BRAYDON’S POV
Coach pulls me aside after practice, his face already telling me this isn’t about hockey.
“Your father called me,” he says. Yeah, you read that right. My old man called my coach.
My hands automatically go to my hips, part annoyance, part bracing myself. I already know where this is going, but maybe there’s a plot twist waiting somewhere.
“What did he say?”
“He asked if you’re still active in hockey,” Coach says, shaking his head like he can’t believe it either. “Wanted to know your current schedule.”
I let out a low scoff. “And for what possible reason?”
It’s not like my dad wakes up and cares. Man only does things like this when something benefits him. Coach knows how things are between us, so he’s always had my back.
“I’m guessing it’s about your midterm grades,” h
