Page 81 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

Or maybe it’s just like Jake all over again, my brain whispers, throwing gasoline on the smoldering fire of doubt.

“Talk to him,” Lauren says firmly. “You’ve got history, sure, but it’s different now, isn’t it? You’redifferentnow.”

True. But past fears have an uncanny ability to curl their claws right around the heart, and tonight, those claws are digging in deep.

26

ETHAN

Snow flutters outside,layering the street in icy lace. The neighborhood is silent, every sound softened, hushed, as if the whole world’s a snow globe. From the window, the streetlights look like tiny stars trying to pierce through the gray haze. It’s late, too late for me to be sitting here, but sleep feels far away tonight.

There’s a restlessness pressing in, the kind that starts small but sinks deep, settling just beneath the ribs.

It’s the kind of night when I’d love to be wrapped up in Holly’s arms, while she tells me about silly Christmas parties and jokes her parents tell around the bright Christmas trees.

Wishes clearly aren’t horses.

I’m stuck sitting out here while Holly’s door is shut with a finality I’ll never get used to. She disappeared hours ago, just after I arrived home. And the only thing stopping me from walking to her door to knock is guilt burning below my ribs. The truth of the day lingers, coiled up in a half-truth and one big, blatant lie—I wasn’t with the guys. I’d spent the day doing something that makes me burn with shame.

I don’t know if it’s my lie or something else, but something’s off with Holly. She’d been silent, careful even, the way people are when they’re sitting on something heavy. And the tension—that familiar, invisible pull in the air—keeps dragging my thoughts back to her.

And I’m on my second glass of beer because a drink seems like the logical way to drown the uncertainty. The glass in hand doesn’t do much, though, and the snow’s barely a distraction. But maybe she’s asleep now. She’d said goodnight so subtly earlier, like she’d been balancing on a wire. If she’s up there, asleep or even pretending to be, all this guilt doesn’t get any easier.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, a sharp pulse against the quiet of the night. It’s not exactly a welcome noise, and I pull the gadget out sluggishly; the name flashing on the screen drags me straight back to my lie.

It’s Mandy. The woman I’d spent the day with.

Answering means stepping outside, and with a quiet as close to silent as possible, the door opens and clicks shut behind me. The air’s sharp enough to cut skin, but the shed’s close enough for cover.

“Ethan?” her voice comes through, soft, hesitant.

“Mandy.” There’s no warmth in it. No need for pretense. She can’t feel it, but out here, the air’s even colder, the kind that seeps in, stiffening everything from hands to resolve.

“Thank you for meeting me earlier today.”

“You said I’m your only family member in town.”

She chuckles dryly. “That’s true. But you don’t owe it to me to come see me. And it’s also true I’d have been stranded on a cold snowy day in Chicago if you decided not to see me. So, thank you, again.”

Mandy is the only member of Frank Carter’s nuclear family that I can stand. And when she’d called me on my way to Ryan’sto say that she’s in town and she had nowhere to stay, I’d asked her to meet me at the Blizzards mall.

David and Mandy used to be very close but my uncle Frank and his wife Gloria did everything to separate them, just like they did everything to make my brother’s life, and mine, difficult, but I’d never forget the times Mandy had our backs. But her being in Chicago means something’s up and she told me she was too embarrassed to tell me to my face earlier today but she’d call later.

It seems she’s found her courage.

“You can speak to me, Mandy.”

“Ethan, I know it isn’t fair to ask anything of you, and you owe us nothing. And my mom also shouldn’t be able to ask anything more. But,” her words tangle as she sniffles, “Mom’s got a plan. A business. And somehow, you’re the one tapped to help us get it off the ground.”

My sigh pulls itself out without permission. Gloria, who made it clear to anyone who’d listen, over the years just how worthless the Carter brothers were in her eyes. Who hadn’t lifted a finger when we’d been up against everything on our own. And now, I’m being asked to open up the bank for her?

Mandy’s voice softens, as if she can sense the tension through the line. “You’re probably hating every second of this.”

The understatement of the century.“Mandy, we both know this isn’t your fault. But Gloria sent you because you’re the one I’d listen to, right?”

A long pause hangs between us. Finally, a sigh. “She thinks I can make you see it’s a family thing, that we’re trying to keep something afloat.”

Family. That word feels as fake as any greeting card message when it comes to Uncle Frank’s circle. Blood ties that are meant to mean loyalty, protection, a bond. Instead, they’re just a chain,weighed down with the same manipulations over and over. And Mandy, as much as she might try, is just another link.

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