Page 36 of Playing to Win

I was messing this up so badly. “Sorry, I just haven’t seen you look like this before.”

Jayna shrugged. “Gotta keep the puck bunnies away.”

Oh, right.She hadn’t dressed for me, but for her job as my girlfriend. I’d run across the jersey chasers before and even hooked up with a couple, but my focus was on improving my hockey game before anything else so I mostly avoided them. Luke teased me, but I hadn’t ever had a good game after a hookup, so I wasn’t risking my future for sex.

Girls hung out with the Inferno guys, some looking for fun, some for a long-term thing. There would be more with the Blaze. Unless they were pissed by that video of me, or weren’t interested in a backup goalie…and why was I thinking about this? I couldn’t hook up with someone while I was dating Jayna, even if it wasn’t real. I didn’t want to.

We headed down the corridor to the players’ parking lot. She gripped my arm tightly, using me for support rather than her cane.

“Sorry, first time in heels since the accident. They’re low, but still not made to support my feet.”

I lowered my voice, not needing to duck to talk to her. Or to kiss her— “It’s safe for your knee?”

“My physio people said I could try it for a short time.”

I glanced over her again. “The look is worth it. Um, something we should mention but didn’t talk about, but I won’t…you know, hook up while we’re doing this.”

Jayna didn’t respond for a moment. “I guess that’s the same for me.”

My mouth opened, but I shut it firmly. I didn’t want to know who Jayna dressed up like this for if it wasn’t me. It wasn’t reasonable, but I felt jealous. Which made no sense. These last few days my emotions were all over the place.

My truck looked even less impressive than my suit next to the vehicles the other players had. I kept it mostly clean, but I wasn’t spending money on a new car when I had a perfectly adequate one. Maybe if I signed an NHL contract, but that wasn’t helping tonight.

“Sorry, it’s not very fancy.” Especially not when Jayna was dressed up. She deserved something like Cooper’s Ferrari.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got a shitbox car that looks a lot like your truck. I just haven’t been able to drive it with my knee.”

Right.The women players didn’t get paid much.

At least I opened the door for her. Then I slipped into the driver’s seat. “Do you know where this place is, or should I ask my phone for directions?”

“I’ve got it. I even know a place to park.”

I’d just turned the truck on when Jayna’s phone rang. She dug into her purse while I pulled into the line behind a Land Rover already heading to the exit. It belonged to one of the married guys—there was a cute little line of hockey player decals showing two parents, three kids and a dog.

“Hey.” Her voice was flat.

I tried not to eavesdrop, but inside the cab I didn’t have anything else to hear. Turning on music while she was talking would be rude. She didn’t ask me to stop the truck, so I distracted myself by running through the Blaze roster to guess who was ahead of us.

“You heard, eh?”

Her voice…sounded sad. Resigned. Like when I was told I wasn’t on the draft radar. Expecting bad news, but still disappointed to get it. It didn’t sound like a good call.

“It’s new.”

This time, the silence filled up with tension, all coming from the woman beside me and her reaction to whoever was on the phone.

“Of course you do. By the way, I’m still doing rehab. Want a ticket to a game when I’m playing again?” Jayna’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the phone. “My team is in the playoffs. For those who care.” She drew in a long, careful breath. “Yeah, I’ll let you know. Bye, Mom.”

She dropped the phone on her lap, her body vibrating with the control she was exerting. I pulled off into an empty parking space. Something was very wrong here.

I idled for a few moments while she stared blankly out the windshield.

Finally, she blinked a couple of times and turned to me. “Sorry, did I not give you directions?”

“I thought you might need a minute. You seemed upset.”

She glared at the phone resting in her lap. “Yeah, well, that’s what talking to Mom does.”

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