Page 22 of Playing to Win

Should I call him Braydon? Or Mitch, like his teammates did? I shivered. I’d never had a hockey player boyfriend, so I had no precedent. I’d never called previous boyfriends by their last names or nicknames. Damn it, why wasn’t there a playbook?

“Ready?” Megan asked. “You look a little nervous.”

“Why would I be nervous? I just have to sell that I’m dating a hockey player…who I met this morning.”

My toes were starting to tingle. Tired of waiting, and my nerves, I tried the doorknob, which turned in my hand. Megan rolled her eyes. Once the door was open, we were met by a wall of noise—music and voices—and a pile of coats and boots and shoes. The footwear was all size huge, and I had to shove them aside so we could get through with the cooler. Then we were exposed to the Inferno.

Video games played on a big-screen TV. The music switched from a twangy country number to a rap song, which made me wonder who was in charge of the song choices. I scanned through the forest of big male bodies to find “my” guy. When I did, I didn’t know whether to throw something at him or just turn around and walk out.

There were very few women here, and one was sitting on Braydon’s lap, arms twined around his neck. I was furious and a little hurt. This fake dating wasn’t helping my career. It could potentially hurt it if people found out it was a stunt. Yet here he was, blowing up our cover story in the douchiest possible way. I’d believed him when he’d been all apologetic in my office, believed that he was a nice guy who’d made a mistake because of some awkward circumstances. Now the asshole couldn’t keep his hands off another woman for a few fucking hours?

I would never accept someone disrespecting me like this, for my job or not. Yeah, athletes cheated—not a shocking bit of information—but not on me. I’d been fighting to be taken seriously all my life, and I refused to take anything less. Especially from someone I was trying to help. I’d pivoted on my good leg and taken a step for the door when the music suddenly cut off.

“Jayna!”

I wanted to keep walking, so fucking badly.My job, I reminded myself. Proving to Radner that starting Faith wasn’t a mistake. The money. I wished I could say fuck off to all of that, but that wasn’t realistic. I twisted back, reluctantly. “Yeah?”

The woman wasn’t on his lap any longer. From the way she was sprawled on the floor, Braydon must have shoved her off quickly. Not helping his case at all.

“Sorry—this isn’t what it looks like.”

My eyebrows shot up. I felt Megan behind me and knew I had her support. The game players were ignoring us, but the rest of the crowd was watching Braydon and the girl on the floor.

“Hey, assholes!” Braydon looked at his teammates and waved at me, saying, “This is Jayna. I told you I had a girlfriend. Stop sending the girls over.”

Everyone stared at me. Just like how the butterflies disappeared once I stepped on the ice, mine were gone. I wasn’t playing a hockey game but I did have a job to do. I might as well let everyone know what kind of girlfriend I planned to be. I took a couple of steps toward Braydon, poking with my cane to make sure I didn’t trip on something, or someone. Once I was standing in front of him, I crossed my arms, cane in my hand as I glared. “I better not see you with someone on your lap again.”

Braydon shook his head, eyes wide. “No, I swear. I told them to stop.”

Easy to say, and it didn’t mean he’d tried very hard. However, he knew what was at stake here, and he damn well better not piss me off any further. I heard some muttering, and I imagined the kinds of comments these dumbasses would make about someone like me. Too bad. I wasn’t changing.

I propped my free arm on my hip. “Want me to do the same, boyfriend?” I turned my glare on the rest of the guys in the room before jerking my head at Megan. “This is my teammate, Megan.”

A moment of silence.

“We brought beer,” Megan said.

The grumbles vanished in the presence of hops. I held my ground as the guys moved toward the entrance where Megan had left the cooler.

Braydon stood in front of me. “I really am sorry. The guys didn’t know—they thought they were doing me a favor. I swear, she’d just sat down when you arrived.”

I put a finger on his chest. “I’ve fought my whole life to be respected, as a hockey player and as a woman. And I will not go through with this if you’re not taking it equally seriously.”

His eyes were still a little wide, the blue standing out. I couldn’t really blame the puck bunny. If all I’d been looking for was a pretty face and muscled body, I’d have been all over this guy as well.

He crossed anXon his chest. “I swear, I am.”

I wanted to roll my eyes at that, but I’d made him pinky swear, so…

“Kiss and make up already!” The voice came from the kitchen.

I had no idea which teammate it was, and I didn’t care. As long as they believed Braydon and I were a couple, they didn’t matter. Braydon opened his mouth—to say what, I didn’t know—but it was time to start the dating game. I grabbed the front of his blue sweater and pulled him to me. “Showtime,” I muttered and then I kissed him.

I surprised him. For a moment, his lips under mine didn’t move, soft but totally passive. Then he got the idea and slid a hand to the back of my head. He tugged me closer, and damn, the boy could kiss. His lips pressed on mine, and his tongue licked at the seam of my mouth.

I forgot that this was a show. I wrapped myself up in the kiss, letting him in, hands clenched on his shirt and my body pressing up against his. Then the noise of the catcalls around us worked through my lust haze and I quickly snapped back to reality. This was fake.

I pulled back and he resisted, hand gripping my hair. I pushed against his chest and he immediately stepped back, hand dropping.

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