Chapter 25

brADY

“Carmichael!” Coach barked after we’d finished practice. “My office. Now.”

Mac shot me a look and raised his eyebrows. After returning to LA from Vegas, I hadn’t had a chance to update Mac on everything that’d happened. But Mac—and everybody else—had seen the pap photos of Grace and me.

Coach had been surprisingly neutral toward me throughout practice, which had been even scarier than if he’d ridden my ass. It meant that he’d had enough time to turn his rage into something colder and more menacing.

“Sit,” Coach said.

I sat, only because I wasn’t sure what Coach would do to me if I didn’t.

He crossed his arms. Then he said, “I’m sorry to hear about your mom. Condolences.”

I felt like I’d just been given whiplash. I swallowed, a lump rising in my throat. “Thank you,” I croaked.

“I know you and your mom had a complicated relationship.” Coach cleared his throat. “Just, if you need anything, you know you can come to me or to Elise.”

I stared at him. Now I was completely confused. Was this not what I’d assumed this would be about?

“Uh, thank you,” I repeated.

Coach nodded and uncrossed his arms.

“Now,” he began, his expression turning ominous, “what the hell were you doing with my daughter in Vegas? Because it looked like you two were dating. Holding hands, buying condoms—” He grimaced. “Christ, what the hell were you thinking?”

I had to bite back a dark smile. This was more what I’d been expecting, and I had to admit, something was comforting in its familiarity.

I didn’t want to think about Mom, or my complicated grief about her passing. I’d rather Coach yell at me so I could yell right back.

I cocked my head to the side. “Do you want to hear the truth, or do you just want to yell at me?”

Coach narrowed his eyes. “You seriously getting sarcastic with me right now? Because you are on major thin ice here.”

“Well, your daughter is an adult. Which means she makes her own decisions about who she dates.”

“Stop fucking tap-dancing around the question. Are you dating my daughter? Yes or no? It’s a simple answer.”

I waited a beat, letting the suspense draw out. I wondered what would happen if I lied even though everybody and their dog had seen those photos of us together.

Then I replied, “Yes, I am.”

Coach swore. He started pacing, like I’d just told him I had an incurable disease.

I had to admit, his visible disappointment was a punch to the gut. I’d known he wouldn’t react positively, but it still hurt.

Because it would mean that he agreed that I wasn’t good enough for his daughter. It meant that, in the end, I was still some punk foster kid who’d never be a real part of their family.

Coach sighed and sat down heavily. “I hate this, Brady. I really do. You’re a decent kid. I’ve always thought so. But you’re not the right guy for my daughter. I thought you knew that.”

I flinched at his words. Had I really been hoping for a fucking miracle? That Coach would welcome me with open arms into the family?

You’re fucking delusional, I thought. You already knew how this would go down. It’s your own fault for hoping for something that could never happen.

“My daughter is innocent. She’s a good girl. She’s not the type of girl you like. You and I both know you have a ... certain type, shall we say,” said Coach.

“Maybe I’ve changed.”

That made Coach bark out a laugh. “Seriously? Come on. I saw you on the plane with that flight attendant. She’s the type of woman you’re after. Which means you must be pursuing my daughter because you’re bored.”

I gritted my teeth. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on. Don’t fuck with me, Carmichael. I know you. Everybody does. The second you get tired of Grace, you’ll dump her.” Coach’s expression turned dark. “And you’ll break her heart. That I won’t stand for.”

“Again, you’re just making assumptions.”

Coach pointed a finger at me. “Either leave my daughter alone,” he threatened, “or I’m trading you to the shittiest team in the league. Far, far away. I’ll send you to fucking Saskatchewan.”

“Do they have a hockey team?” I couldn’t help but quip.

“You’re on thin fucking ice, Carmichael.” Coach leaned forward, his voice lowering. “You and I both know why you’re not the guy for Grace. If she found out the truth, do you really think she’d stay with you?”

The breath whooshed out of me. It took every ounce of strength not to run out of that office—or punch Coach in the face.

Which wasn’t fair, because I’d brought this on myself. All of this had been my fault. I knew it, and I needed to accept that and stop trying to fight against fate.

“Let her go,” said Coach quietly. “It’s not worth it. I don’t want to see either of you hurt. You’re like a son to me. You know that, right? And because of that, I’m not going to spare you from the harsh truth.”

I nodded tightly. I couldn’t defend myself. I’d only been trying to deny what was right in front of me. But reality would always come back to bite you in the ass, no matter how hard you tried to keep it under lock and key.

Later that afternoon, Grace texted me. It was a sweet text, full of heart emoji. It made my own stupid heart soar.

But as I was about to type out a reply, I could hear Coach’s voice in my head. I deleted what I’d typed and stuffed my phone back into my pocket.

I’d text her later. Right now I needed to go home and think.

I stayed up nearly half the night, wondering what the fuck I was going to do. Even as I acknowledged that Coach was right, I still didn’t have the strength to break things off with Grace. Not yet.

Aren’t you just prolonging the inevitable? Why make this worse than it could be?

I snarled and swore. I punched a few pillows. I paced like a caged lion. I stared at Grace’s text and felt like I was going to lose my goddamn mind.

Finally, in the early morning, I replied to her.

Hey, I need some time to myself. Just a few days. Don’t take it personally. It’s just me, not you, I texted her.

I was surprised when she immediately texted me back. I hadn’t thought she’d be up this early. I wondered if she’d been waiting all night for my reply, which only made me feel guiltier.

Okay. I love you, was her reply.

I swallowed hard. I told her that I loved her, too, and hoped against hope that maybe, just maybe, we could work this out.

