Page 187 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

“He’s…” My attention is dragged to the doorway, where a man in a suit strides down the hall with a nurse. “Concussion and fractured ribs, and a lot of bruising. But otherwise… I mean, he’s awake. There’s no permanent damage.”

Carter and Penn exchange a look.

“Did you see his mom and brother?” I ask them.

Dad shakes his head, but he moves toward the door. “I’m going to talk to the nurse. I’ll be right back.”

When it’s just the three of us, they both crowd in close. I hug them both and, in a low voice, tell them exactly what happened. I glazed over it for the police, and I’m sure I’ll answer for that later. I kept the details vague because I just—I didn’t want to have to relive absolutely everything.

If I told them about Bear, then I’d have to explain how I got in that situation with Bear in the first place. And how Oliver hurt him at a fight, which would open that up for questioning.

No, we’ve been skating on thin ice for a while now.

Dad returns with news. “They’re discharging him. He volunteered you three to stay with him and make sure he follows concussion protocol…”

He narrows his eyes at me.

I keep my eyes wide and innocent. “Um… we’re on okay terms, Dad.”

His gaze flicks to Carter. “And the captain of the Seawolves?”

Carter straightens. “Yes, sir. We’ve put our rivalry aside because we both care about your daughter.”

“Uh-huh.” Dad grimaces. He’s no doubt recalling the spectacular practice interruption that happened not too long ago. “Fine. Oh, Sydney, here’s your phone.”

I take it from him. “Did it help with…?”

“Unfortunately not, kiddo.” He sighs. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry for getting your hopes up.”

“It’s okay.” I force a smile. “I’m kind of not expecting her to come back, you know?”

He pats my shoulder. But there aren’t really words to answer me. Not without lying or agreeing—and neither option sounds particularly helpful. So he leaves it at that and heads out. I spot Oliver’s mother and brother leave soon after.

Eventually, a nurse wheels Oliver out, and she motions for us to join her. She hands me a pamphlet on things to watch out for with concussions, as well as a list of things not allowed.

Screens, in particular.

He has my coat on his lap. He hands it back, allowing me to shrug it on as we walk toward for the elevator.

We’re all silent until Penn pulls his car around. Oliver slides into the front, while Carter and I pile into the back.

“Ollie’s house, then?” Penn asks.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “There’s room for all of us.”

As soon as we’re on the road, I lean into Carter. He smells faintly of booze, which confirms he was at a party. However, there’s no sign of bruising on his face.

“So, did Penn rescue you in time?” I ask him.

Penn chuckles.

Carter snorts. “Sure. If by rescue you mean he burst into the party, yelled my name on repeat until everyone was convinced he was going to punch me, and dragged me out.”

“Sounds exciting.” I smirk at him. “Maybe now they’ll just think you two are dating.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, right. He shoved me into the car?—”

“He protested the whole way,” Penn interjects.