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“Coach, I’ve been playing for you for six years now. I think I’ve more than proved my worth to you and the team.”
“You’re only as good as your current season, Kastellanos.”
“Has my play dropped off at all in the past month?” I challenge, knowing he must agree. I’ve been killing it on the ice.
“Not yet.”
“Then maybe you should be happy your daughter is with someone who cares about her and not worry about the rest.”
“Hmm,” is his only reply.
“I’ll see you at practice Monday morning. Enjoy the rest of your night,” I say, walking over to the exit to wait for Evie. Coach Carling disappears back into the reception hall, and I worry he’ll say something more to upset Evie.
Just as I’m about to follow him, my girl walks my way.
“Is everything okay,” I ask.
“As good as it can be with an asshole for a father.”
I want to disagree with her on principle alone. I mean, he’s my coach and I’d walk through fire for him. I know he can be a surly hardass at times, but I’m so disappointed to see this side of him—a side I never knew about before.
When Evie mentioned her dad reacted poorly about her pregnancy, I figured given the situation, a lot of dad’s probably would. But after hearing how he spoke to Evie and also about her, I’m extremely disappointed in him. It feels like one of my heroes fell off his pedestal. He definitely fell out of favor in my eyes.
We step outside into the fresh evening air. Evie shivers, and I’m not sure if she’s cold or angry. I wrap my arm around her shoulders.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I press a kiss to her temple.
“Yeah, don’t worry. I am. Unfortunately, this isn’t unusual behavior for my dad. At least when it comes to me. He doesn’t have the same problem with other people. Although, he sure isn’t pleased with your choice in women.” She pats my chest.
“I don’t care if he likes us being together or not.” I draw her into my arms and press a soft kiss to her lips. “I’ve proven my dedication to the Coyotes. I always give one hundred percent, whether it’s a practice or a game, and he knows this.”
“Do you want to come over?” she asks.
“I was thinking we could spend the night at my place.”
“I don’t have any clothes with me,” she says.
“I’d be happy to see you in my clothes or, even better, nothing at all.”
She laughs. “I bet.”
“Did you happen to drive here? I took an Uber in case I drank.”
“I did. My car’s parked over there.” She points to a nearby section of the lot.
“Let’s get out of here.”
* * *
“Take this right up here,” I tell her. She makes the turn smoothly. My house is on the right side, the last one before the next street.
“Whoa,” she mumbles. “I love your house.”
I chuckle. “You’ve barely seen it.”
She smiles. “I love the outside. Is that better?” She pulls into the driveway, parking beside my truck. “I love bungalow style homes.”
“Me too. I bought the lot and had the house built to my specifications.”
