Page 17 of Embrace

“See you later, Scar.”

Scar?

I can only blink at him, caught between awe and disbelief, before I manage a nod. He takes my hand, gives it a firm shake, and then he’s slinging his gear bag over his shoulder and disappearing through the double doors.

What the hell just happened?

Seven

Kian

The atmosphere inthe house is gloomy. I hate gloomy.

So Summer and I have decided it’s time to plan the best Halloween party Dalton has ever seen. It helps that it’s her and Dylan’s birthdays too.

“And then we have Aiden pop out of the cake,” I finish, pointing at the slide deck I have pulled up on my laptop. On the video call, Aiden slows the treadmill to a walk, sweat dripping as he wipes his forehead with a towel and adjusts his headphones.

He’s not nearly as enthused as I hoped. Summer’s sitting on my bed, giving me the same expression.

“Are you sure this isn’t just something you want? I can’t imagine Dylan loving this,” Summer says.

“He would love it. I think we should try and fit Eli in the cake too.”

Summer shakes her head. “But Aiden’s coming home early. Are you going to hide him until then?”

“Can’t you come home late—”

“No!” she exclaims.

“Babe, of course I’m coming home to you. And I don’t think I’d even fit inside a cake, Ishida.”

“You’re not that big,” I mutter. It’s a lie. The man is massive, even more so with his new NHL training plan. “Fine. Don’t do it. I don’t care.”

“You care. You’ve got that pouty look,” Aiden says. “How about I come as scheduled but help you with the setup?”

“Fine. Your loss, Sunny,” I say. “You could’ve seen him covered in icing.”

Summer gasps, but I don’t hear the rest of her realization because I head out for practice.

Today’s my first practice without Dylan. I could barely leave the guy at home and was going to ask Coach if I could register Dylan as my support animal—or human, I guess. I have that weird hollow feeling, like when your best friend was home sick in elementary school and you had to drift through the day like a loner, playing with kids you didn’t even care about.

Mid-practice, I isolate myself on the bench, spinning my helmet between my fingertips. Kilner approaches me, looking…sympathetic? I can never tell.

“I’m working on getting him back,” Coach says. “Iwillget him back.”

“But that’s not up to you. He failed his drug test, so the whole department and the NCAA gets involved now.”

“That’s not for you to worry about. I need you here with your team.”

“Shouldn’t your captain be doing that?”

Coach turns away like I’ve struck a chord. “All right, I’ve given you enough time to mope. What do you think the rookies are going to do if my seasoned player’s sitting here like his cat died?”

I gasp. “What if I had a cat and you just metaphorically killed it?”

“Get on the damn ice, Ishida.”

Today, Coach doesn’t give us any drills; he just gestures for me to lead the guys in our usual practice.