Page 26 of Playing to Win

Then she turned and hobbled down the stairs. And the confidence left with her.

“Ready, Megan?”

I followed, my stomach churning. Megan was wearing her coat, Luke turning on the dishwasher. Jayna picked up her jacket, the only one left in the pile, and I took it from her, holding it up for her to put on. “Thanks for the beer and pizza, and, well, for helping me out.”

Megan smiled at me. Jayna just shrugged. “Don’t screw up anything else.”

Chapter9

The answer to a trivia question

Jayna

I let outa relieved breath as we walked out the door of Braydon’s townhouse. First performance over.

“Did we sell it?” I asked as we shoved the now empty cooler into the back of the Uber van waiting for us. I wasn’t sure about Cooper, but I thought the Inferno had bought the dating story.

“Luke knows, right?”

I nodded. Braydon had planned to tell his parents and Luke, but swore they would be the only people. I spoke to my own parents as rarely as possible, so I wasn’t telling them. My mother would urge me to make the dating real. Part of my antipathy to dating a hockey player was because my family would be so pleased. They were all about Y chromosome hockey.

Megan slammed the back door closed. “Those guys, the ones who just got free beer and pizza? I listened, and they’re convinced. That kiss—that was the clincher. Seriously, that looked real.”

I was glad we were outside in the dark because my cheeks were hot. That kissfeltreal. But Braydon was my job. He was still the guy who had to prove he wasn’t hiding some latent misogyny. And he was a hockey player. “But the rest of it—did we look like a couple?”

She grinned as she opened the side door. “If you lock lips as often as possible, then you’re golden. But you need to be a little more comfortable with each other. Less stiff.”

How was I supposed to be less stiff with someone I’d just met?

Megan shot the driver a glance, but she was getting her GPS set up and not paying us any attention. Still, she lowered her voice. “Maybe if you pretend he’s one of your old boyfriends, and act like that with him? I dunno. You did pretty good tonight for faking it with someone you’ve only known for a few hours.”

Pretty good wasn’t going to cut it though. Now that I’d committed, posted pictures with Braydon, it could endanger my non-hockey jobs if people knew we were lying to them.

Hopefully it wouldn’t affect my real job, hockey. “You guys ready for the playoffs?” I was ready for a diversion. “I might not get to many of your practices the rest of the week. Anything I do for the Blaze is supposed to come before the Bonfire.”

“We miss you, Tempo.”

Megan went on to talk about the woman who was taking my spot, right winger on the first line, and it was bittersweet. I wanted to know about my team, but it killed me to be on the sidelines. I wasn’t sure I was really part of them anymore. The PR position, only mine because I was still technically on the team, was my one solid connection.

At least this insanity with Braydon Mitchell was funding some additional therapy on my knee. It would all be worth it to get back on the ice this fall as a player.

* * *

I watchedthe tail end of the Blaze practice while I waited to prepare for the presser with Braydon.

Petrov was on limited movement for another day, as I’d already posted, so Braydon was getting a lot more attention. His teammates were treating him well, but Coach Salo, the goalie coach, was pushing him hard. It would be challenging for a coach to lose one of his goalies at this point in the season. Thank goodness Petey would be back on full workout tomorrow.

I texted Braydon that I was here and would meet him in the media room, and headed over. The Blaze preferred to do media here at their practice rink on non-game days. We had about an hour before the press conference, so I hoped he wouldn’t be too long cooling down and showering.

I sat in one of the hot seats at the front of the room with my laptop, scanning through posts, checking the comments, deleting some and occasionally blocking a poster. People were comfortable saying anything behind a screen name. I was finally able to do some work for the Bonfire accounts, and again, there were assholes, but this was the part I really loved.

“Jayna?”

I shook my head and looked up. Braydon was standing in the doorway, eyeing the table nervously, wearing Blaze practice gear, hair damp from his shower. I checked the time—we had about twenty-five minutes now before we let in the press.

I’d met with Kira and her boss before I’d gone to practice, the two of them debating whether I should be dressed in a skirt and pastel top to look more “dateable.” I’d worn dress pants, black since that was one of the team colors—the Blaze, Inferno and Bonfire shared the same black/yellow/red color scheme—and a Bonfire long-sleeved T-shirt. I was a player, damn it. I’d exaggerated how gross my knee was to prove to them that a skirt wasn’t a good choice, unless it was floor length, and that was getting into sister wives’ territory.

They’d had a stylist work on my hair, and I’d put on makeup just so they didn’t bring someone in for that. I hated the inference that I wasn’t enough on my own to be considered a dating prospect for this rookie. When I was playing hockey it didn’t matter what I looked like, since I was hidden under a helmet and pads. All that mattered was what I could do, and I could do a lot with a puck and a stick.

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