied. “I don’t need to look put together while I’m doing housework.”

The way he’d rolled his eyes had made my stomach turn. So did his remark of, “Then let’s just hire a damn housekeeper. I shouldn’t have to trade my wife’s appearance for a clean house.”

I’d decided I was too tired to fight with him, so I’d switched to tidier ponytails after that. And we’d hired a housekeeper. And I’d kept doing my hair the way he wanted to because it just wasn’t worth the attitude I’d get if I didn’t.

Now Ty was gone and I could do whatever I damn well pleased with my own hair. It was a minor thing—a petty one, really—but it felt good, so… fuck it.

“I thought guyslikedmessy ponytails,” my sister had mused a few weeks after I’d left his ass and moved in with her. “What was his damage about it?”

“What was his damage about anything?” I’d muttered. “He didn’t like it braided, either. Probably because that was how I used to wear it when I played hockey.”

These days, with some time and distance to cool my emotions, I thought that might’ve been close to the truth. Ty had always resented any reminders that I’d ever played hockey—he hadn’t even liked my trophies being on display—and I’d eventually sussed out that it was because those often segued into the fact that I’d played hockeywell. He’d barely made it into major juniors, and he’d been undrafted into the men’s league. Though he’d eventually been signed and made a name for himself, especially in recent years, his lackluster professional start still bugged him. Sometimes I thought it grated on him to be around or even hear about my dad or brother, because they’d both been first overall draft picks for major juniorsandthe pros.

Being married to a woman who’d also been selected first overall to her major juniors? Even if women’s hockey was barely above beer league? Yeah, I was pretty sure that stung.

In my pettiest moments, I wondered if it bothered him that I was playing at this level now. Maybe I hadn’t been drafted—over his dead body would I have declared myself for the draft when the WHPL started—but I’d eventually made it here and was making a name for myself.

Bet that just eats at you, doesn’t it, Ty?

The thought made me chuckle. I tried not to dwell on my divorce, and those petty moments of“fuck you, Ty”were less and less common as time went on. But what could I say? They weresosatisfying sometimes. And apparently today I was feeling extra catty for some reason.

I let my gaze drift across the locker room, and it landed right on Hamilton, who was pulling on a hoodie.

Ah. Right.Thatexplains my uptick in cattiness.

Meh. Whatever. She and Ty could both eat a dick. I had a life to live and a career to enjoy, and I didn’t have time for either of their bullshit.

As we all finished getting dressed, Coach Reilly stood in the middle of the room at the edge of the Pittsburgh Bearcats logo. “Great practice today, ladies. You’ve got ten minutes before the press comes in. Before we let them in, though…” She smiled. “We’ve got a little announcement about your team’s leadership going forward. Your alternate captains for our inaugural season are Jenny Valentine and Joanna Lawson.” She nodded toward me. “And your captain is Sabrina McAvoy.”

Some heat bloomed in my face for some reason as my teammates applauded, and someone called out, “Captain Mac!” I’d known about the captaincy already—Coach had told me last night to make sure I was willing to take it on—but it always felt more real when the team knew. I’d worn a C on my jersey before,and I was thrilled to be wearing one again. Especially at this level.

As our teammates congratulated me and our two alternate captains, Iwantedto not notice Hamilton’s reaction. Iwantedto be completely oblivious to her and the subtle eyeroll that the towel she was using on her hair didn’t quite hide.

No luck, unfortunately.

Eh. She could live with it. If she couldn’t, she could always ask the GM to send her someplace else. Sure wouldn’t break my heart if that happened.

Minutes after Coach’s announcement, the press descended on the room. Since we were a new team, there was a lot of interest in us from both local networks and the larger syndicated sports networks. I wondered if there would be this much press after this season.

Secretly, behind my media-trained smile, I hoped at leastsomeof them would lose interest. It was no secret that some sports reporters thought about as highly of women’s hockey as my father did, and at best, their reporting was laced with the usual misogyny. Asking some players about juggling hockey and motherhood. Zeroing in on stats about our bodies instead of our performance. Even getting our thoughts on the aesthetics of our jerseys and team colors. It was tiresome to say the least, and I was pretty sure that while many were well-meaning, there were a few who were subtly trying to delegitimize the sport.

Like the asshat who started asking Anya Apalkov questions as she toweled off her hair at the stall next to mine.

“Are you concerned about the effect this is going to have on your children?” the guy asked with a perfectly straight face. “With the amount of traveling you’ll be doing?”

Anya shrugged, tossing the towel onto the bench behind her. “Of course no one wants to be away from their kids, but it’s strange how no one asks my husband the same questions.” Shelooked the reporter right in the eyes. “Colin and the kids will manage while I’m on the road the same way they and I manage when he’s on the road.”

“So you don’t think it’s concerning for children to be separated from their mothers as often as players in this league have to travel?”

Laws and I exchanged incredulous looks.

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