Page 61 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

He struts into the room, all smug confidence, his teeth practically sparkling under the locker room’s overhead lights. The guy oozes arrogance enough for a weasel that’s just found its way into a chicken coop. His eyes land on Holly, and the way they light up—yeah, it takes every bit of self-control to keep from walking over there and knocking that smirk right off his face.

Fists clench at my sides as a slow burn of anger crawls up my spine. Jake Roland isn't just a regular, run-of-the-mill celebrity jerk. Or any other random girlfriend’s ex. I’m man enough tohandle those. But the guy who thought ruining her career would be a great parting gift after their break-up? And now he dares to grin at her like they’re old pals?

Wish we were on the ice rink right now—one on one. But this isn’t the ice rink. And he isn’tjustsome annoying defenseman standing that I can barge my shoulder into and knock out cold.

A decent punch would feel satisfying ... but very scandalous.

No.

Holly shifts on her feet, subtle, but enough for me to notice the discomfort creeping into her posture. Her fingers find and clutch a clipboard just a little bit tighter than necessary, her shoulders stiffen, and that’s all I need to see. The decision’s made before it even clicks in my brain.

My steps are quick and purposeful as I close the distance between us, the space between me and Jake shrinking with each second. He spots me; his grin stretches wider, but there’s a flicker in his eyes, just for a second. He knows.

“Ethan Carter,” Jake’s voice slides out, casual, like we’re best buds. “Good to see you.”

Can’t help the sarcasm dripping from my tone. “Can’t say the feeling’s mutual, Roland.”

“We’ve met before, right?” Jake flashes a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“You’re here for the wrapping event, I assume?” Sarcasm drips from my tone, thick as syrup, and Ryan, who’s halfway through wrapping a giant stuffed penguin, shoots me a side-eye.

Jake’s smile falters, but he keeps his cool. “I wanted to help out, lend a hand, you know? The fans love this stuff.”

I’m about to tell him where he can shove that “helping hand” when Ryan’s cough slices through the tense air. A quick look around confirms the locker room has quieted around us, most of the guys glancing over from the corners of their eyes, sensingsomething brewing. I can feel the weight of their stares, one look at Holly, who’s still wide-eyed, and Jake catches my line of sight.

He chuckles, unbothered. “Are hockey players always so serious? Relax, man. We’re all friends here.” He offers a hand, and I stare at it like it’s a venomous snake. “Big fan of your work, man.”

“Yeah? Must’ve missed the memo,” I grumble, not bothering to take the offered hand. Instead, I cross my arms, muscles straining against my jersey, and lean in just enough to tower over Jake, who’s got a good few inches on me. But not today. Today, I’m 6’4" of barely controlled aggression.

Jake’s tight smile slips, eyes narrowing just slightly. “There’s no need for the animosity, huh?” he leans closer to whisper for only my ears. “I remember you stepping up that night to claim Holly as your girlfriend. Didn’t know she was that close to the Blizzards top star.”

“Now you do.” The words are cold, clipped, but it’s enough to make Jake’s anger flash in his eyes for a second. He opens his mouth to respond, but before things can get extra heated, a familiar voice cuts through.

“Carter! Glad you’re showing up for these things.”

Jonathan Reid. Of course. The team’s director doesn’t miss a beat, stepping in with that no-nonsense, keep-it-together authority he’s mastered over the years. He walks over, placing a hand on my shoulder, and gently pulls me aside.

“Ethan, a word?” It’s not a question.

Biting back the urge to snap, I nod and follow Reid out of earshot of the rest of the team. The tension in my muscles still hasn’t eased, but I force myself to take a breath. Jake isn’t worth a fight—not here, not now.

Reid doesn’t waste time. “What’s going on?”

The look he gives me is part frustration, part curiosity. He knows there’s more to this than just a simple grudge. I glanceback at the locker room, catching Holly’s eye as she quickly looks away.

“Nothing,” I mutter. “Just don’t like him.”

Reid’s brow furrows, but there’s a flicker of understanding there. He’s been around long enough to know that when Ethan Carter “doesn’t like” someone, it’s not just a passing thing.

“Look,” Reid sighs, lowering his voice, “you’ve been doing great lately. The team’s happy with your progress. Just ... be careful. People might start reading into your actions.”

There’s a warning in his tone, one I’ve heard before. This isn’t just about Jake; it’s about how I’m being seen. There’s an image to maintain, something I’ve never been particularly good at caring about. But with Holly in the mix now, everything feels different.

I nod, ready to brush this off and move on, but Reid’s voice stops me. “One more thing, Ethan.”

A pause. He glances at his clipboard, then back at me. “The club’s planning some ‘homecoming’ content, focusing on you for the game against Duluth. Your hometown. We’re hoping you’ll be on board.”

The mention of Duluth sends a cold wave through me, but I keep my face neutral. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

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