Page 35 of Pucked On Camera

"Listen to me, Leland. Amelia is more than just a Blade’s staffer to us—to me. She's the heart behind our hustle, the calm in the storm of our season. Yeah, I know Zach screwed up. But there's something here worth fighting for, something real that I can't—and won't—just walk away from."

"You tell me what's so damn special about her then?" He crosses his arms again.

"Everything," I say without hesitation. "She sees beyond the jerseys and the glory, and she does her job to perfection without expecting any of the spotlight."

"Sounds like you've got it bad," Leland mutters, but his voice lacks its earlier bite.

"Damn right, I do. I'm not playing around when it comes to Amelia. She's fierce, strong, and she makes me want to be a better man. After everything that's happened, I owe it to her—to show her she can trust me, trust us."

"Riley," Leland begins, but I cut him off with a raised hand again.

"Let me finish," I insist. "I see her, Leland. Not just the tough exterior she shows the world, but the laughter that slips out when she forgets to be guarded, the flash of openness in those hazel eyes when she thinks no one's looking. I see the woman who's been burned before, yet still has the courage to wake up every day and face a bunch of overgrown boys with sticks."

Leland's expression softens, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "She's my sister, Riley. I don't want her hurt again."

"Neither do I," I reply. "I want to protect her, fight for her, hell, even get benched for her if that's what it takes. I want her happy. With me."

Silence hangs heavy in the room, punctuated only by the distant hum of machinery from the ice rink. Leland's eyes meet mine again, still uncertain.

"Give me a chance," I say, finally. "Let me prove to you, to her, that we're not just a team. We're a family. And families stick together, through thick and thin, wins and losses. Let me prove that she's as much a part of this family as anyone wearing a Blades jersey."

Leland stares at me long and hard, weighing my words, measuring the sincerity behind them. He nods once, sharply.

"Fine," he says gruffly, "but, Captain, if you fuck this up, you'll have more than just the rival team to answer to."

***

The locker room door slams shut behind me, echoing in the empty corridor of The Blade's practice facility. My breath puffs out in white clouds as I step onto the ice in the empty rink. It's eerie, this silence, like the calm before the storm.

"Alright, listen up!" I say, my voice bouncing off the walls as the team shuffles out to center ice, each wearing their game jerseys. "We've got some unfinished business."

They form a semi-circle around me. Tonight, we aren't playing; we're here to win back trust.

"Amelia switched to nights," I say. "She's been dodging me, and the entire team, ever since those photos got leaked, ."

Murmurs ripple through the group, heads drop. The air is sharp with frost and regret.

"Can't blame her, can we?" I continue, locking eyes with each of them. "We didn't exactly make her feel like part of the team like we do with all of the staff of the Blades."

A nod here, a swallowed sigh there. It's the first step—acknowledgment.

"Tonight, we change that," I declare. "We show her she's part of this team. More than just a towel girl, more than any damn scandal. She's family."

"Family," echoes back, a chorus gaining confidence. This is what I do best—rallying the troops. It's not a power play or penalty kill; it's about making things right.

"Riley, you think she’ll even want to see us?" Jasper asks, breaking the huddle.

"Doesn’t matter if she wants to," I shoot back, the captain in me standing firm. "We owe her this. We show up, we apologize, and we let her decide where to go from there."

"Alright then, Cap," Zach chimes in. "Lead the way."

I nod, feeling the weight of the 'C' on my jersey. Tonight, it stands for more than just captain—it’s a symbol of commitment, of change. It's about Amelia.

"Let's do this," I say, clapping my stick on the ice. "And keep your damn egos in check."

One by one, they nod, tapping sticks on the ice—a salute of solidarity.

My heart races, and the sound fills the rink, loud and clear. We're here for her, ready to break the ice and rebuild what was cracked.

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