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“What was that about?” he asks, crossing his arms. His coach voice is on, the one that makes players scramble.

I shrug, trying to look unbothered. “Nothing.”

“Didn’t seem like nothing.”

“It was just an accident.” I glance at the coffee-stained hoodie Caleb left crumpled on the desk. “Ran into him earlier. Literally. Coffee everywhere. He was pissed. End of story.”

Dad studies me for a beat, then sighs. “Stay away from hockey boys, Sienna. They’re trouble.”

“Oh, trust me,” I say, dry as sandpaper. “They’re the worst kind of trouble.”

He gives me a pointed look. “I mean it.”

“I know, I know. Avoid the jocks, stick to the nerds. Got it.”

He doesn’t laugh, just shakes his head. “What’d you want, anyway?”

“I was at the library. Just finished up and thought maybe we could grab Starbucks?”

His face softens. “Yeah, of course. Let’s go.”

We walk out of his office and head down the hall. I’m trying to ignore how upset Caleb was when we bump into Eli.

“Hey, Coach,” Eli says, flashing his usual easy grin. Then his eyes land on me, and he adds, “Hey, Sienna.”

“Hey,” I manage, my voice a little too high.

He winks, and my stomach hollows out like it’s trying to disappear. Memories of that kiss, the one that made my knees go weak, made me stupid, rush back, uninvited.

“See you around,” Eli says, smirking as he walks away.

Dad glances at me. “What the hell was that about, Sie?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly, heat creeping up my neck.

He gives me a long, suspicious look but doesn’t push it.

We make it to Starbucks, and I’m grateful for the distraction. The line isn’t too bad, and I already know my order.

“What’re you getting?” Dad asks.

“Grande iced caramel macchiato. Extra caramel drizzle.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re such a sugar fiend.”

“Says the guy who eats three donuts before practice.”

He chuckles. “I’ll take a black coffee. No frills.”

“Of course you will,” I say, smirking.

We order, grab our drinks, and settle into a corner table. I stir my drink with the straw, watching the caramel swirl into the coffee.

“So,” Dad starts, leaning back in his chair. “You talked to your mom lately?”

My grip on the cup tightens. “Nope. Last I heard, she’s got some new boyfriend.”

He frowns. “Another one?”