And maybe pigs will fly, and Coach will buy me a sparkly unicorn.

When I sat down on Mac’s couch and he handed me a beer, he said, “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

“I’m really sorry to hear about your mom. I wish I could’ve been at the funeral, but with you being out for the game—”

“It’s fine. Honestly, I didn’t really want lots of people there. My relationship with my mom was ... complicated.”

“I get it. I do.” Mac shook his head. “Going to Caroline’s funeral was a mindfuck. Seeing all the people almost made it worse, which I know makes me a selfish piece of shit.”

“Nah, man. That just makes you human,” I replied.

Mac gave me an odd look. “And do you apply that statement to yourself?”

I looked away. I didn’t need my best friend psychoanalyzing me.

“How was your meeting with Coach?” Mac asked.

“Christ, it was a disaster. He told me to break up with Grace, or he’d trade me to the shittiest team in the league.”

Mac’s eyes widened. “Damn. I mean, I knew he’d be pissed, but this seems like an overreaction. His daughter is an adult. What does Grace have to say about all this?”

I couldn’t tell Mac everything about my past. I knew it made me a coward, but I couldn’t. Not right now.

“I told Grace I needed some time to myself,” I admitted.

Mac groaned. “Dude, seriously? Do you want her to freak out?”

“Hey, she didn’t freak out. She said she loved me and has given me space.”

“She’s a good person. And she’s nice. You’re lucky. I’m not sure Elodie would be that nice. She’d track me down and give me a piece of her mind, and then probably drag my ass back home.”

Did I want Grace to freak out? A ridiculous part of me did. Grace seemed too calm about all of this. As if me potentially breaking things off with her wasn’t a big deal.

What the hell do you want her to do? Burn your house down?

“It doesn’t matter.” I sighed. “I mean, it does. I don’t fucking know. I’m a mess.”

“We all already knew that one, my dude.”

I glared at Mac.

“Look,” said Mac, “I can’t tell you what to do. But I do know that it comes down to this. Which is more important to you, your career or Grace?”

“Grace,” I said without hesitation.

“Well, there you go.”

Saying the words out loud was freeing. I’d been so concerned about Coach that I hadn’t realized that, at the end of the day, who gave a shit about hockey?

Grace was who mattered. Grace was the person I loved. Hockey was important to me, of course, and I didn’t want to be traded to the shittiest team ever.

But if I had to live in Saskatchewan, well, at least I’d have Grace. And maybe we’d like it there. At least it’d be an adventure.

“Enough about my pathetic life,” I said, shaking my head, “tell me what’s new with you and Elodie.”

As I listened to Mac gush over his fiancée, I couldn’t stop the wave of jealousy crashing over me. Mac didn’t have anything to hide—not anymore. And he could be with the woman he loved. Nobody was trying to split them up or convince Mac that he wasn’t good enough for Elodie.

“Elodie wants to get married a year from now,” Mac said, “but I don’t want to wait that long. She wants a huge wedding and says there’s no way we can plan one in a few months.”

“Are we seriously talking about weddings now?” I joked.

Mac rolled his eyes. “How the mighty have fallen. But seriously, why can’t we just go down to the courthouse? I don’t get it.”

I held up my hands. “Dude, that’s between you and Elodie.”

“Are weddings really that complicated that you need an entire year to plan them?”

Right then, I heard their front door open and close. “I’m hoooome!” Elodie yelled. When she came into the living room, she stopped in her tracks when she saw me. “Oh, Brady. I didn’t know you were coming over.”

I shot a look at Mac. “Uh, I don’t want to intrude.”

“No, no, sorry. I was just surprised.” Elodie cocked an eyebrow at her fiancé. “I had other plans for this evening.”

Mac looked chagrined. “Sorry, baby. But Brady needed to vent.”

“Vent? Now I’m intrigued.”

I sighed, but I also knew that Elodie wasn’t going to let me be vague. I gave her a rundown of what Coach had said to me.

“Yeah, those photos were something else.” Elodie’s lips twitched. “You two really weren’t thinking ahead, were you?”

“I didn’t think the paparazzi would follow me to Vegas,” I groused.

“When everybody knows you’ve been hanging around the coach’s daughter?” Mac slapped me on the shoulder. “I’d tell you to get your head out of your ass, but I was an idiot with Elodie. I can’t really judge.”

“I appreciate the support,” I said. Desperate to change the subject, I added, “Mac here thinks weddings are stupid, and you guys should just go down to the courthouse.”

Mac gaped at me. Elodie glared at Mac, clearly outraged.

“Seriously? I already told you why I want a wedding!” Elodie said.

“I never said weddings were stupid .” Mac glared at me. “I don’t get the point of them, that’s all. And why do they take so long? You just pick a venue and send invitations. The end.”

Elodie sighed deeply. “Oh my God. Men. You do know it takes a year just to get a dress ordered and altered, right?”

We both stared at Elodie. “Seriously?” I said, dumbfounded.

“That’s bullshit. A whole year?” Mac said.

“I don’t make the rules.” Elodie got up and wrapped her arms around Mac’s shoulders. “And anyway, don’t you want to see me in a gorgeous gown, walking down the aisle toward you?”

“Pretty sure that happens at the courthouse, too,” replied Mac.

Elodie smacked his shoulder. Then her gaze moved to me. “Talk some sense into your friend. And if you do, I’ll make sure to support you and Grace, no matter what Coach says.”

Elodie went upstairs, leaving Mac and me to stare at each other.

“Well, shit,” I said, shaking my head. “I guess you guys should definitely have a wedding now.”

Mac snorted. “Fuck you, dude.”