Chapter 12

Riley

Amelia letting me in on her truth, there’s a lightness between us. It’s freeing. After our studio time, we showered and settled back on her couch, just enjoying our time together.

"Ever feel like you're skating on thin ice?" I ask, my voice low. "With the team, I mean. Sometimes it's more than just the game. It's... expectations."

She turns to look at me, hazel eyes reflecting the flickering TV screen. "What kind of expectations?"

"Ah, you know, be tough. Don't show weakness. Party hard. Score on the ice, score off the ice." I shrug. "But sometimes, I don't want that. Sometimes I just want... this. Simple. Real."

Amelia rests her head on my shoulder. "Riley, you're not your jersey number. You're allowed to have a life outside the team and rink."

"Easy to say, harder to live by," I admit. "Guess I'm still figuring out how to balance Cap, with just... Riley Watson."

"Sounds like you need a strategy, Coach," she teases lightly, but there’s sincerity there.

"Yeah, I probably do. I think the first part of that strategy involves spending more time with a certain someone who gets it," I say, turning to press a kiss to her temple. Her smile is my reward, and I think, yeah, this is exactly where I want to be.

"Sounds good to me," she whispers as we sink back into the cushions.

We channel surf in silence until I notice her fingers fiddling with the edge of the throw blanket.

"College was... suffocating," she starts, and there's a tremble in her voice that makes me pull her a little closer. "I felt like I was trying to fit into someone else's skin, you know?"

"Like wearing gear that's not broken in?" I offer, trying to find common ground.

"Exactly." A ghost of a smile flickers across her lips. "I dropped out after my sophomore year. Couldn't stand the thought of another day pretending to care about lectures when all I wanted was to be creating my own path."

"Damn. That must've taken guts," I say, admiring her courage. "Not easy to go against what’s expected of you."

"Nothing about it was easy. There were nights I questioned if I made the right call, but..." She sighs and turns her head to look up at me. "But I survived."

"You did more than survive, Princess. You're out here playing a whole different game." My respect for her deepens, and I want to know all of her story.

"Speaking of games," she says, shifting to fully look at me, "you ever get hurt off the ice? I mean, relationship-wise?"

"Plenty." The word is a rough cough in my throat. "Had this one girl, thought she was the one. Turned out she was more interested in the idea of dating the captain of the Blades than actually being with me."

"Ouch," she murmurs. "I've had one of those too. The guy liked the fantasy more than the person. Made me build some pretty thick walls."

"Guess we've both got scars then." I reach out, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

Amelia shifts back to face the TV again, and I stroke her arm lightly while she’s tucked next to me.

"Tell me about your family," I venture with curiosity to know everything about the woman I’m becoming close to.

She stiffens beside me but doesn’t face me. "Not much to tell, really," she deflects. "I have a brother, but we aren’t close."

"Ah." I respond, trying to keep my tone light. "Does he live around here?"

"Somewhere," she replies vaguely, and I can tell she’s uncomfortable talking about it.

"I see." I decide not to push her further, realizing this topic is a delicate one.

I respect her need for space - after all, trust isn't won in a day, and some wounds take longer than others to come to light.

"Riley..." Amelia whispers. "About my family... I'm sorry if I seem off."

"Hey, no need to apologize." I lean close to her ear and kiss her temple. "You'll talk about them when you're ready. Like with your OnlyFans. You trusted me with that secret, and I promise I will hold it close to my heart and not say anything to anyone."

"It's hard, you know? Letting someone in. The last relationship I had... it was rough. He didn't understand the concept of personal space or privacy. Always demanded to know everything I did."

"Sounds like a real charmer," I counter.

She chuckles, and I feel the tension in her body let go. "Yeah, well, after him, I wanted control over my own life, my image, my choices. That's why I started my OnlyFans. It was empowering, being able to make decisions for myself without someone breathing down my neck."

"Control is important," I agree, thinking about how much I crave it on the ice, in every aspect of my game.

"Exactly. The only good thing out of that relationship was that I found my love in building a fantasy and role playing it out." She takes a deep breath. "But it's more than that. It's about trust, too. Finding someone who gets that... it's not easy."

"Trust has to be earned," I say earnestly, meaning every word. "And I'm all about putting in the work, Princess."

“Good,” she whispers.

"For trust, you need to know about certain things that come with my job," I start, choosing my words carefully. "With the team, it's like, there's an energy, right? We feed off each other on the ice, but that same energy spills over into everything."

Amelia turns her body towards me in order to try to understand.

"Like, the puck bunnies," I say, and even just mentioning them feels like tainting the air around us. "They're everywhere—after games, at events, sliding into DMs. They act like they're part of the game, but they're not. They're a distraction." I pause, feeling a flush creep up my neck. It's one thing to deal with them myself; it's another to admit their existence to Amelia.

"Distractions can be fun," she teases, trying to keep it light, but I can tell she's waiting for more of an explanation.

"Sure, they can be," I agree, "but when you've got goals... long-term ones, they're more like detours. Detours that can end you up lost." I reach for her hand, needing to connect, to make her understand without saying too much. "For me, playing hockey—it isn't just a job. It's my future, my legacy."

Her fingers lace with mine, grounding me. "So you stay away from the detours?"

"Damn right I do." My grip tightens with my conviction. "I've seen too many guys get caught up in that scene. One minute they're rising stars, next they're benched, traded, or worse… forgotten. I won't let that be me."

"Cap, untouchable by puck bunnies," she chuckles, but I can see the respect in her eyes.

"Untouchable by anyone who isn't you. You get both Cap and Riley Watson," I correct her.

"Good answer," she whispers, leaning forward, closing the distance until her lips meet mine.