Page 34 of Pucked On Camera

The room is too small suddenly, the walls pressing in.

"Zach," I say, not turning around, "you have no idea the shit storm you’ve brought on."

"Is there anything I can do?" he asks.

"Right now?" I shake my head, still staring out the window. "Just leave. I need to figure things out."

"Okay," he says quietly. And I hear him move towards the door, the click of the latch loud in the quiet apartment.

"Zach?" I call out, just as he's about to disappear.

He pauses, half in, half out. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for telling me the truth." It's hard to say, but I manage. Despite everything, knowing is better than not.

"Sure," he says, and then he's gone.

I lean against the cool glass of the window. My thoughts drift to Riley. I can't pin the blame on him for Zach's recklessness, not when my gut tells me he's been in my corner all along.

Anything happening relationship wise between Riley and I is more complicated than that, isn't it? We're two people stitched from different worlds—mine, working minimum wage and dodging judgment; his, tailored suits and ice rinks beneath spotlights.

How can I trust his teammates, those who see me as nothing more than a joke?

I press my palms against my temples, trying to squeeze out the doubts as I sit down on the couch again. Trusting Riley is one thing; his teammates are another entirely. They've shown their true colors, and there’s no respect there.

There’s no way of knowing if I could ever be part of that world. The loneliness is a gap between us that stretches wider with every minute that passes.

Unblock him? Talk to him? My thumb hovers over my phone, a breath away from making a decision. Something still holds me back—fear, pride, self-preservation.

Chapter 20

Riley

The plane lands in Ann Arbor, and I brace myself to enter the lion’s den of the rival Michigan Viking’s teams practice facility. The place that I know Leland Hutson, now known to me as Amelia’s twin brother, has to be since it’s his job.

No, I wait and watch practice until it’s over.

As soon as it is, I go down to the ice. That way I’ll be seen when Leland comes off.

Amelia's brother, a spitting image with her same fierce eyes and stubborn tilt of the chin, stands before me. His crossed arms signal he's already on defense.

"Leland," I start, my tone level, "I need your help with Amelia."

"Help?" Skepticism laces his one-word question, a verbal check into the boards.

"Yeah." I lock eyes with him, blue meeting brown in a silent standoff. "I want her in the same room so I can talk to her. Explain things. Show her she can trust us."

"Us?" Leland's eyebrow arches, challenging.

"Me. And the team." My words are as solid as the ice we both know so well. "We care about her. I care about her more than you think."

Leland leans back against the wall. His gaze shifts from the floor to me, solid and unyielding. "Riley, you need to let it go. Amelia's moved on. You should too."

"Moved on?" I scoff, feeling my grip tighten on the edge of the bench. "Since when does hiding away mean moving on? Since when does Amelia Brooks back down from a challenge?"

He snorts, pushing off from the wall and standing toe-to-toe with me. He’s got a few inches on me with his skates still on. "This isn't some game, Captain. This is her life. And she doesn't want—"

"Stop!" I thrust a hand up. "Just... stop." Taking a deep breath, I muster every ounce of conviction I have.

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