BRAYDON'S POV
“Yeah… I think that’ll be great,” I say, gripping my phone a little too tight.
“I’ll be in touch, Mr. Cooper.”
“Thank you. I’ll be waiting.”
The line goes dead, and for a few seconds, I just sit there, staring at my screen like it’s some kind of joke.
Did the Boston Bruins scout really just call me? They want me? My hands run through my hair, probably messing it up worse than it already is, just to make sure I’m not dreaming.
And here I am, parked in front of a café, about to grab coffee.
On a completely ordinary Tuesday.
I let out a low laugh, shake my head, and push open the car door. God, I can’t believe this sometimes. I’ve wanted the Chicago Blackhawks to call for forever, but this… this is one hell of a good news.
Inside the café, I barely notice the noise a
