Page 12 of Ice Melts

Travis’s stomach tightened. Brogue’s wasn’t just any club. It had a reputation—a bad one. Drugs, fights, and scandalous headlines often followed its guests, and it wasn’t the kind of place anyone on their team should be seen, especially not now.

“Hard pass,” Jake said quickly. “I’ve got better things to do than watch you get wasted and make a fool of yourself.”

Logan smirked. “Suit yourself, lover boy. What about you, Trav?”

Travis shook his head, keeping his tone light. “Not my scene.”

“Since when?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow. “You used to be fun.”

“I still am,” Travis said, leaning his stick against the bench and standing. “But I’ve got practice tomorrow and a game to prep for. I’m not about to screw that up for one night at a shady club.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Shady? Come on, man. It’s just a party.”

“Is it?” Travis said, crossing his arms. “Because last time you went to ‘just a party,’ we had to deal with that mess in the press. You think Coach has forgotten about that?”

Logan’s grin faltered, replaced by a flicker of defensiveness. “That was nothing. Blown out of proportion.”

“Was it?” Travis said, his voice harder now. “Because I remember a team meeting about how we’re supposed to be role models. You think anyone’s looking up to us if we’re plastered all over the tabloids for the wrong reasons?”

Logan shrugged, but there was a tension in his shoulders that Travis didn’t miss. “You’re making it sound worse than it is. It’s one night. No one cares.”

“I care,” Travis said, his tone firm. “And you should, too. This isn’t just about you, Logan. It’s about the team, the fans, the kids who look up to us. Do you want them thinking this is what being a pro athlete is about?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, Travis thought he might actually listen. But then Logan scoffed, grabbing his helmet and shoving it onto his head.

“You sound like my dad,” Logan muttered. “Maybe you should loosen up, Jenkins. Not everyone wants to live like a saint.”

“Being responsible isn’t the same as being boring,” Travis said, stepping closer. “You’ve got talent, Logan. Don’t throw it away on stupid decisions.”

Logan didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the floor. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, and Jake shifted uncomfortably, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.

“Look,” Travis said, his voice softer now. “I’m not trying to come down on you. I just… I don’t want to see you mess this up. You’ve got too much going for you.”

Logan’s shoulders sagged slightly, but he still didn’t meet Travis’s eyes. “Whatever, man,” he muttered, brushing past him and heading toward the rink.

Travis let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair.

Jake stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “You think he’ll listen?”

“I don’t know,” Travis rubbed his forehead. “But I had to try.”

Jake nodded, his expression thoughtful. “You’re a good captain, you know that?”

Travis huffed a laugh. “Thanks. But sometimes it feels like herding cats.”

Jake grinned. “Well, if you ever need backup, you know where to find me. As long as it’s not at Brogue’s.”

Travis chuckled, clapping Jake on the shoulder. “Deal.”

As they headed out onto the ice, Travis couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him. Logan was talented, no question, but he was also reckless. And in their world, it didn’t take much to ruin a career—or a life.

He just hoped Logan would realize that before it was too late.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The sound of skates cutting through the ice echoed through the arena, sharp and precise. Travis adjusted his helmet, his breath clouding in the cold air as he settled into position. The Seahorns were in the thick of it, practice ramping up to a new level as they prepared for the playoffs. Everything they’d worked for all season came down to this: the chance to bring home a Stanley Cup.

Coach’s whistle cut through the air like a gunshot.

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