Page 39 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

But he doesn’t let me go just yet. “Holly, wait.”

I pause, my heart skipping a beat as he steps closer, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

“I didn’t want to talk about it earlier because ... Christmas is a bad time for me,” he admits, his voice raw with emotion. “David died two years ago, right around Christmas. It’s hard to think about celebrating when it just reminds me of losing him.”

My chest tightens at the pain in his voice, and without thinking, I reach out and take his hand, pulling him toward the sofa. We sit down together, the silence heavy but comforting in its own way.

“I get it,” I say softly, squeezing his hand. “Christmas can be hard when you’ve lost someone you love.”

He nods, his eyes distant as he stares at the floor. “He was my little brother. He was always the one who made Christmas special, you know? He had this way of making everything feel ... brighter.”

I can hear the grief in his voice, the way it still clings to him, and it makes my heart ache for him. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”

For a moment, we sit in silence, the weight of his loss hanging between us. Then, in an effort to lighten the mood, I decide to share a memory of my own.

“You know, Christmas has always been special to me, too,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips. “My parents actually met at a Christmas party. My mom was standing under the mistletoe, and my dad just walked up and kissed her, right then and there. She always said it was the best Christmas gift she ever got.”

Ethan looks at me, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Your dad just kissed her, just like that?”

“Yep,” I say with a laugh. “My mom was furious at first, but my dad was so charming, she couldn’t stay mad at him. They ended up spending the whole night talking, and the rest is history.”

He smiles slightly, the tension in his face easing. “Sounds like a pretty good story.”

“It is,” I agree, my heart warming at the memory. “My mom always used to say that a kiss and love shared makes the season better.”

We lock eyes, and I can see the walls he’s built around himself start to crack, just a little. There’s a vulnerability there that he’s been hiding, a softness that he doesn’t show often. And in that moment, I realize how much I want to be the one to help him heal, to be the person who makes his world a little brighter again.

Without thinking, I lean in, my hand still holding his. “Ethan...”

He doesn’t hesitate. He closes the distance between us, his lips finding mine in a kiss that’s both tender and intense.

It feels like everything we’ve been holding back finally breaks free, and for the first time, it feels like we’re both exactly where we’re supposed to be.

12

ETHAN

There arereasons hockey players don't do feelings. Feelings are messy. Like when the ketchup bottle explodes all over your fries. Or when you’ve got a friend like Ryan, who can read you like a book, staring you down.

“One word, and I’m throwing you out of the car.”

Ryan chuckles, throwing his arm over the back of the seat, peering at me like some deadbeat physiognomist. “I haven’t spoken a word, man.”

My nose wrinkles. “Your grin’s way too smug for someone getting a free lift.”

"Bro, you're like ... happy or something?" Ryan gives me a look like I’ve grown a second head. He’s lounging in the passenger seat of my truck like he belongs there, one leg thrown up on the dash, wearing thisI’m gonna ruin your daygrin.

"What? I’m not allowed to be in a good mood?" I shoot back, cranking the steering wheel to avoid a pothole big enough to swallow five pucks.

Ryan doesn’t buy it. He’s been my teammate long enough to know I don’t do ‘good moods.’ Not around Christmas anyway.He begged me to lose the frown last year when we were up by three in the final period with a power play—that’s how bad it is.

"You don’t do good moods. Nah, not buying it. But you know what I do buy?" He stretches, all casual like he’sdefinitelyabout to say something that’ll make me think about driving him off a cliff. "Holly. Your new roomie. Something going on there? Some roommate with benefits shit?"

There it is. The pothole I can’t dodge. My grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“Shut up, Connors!”

Ryan laughs, that infuriating chuckle that only he can pull off without getting decked. "Come on, man. I’veseenyou since she moved in. Suddenly, Ethan Carter, aka Ice King, is all ... soft."

---