Page 55 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

There’s alwaysa certain energy in the locker room before a big game, but tonight’s a whole new level ofbuzzing.

It’s thick, electric, like the air right before a storm hits and you just know the arena’s packed; walls practically shaking with the kind of energy that only comes with a rivalry this deep. Reddington Ice are our fierce rivals–think Hatfield and McCoys, but with sticks, skates, and a puck.This kind of tension makes the skin prickle and the heart thud a little harder. And tonight? It’s palpable

Coach Andrew’s pacing like a caged tiger, eyes flashing, and he looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel from sheer adrenaline.

"Alright, boys, listen up!" Coach’s voice booms over the chatter, cutting through the noise like a slapshot. “This team? They think they’ve got us beat before we even hit the ice. They think we’re gonna roll over just because they’ve had a couple of lucky games this season. But we’rethe Blizzards. We own this rink. And tonight, we show them why.”

A collective growl rises from the team, fists clenching, sticks tapping against the floor. There’s no need for a long speech. Weknow the drill. This is war, and we’ve been here a thousand times before.

Ryan, next to me, elbows my ribs with a smirk. “You ready to make these guys regret getting out of bed this morning?”

I don’t answer. There’s no need. The look I give him says it all—Let’s do this.

As we step out onto the ice, the roar of the crowd hits like a wave. It’s deafening, vibrating in the bones. The rival team skates out, too, already posturing like they own the place, but they don’t. Not tonight.

Holly’s up there somewhere, watching. That thought alone sends a jolt of energy through my veins. She promised something special tonight, and hell, I plan on earning it.

The puck drops, and it’s on. Fast and brutal, just the way we like it. Every pass is a test, every check a chance to show these guys exactly who they’re dealing with. There’s no room for hesitation, no time for second guesses. Just instincts and ice.

First period’s a battle of inches. Both teams are on fire, matching each other hit for hit, goal for goal. By the time the buzzer sounds, it’s 1-1, and we skate off the ice, sweaty and panting, but focused. There’s no panic. Not from me, anyway.

Back in the locker room, Ryan flops down next to me, towel draped around his neck, eyebrow raised. “Why the hell are you smiling? We’re almost trailing, man.”

I shrug, smirking. “Because I know we’re going to win.”

He gives me a look, somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “Alright, who are you and what have you done with Ethan Carter? Youneversmile.”

“What can I say?” I lean back, a grin tugging at my lips. “I’ve got good reasons.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile there, too. “Must be one hell of a reason.”

Coach barks out more instructions, reminding us to play smart, keep our heads, and get back out there swinging. The locker room hums with determination as the second period looms, and every part of me feels alive, ready. The usual nerves? Gone. I’ve got this. We’ve got this.

Back on the ice, something shifts. I can feel it, like a surge of momentum that’s building under our feet, and I’m in the zone. Passes zip past me, but I’m already ahead of them, skating faster than I have in weeks. My stick connects with the puck like it’s second nature, and before I even realize it, I’ve got a breakaway.

“Ethan!” Ryan’s voice is sharp, calling from behind, but I’m already gone.

The goalie’s eyes widen as I approach, but there’s no stopping what’s coming. The puck slides off my stick with a satisfying snap, and just like that, it’s in the net.

2-1. The crowd explodes, and I can feel their energy surging through me. But I’m not done. Not by a long shot.

The second period is a blur of speed and noise. We’re everywhere at once—passing, shooting, checking—and the other team can barely keep up. Every time they think they’ve got a handle on the game we slip through their fingers.

Another pass comes my way, and without thinking, I send it straight to Liam, who fires it into the net without hesitation. 3-1.

The crowd is on their feet now, and I can’t help but glance up at the stands, searching for Holly’s face. She’s up there somewhere, watching, and that thought alone makes everything click. She’s the reason for this fire, for this confidence I haven’t felt in forever.

By the end of the period, we’re in control, and the other team looks like they’ve run out of steam. The buzzer sounds, and we skate off the ice, high-fiving each other like we’ve already won. But there’s still one more period to go, and I’ve never been more ready.

I spot Holly in the stands, and for a second, the world narrows down to just her. She’s smiling—hell, she’sglowing. For a second, I think about blowing her a kiss, but that might be too much, even for me. Instead, I settle for a quick wave, grinning like an idiot.

The crowd goes nuts. I can hear them roaring behind me, but all I see is Holly.

“Who the hell are you waving at?” Ryan appears next to me, his eyes narrowed in mock suspicion.

I shrug, still grinning. “Just doing what the team’s asked me to do all these years. Showing some personality.”

Ryan shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Dude, you’re acting weird. Like, really weird.”

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