Page 65 of Suck My Puck

“He was until playoffs last season,” my dad says in his signature, unaffected tone.

The muscles in my neck and shoulders are instantly tense.

“Wow. Not mincing words, are we?” Tim chuckles.

“Nope. Never.”

“I’ve gotta say, Ivan. I know you’re a straight shooter. You always have been. That’s why you’re such a successful college hockey coach. But this is your son. And there doesn’t seem to be much affection in your tone when you talk about him.”

“I don’t operate that way. Never have. Never will,” my dad says sternly. “That sort of softness doesn’t do anyone any good.”

“I see. More of the tough love approach then?”

“If that’s what you want to call it. I just think that coddling your kids or your players does a massive disservice to them. No one becomes a better athlete by being babied and praised for every little thing. You improve when you know what your weaknesses are and how to fix them.”

“Your son is playing quite well now,” Tim says. “He bounced back from the rough start he had in the preseason. And during the Bashers’ final game of the playoffs last season too. Don’t you have any faith that he’ll keep at it? He’s played phenomenally these last few games.”

“All good things come to an end, Tim.”

A sting lands at the center of my chest.

The host stammers, then offers an awkward laugh. “Wow. That’s Coach Ivan Blomdahl for you folks. No nonsense and to-the-point, always.”

I exit out of the podcast, my entire body rigid with anger and frustration. A moment passes, that sting in my chest lingering.

It’s been a while since I’ve heard my dad say somethingharsh like that. I should be used to it. He’s said stuff like that about me, to my face, almost my entire life.

But the truth is, it kills me every single time.

I huff out a breath, waiting for that tightness in my chest to dissipate.

I knew I shouldn’t have listened to that podcast. All it did was remind me for the millionth time that no matter what I do, no matter how good I am, it will never, ever be enough for my dad.

I shove my phone in my pocket, grab my gear bag, and head out to my car. I drive in the direction of Spanky’s, determined to celebrate the win with my teammates and forget my dad’s harsh words.

Chapter 23

Bella

“Congrats on the win tonight, guys,” I say to Braden’s teammates when I drop off two pitchers of beer at their usual table. “I heard you gave Minneapolis quite the spanking.”

“Thanks,” says the blonde guy who looks like a handsome surfer. “I’m Theo, by the way. Figured we should formally introduce ourselves since we come here so much. And since you’ve been hanging out with Blomdahl.”

I shake his hand, and he introduces me to his two other teammates sitting with him, Xander and Del.

Xander grins at me. “Hope you’re not sick of us coming here all the time.”

“Not at all. You’re polite and you tip well. You can come here as much as you want.”

He laughs. Del, the dark-haired broody-looking guy sitting next to him, cracks a smile.

“We really like the beer selection you’ve got. Thanks for having more than just the standard light beers that college kids drink,” Del says.

“The couple that owns this place hates the college crowd, so they purposely don’t carry light beers.”

The guys all laugh. A minute later, Braden walks in. I notice he’s frowning as he makes his way to the table. I wonder why he looks so upset. They won.

When he sees me, his hard expression eases instantly. He walks up to me and smiles. “Hey, pretty girl.”

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