Page 8 of Playing to Win

“Not me. Not with a hockey player, and not while I’m playing.”

Megan tilted her head. “Seb has always been supportive, even when he was playing with the Blaze. They’re not all assholes like your brother.”

I shrugged. “The guys get all the attention, all the glory. When we’re with them, it’s like we disappear. I don’t want that. I’m a hockey player, not a WAG.”

“And when you retire some day?” Megan asked.

The buzz of conversation was still filling the condo. “Not a hockey player. I never want to be so-and-so’s girlfriend or wife. Jayna Templin, Olympic medalist, the best right winger in women’s hockey, with so-and-so. Not the other way around.”

I’d grown up in the shadow of my brother. In my family, and in the conservative parts of my hometown, women and girls were supposed to be in the stands, not on the ice. I’d fought to become one of the best female hockey players, and I wasn’t ready to be the little woman.

Megan huffed a breath. “I love to play, and our sport needs more of the spotlight, but as long as the guy was decent I’d be okay with dating a player.” I shot her a glance and she rolled her eyes. “A hockey player, not someone like Cooper.”

Like we’d summoned him, I heard steps and turned to see Cooper coming up the hallway behind us. In his arms was an eighteen-month-old toddler, looking much too awake for almost midnight. The level of noise dropped as people noticed Hailey.

“Look who I found.” Cooper grinned, Hailey pulling at his hair.

“She’s supposed to be sleeping.” Seb crossed over to his friend and his daughter.

“Kook!” the girl chanted. “Kook, Kook, Kook.”

Seb ran a finger down Hailey’s cheek. “You’re never going to fall asleep now, are you?”

Cooper dropped a kiss on her head. “This is a big night. She should remember the day her mother played in the NHL.”

“She’s too young,” Seb protested.

I stepped forward, phone camera ready. “Can I?” Cooper holding the little girl while she called him Kook was swoon-worthy, even if I wasn’t going to swoon over Cooper anytime soon.

Seb frowned, looking between my phone and his daughter.

“I won’t post it,” I promised. “I’ll send you a copy, and you can show her when she grows up. The night her mother made history.”

Faith had reached us by then. “What are you doing still up, Hailey?”

The toddler bit her lip. She pointed her finger at the man holding her. “Kook.” Then she reached her arms out to her mother. Faith took her daughter, who snuggled into her neck and put a thumb in her mouth.

“Jayna was going to take a picture for us to show Hailey when she gets older. Not to post.”

Faith’s smile almost split her face. “That would be great, Tempo. I’d love a photo, but I don’t want her picture out there, especially not after tonight.”

Cooper frowned. “Why not tonight?”

I stepped back, ready to frame a few shots. “There’s going to be a lot of haters out there, especially on socials. Upset that Faith not only played but played better than some of the men out there.”

Faith nodded, and Cooper’s brow pulled lower. “Assholes.”

Like one Braydon Mitchell. But no need to remind anyone. “Let’s forget them for now. We’re celebrating, and we want some pictures to show Hailey.”

I took shots of Hailey and her parents, Hailey and her parents and her godfather Cooper, Hailey with some of the Bonfire players, until eventually everyone had their photo taken with the toddler. Megan posed again with her, but Hailey had reached her limit. She yelled no and started to cry.

Seb took his daughter, hushing her gently as he rubbed her back. “I’ll put her down now.”

Cooper passed a hand over the blonde hair of the little girl and it was like a silent whistle blew. People headed to the door. It had been a momentous night, but life continued tomorrow.

I quickly checked the engagement on social media. Lots of positive support, along with the expected backlash. Most of that from either men who were threatened by women having athletic success, especially playing with men, or from women who felt sport was unfeminine.

Some days my job was daunting. People were too comfortable being nasty behind the anonymity of the internet. Other days, it was almost unfair to take money for what I did.

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