Page 92 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

Blood drains from my face, as an image floods into my mind—Jake smirking as he sits with Holly, playing his twisted little mind games. If Jake’s gone to see her, nothing good can follow. Ignoring the stares from Lauren and Ryan, I drop Lauren’s phone and spin on my heel, making for the exit, leaving the half-decorated gala hall behind.

The driveway is dark as I pull in, the house standing silent and still against the twinkling lights of the surrounding neighborhood. Shadows shift near the corner, and then my cousin steps out, that same cocky grin in place, eyes gleaming like a snake in the shadows.

“So, this is the life you’ve made for yourself. Living with your littleevent manager, Ethan?”

I turn off the ignition and step out of the car. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

“Right now?” his mocking tone is honeyed with condescension. “Wondering how you mix business with pleasure?”

“Get out,” I growl, keeping my voice low but laced with warning.

Jake’s expression doesn’t change. “Oh, come on. You’re not tossing family out into the cold, are you?”

“Out.” The word is sharp, pointed, a growl barely contained.

“I heard Mandy came to see you,” Jake leans closer, unbothered. “She gave you that pity business loan talk?” A pause, gauging my reaction, then, “My sweet sister may havetaken that little loan of yours for herself. Clever girl—one last grab before her vanishing act.”

The blow lands with a familiar bitterness, but I’m done—done being the Carters’ puppet. “Consider yourself warned. Show up again, and I’ll have you thrown out in handcuffs.”

Jake’s brows lift, feigning a slight pout. “Touchy, touchy,” he taunts, but my glare is enough to turn him around.

With Jake gone, I finally run through the front door. A tense silence hangs over the house, and my heart sinks. Holly’s standing in the middle of the living room, her face pale as she packs her belongings into a small suitcase.

“What are you doing?” I ask, voice sharper than intended.

She doesn’t look at me, just keeps folding her clothes with a measured calm that’s somehow worse than anger. “I need to leave, Ethan. The team already knows about us, and with the way they’re talking, it’s just going to get worse. I don’t want to drag you down.”

I take a step forward, swallowing the growing lump in my throat. “So, that’s it? You’re just leaving?”

She finally looks up, her eyes filled with something I can’t quite name—pain, resignation, something heavy and cold. “This is for the best, Ethan. We have different goals. You love this team, this life. I don’t fit into that. Not in the long run.”

Her words slam into me like a hit on the ice, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. “You think I care what people are saying? Holly, none of that matters. You matter.”

But she shakes her head, looking down as she zips her suitcase. “I can’t do this, Ethan. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” I demand, voice louder, harsher than I want. The silence stretches between us, cold and unyielding.

She lets out a shaky breath. “I’m just facing reality, Ethan. We’re too different to be able to make this work long term.”

“We can make it work!” My voice is breaking, raw and unfiltered. “If you feel anything for me at all, don’t walk away like this.”

She shakes her head. “Sometimes feelings aren’t enough to bridge everything.”

Her hand falters on the suitcase handle, her eyes catching mine one last time, filled with a mixture of regret and something close to resolve. “I’m sorry, Ethan,” she whispers, voice barely audible.

And then, like a ghost, she’s gone. The door closes softly behind her, leaving me standing alone in the quiet, the sound of her absence ringing louder than anything.

31

HOLLY

WatchingChristmas lights twinkle used to fill me with a kind of unexplainable cheer that I’ve always calledChristmas magicsince I was ten. No matter how sad I was, the season lightened my heart and filled me with joy.

Not today.

Curled up on the sofa in Lauren and Mia’s house. I sink into the embrace of a blanket that’s fresh out of the dryer—the heavy decorations feel warm, safe, but never quite enough to chase away the chill that’s set deep in the bones.

Lauren sits across from me, legs tucked underneath her, looking like a mix between a concerned best friend and an overprotective sister with an intense gaze that says,I won’t ask until you’re ready, but don’t even think about staying quiet.

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