Page 71 of Embrace

A dozen helmets nod. “Got it.”

I run a hand through my hair, feeling the heat on my face, only to find Coach staring at me. The look falls somewhere between irritation or constipation. I’ve got no clue. I’m even more confused when he walks off the ice and says, “Ishida, my office.”

“For what?” I call, but he’s already out of earshot.

Cursing under my breath, I head down to his office. Coach’s office has always been a chaos of boxes, trophies on shelves, and pictures of a brown-haired girl in pigtails with a smiling woman. His wife and daughter, I think.

“Sit down,” he says.

“Coach, I’m sorry if I was out of line, but those guys were—”

“Kian. Sit down.”

Kian?The sound of anything butIshidaout of his mouth is enough to get me to shut up and drop into the chair in front of him. There’s a soft look on his face, too soft for him. It worries me instantly, and I feel the dread drop into my chest like black ink in clear water.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Are you suspending me? Coach, please, I won’t survive it. Dylan could barely do it, and even if you kicked me off, it’s not like I could spend all my free time with him. I’d just be bored—”

“Will you let me speak?” he interjects.

I nervously bounce my leg, feeling the heel of my skate guard hit the ground. “Please don’t ban me from talking. That sucked last time.”

“Kian.”

I shut my mouth.

“I’m going to give you something, and I need you to keep your cool,” Kilner says cautiously. I’ve got a million questions, but then he pulls out a jersey. It’s folded, brand new, and when he rounds his desk to hand it to me, I see the seventy-six on the back. My number.

“What’s this for? I already have one.”

He shakes his head. “Not one like this.”

My brows pinch in confusion, and when I unravel the jersey, I’m still wondering what he’s talking about. Then I turn it around. And there’s a C stitched on the right side. Captain.

I can’t breathe. Fuck, I’m dying. I think I’m dying.

“You’re not dying.” Coach slaps a palm on my shoulder, and I exhale.

“Then what’s going on?” I ask slowly. “Areyoudying?”

Coach deadpans.

“Oh my God. Is it because of me? All the years I’ve stressed you out. I’m so s—”

“Nobody is dying. Do you not realize what I’m trying to tell you?”

I scrutinize him, my gaze narrowing. “You’re pranking me.” I let out a derisive laugh. “I fucking knew it. I’m going to kill Dylan. How does he still have time for this? How did you even agree? Why? You never participate in any of my pranks.”

“Kian. Shut up and listen to me.”

So I do, and that burn in my chest comes to life.

“You’ve always been a leader. As much as you pretend like you’re not, you’re always the one doing the helping. You’re the captain of this team as long as you’re here, Ishida.”

I swear there are tears welling in my eyes. Everything stings at this moment. And I don’t think, I just spring up from the chair and pull the coach into the tightest hug I can.

He tries to resist, and I feel him about to push me away, but he doesn’t.

When I pull back, I blink rapidly.