Page 40 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

Soft? Me?

"You sure it’s not just your brain going soft?" I shoot back, swerving the car around a slowpoke Prius. Honestly, who drives a Prius in Chicago? It's like theywantto die in a snowbank.

"Oh,I’msoft? Dude, you’re practically skipping into practice these days. I swear, next thing I know, you’ll be doing TikTok dances in the locker room."

“You’re making up a Netflix rom-com plot in your head. Maybe you should drop the hockey stick and pick up a pen.”

“You know I’m right,” he taps the dashboard like he’s about to give me some deep, life-changing advice. "You caved on the whole promo thing too. You, of all people! And you didn’t even throw a tantrum. If that’s not ‘I’m crushing on my hot roommate’ behavior, then I don’t know what is."

I don’t answer. Partly because he’s kinda right, but mostly because I’m still trying to figure out what the hell the last two days even meant. Holly. Me. Thethingwe did. Or, well ...things.

Ryan keeps going, because obviously he doesn’t care if I’m having an existential crisis behind the wheel. "Plus, I heard herex is Jake Roland. And he’s in town. You sure you wanna go head-to-head with some big-shot Hollywood type?"

My jaw tightens. Jake. The name alone is enough to make me want to check someone into the boards—hard. "Don’t even mention that guy."

"Whoa, easy there, tiger," Ryan says, holding up his hands like I’m about to tackle him right in the truck. "What did Jake ever do to you, man?"

"Existing is enough," I growl, gripping the wheel until my knuckles are white.

Ryan’s smirk grows. "Aww, this iscute. You’re breaking your ‘no hate without knowing’ rule for this guy. Must besuperbad if Mr. Know-the-Guy-First is out here throwing shade."

"Iknowenough," I say, trying to keep the bite out of my voice. "He’s all talk. All ego. No substance."

Ryan grins wider, which shouldn’t be physically possible, but here we are. "Suuuure. And this hasnothingto do with Holly? You’re just randomly going full-on defense mode ‘cause you, what? Hate Hollywood now?"

Deflection time.

"Speaking of women, what’s up withyou? Thought you were swiping right on every girl in Chicago. But lately ... you’ve been looking kindasettled."

Ryan rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, which is weird. "Yeah, yeah. People change, man."

"People, maybe.You? Nah." I glance over at him, eyebrow raised. "I know you as well as you know me. So, who’s the unlucky lady?"

He hesitates. Which means it’s someone I know. "Lauren."

I nearly swerve into oncoming traffic. "Lauren? No way.”

“I’m in trouble, right?”

“Our team therapist? I know we’re all close and all, but she literally gets paid to get inside our heads."

"Yeah, I know," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s complicated."

Complicated.Right. "Dude, when did this start? And is she even into you?”

Ryan sighs dramatically, like he’s about to deliver the kind of line you’d hear in a rom-com. "It’s not like that. She just ... she gets under my skin, you know?"

I bark out a laugh. "You mean she calls you out on your BS. And youlikeit."

"Shut up." He’s grinning now, though. "You’rethe one humming like a Disney princess because ofyourgirl."

Before I can come up with a decent comeback, we pull into the parking lot at the training center. The ice rink looms ahead, all cold steel and glass, waiting. Always waiting.

Ryan hops out of the truck, still smirking. "Catch you inside, lover boy."

Great.Fantastic. This is my life now—getting roasted by Ryan. I have to take it until I can sort out the mess in my head, and what Holly wants as well.

Inside the locker room, it’s the usual chaos: Liam’s got his helmet on backward, guys are shouting about last night’s game, and the place smells like a mix of sweat and stale Gatorade.

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