Page 65 of Playing to Win

I parked in front of the townhouse. Jayna was still asleep against the door. I rounded the truck and opened the passenger door, catching her as she slid partway out until only the shoulder strap of the seat belt held her up.

Her eyes blinked open. “Where am I?”

“You’re at my place, Oakville.”

She looked around. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know you don’t. I’ll help you in, and then you can slee—” I broke off as she brought her hand to her mouth, her stomach heaving. I jumped back before she vomited on the driveway.

She leaned back in the truck, eyes closed, face sweaty. “Oh, god…”

“It’s okay. Better out than in, right? Think you can come inside now?”

Her eyes opened. “Did I…on you?”

“Nah.” I smiled at her. “Quick reflexes here.”

It would take some maneuvering to get her out of the truck and avoid the vomit on the ground, but this wasn’t the first time I’d had to do this. My teammates were often stupid, while I kept to my two-beer rule.

I was able to reach around her and unlatch the seat belt. Jayna lay back, obviously feeling horrible. After a quick run-through of our options, I leaned forward and gripped her below her knees and around her back. I had her in my arms and halfway to the door before she understood what I was doing.

“Wait— You can’t?—”

I set her down by the steps, where a railing was available for her to hang on to. “Can you stay here while I get the truck door shut?” I could come back and clean the driveway later, but I didn’t want to leave the truck open for who knew how long.

She nodded, clinging to the railing.

I was back in a moment. “You okay for the steps?”

She waved a hand. “Of course.”

I still kept an arm around her, supporting her as we climbed. I pushed the door open so she could walk in. She tripped over the sill. Only my arm held her upright. “I think I’d better help.” I scooped her up again and headed for the stairs.

Luke was in the living room, playing the same video game I’d dropped out of when Jayna answered my call. His eyebrows shot up when he saw us, but he didn’t say anything, just smirked.

I climbed the stairs, not exactly easily—because Jayna wasn’t a lightweight and I had to twist sideways to keep from hitting her head—but I got her safely into my room and set her gently on the bed.

“I could have walked,” she grumbled.

“I know.” She’d have got here with bruises and probably had to crawl up the stairs, but the agreement calmed her. I went to the bathroom to fill a water bottle and get some painkillers.

When I came back, Jayna was still on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“You’ll feel better in the morning if you can manage these.” I sat on the bed, holding out two tablets in my hand.

She took them and swallowed, washing them down with the water. She passed back the water bottle.

“So, um, if you want to sleep, I can give you a T-shirt. And I could stay on the couch.” She wasn’t feeling great now, so I would respect that and give her space.

She slowly shook her head. She was lying down again, staring at the ceiling. “No, I’m not kicking you out of your bed. You’ve got a game to play tomorrow.”

More likely a bench to warm, but it was like Jayna to think of that. She shuffled over to the far side of my bed, so I stretched out beside her. Did she want to talk? Cuddle? Sleep? “I can turn out the light if you want.”

She shrugged, so I leaned my arm out and switched off the lamp. For a moment the room was dark, before ambient light coming in through the blinds revealed the shadowy shapes of my dresser and desk, and the woman lying still next to me.

“Have you ever thought about what you’ll do after hockey?”

The question was a blade, slicing through me. Without telling me what the doctors had said, she’d let me know. And I hated it. I wanted to ask her exactly what they’d said and if she’d considered if they were wrong, but I held back. Jayna wasn’t an idiot. She’d have asked for any kind of hope. She’d asked me a particular question, so I would answer that.

---