Page 95 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

But then Robbins joins in, laughing as his voice slices through. “Hey, Carter! Hypocrisy looks good on you,” he sneers, skating close enough for elbows to brush.

Behind me, I hear some laughter bouncing across the rink, echoing like a taunt.

Cain goes again, “You were just scared we’d go after your girl, huh? Why, is she that cheap?”

That’s it. My restraint shatters, and before I know it, I’m slamming into him, my shoulder hitting hard against his. The sound of bodies clashing echoes through the arena as we spin across the ice.

“What the hell, Ethan?” Cain yells, catching his balance as he whips around, face red and furious.

“You wanted a piece of me?” I snap into his sprawled form. “Congratulations, you’ve got it.”

“Enough!” Coach Andrew’s voice thunders across the rink, and in the span of a second, it’s like the entire place is vacuum-sealed silent. Andrew skates over, stopping only inches away. His eyes are like ice drills boring into me. “Carter, off the ice. Now.”

He gestures to the bench, and even though everything in me screams to argue, I obey. Back on the sidelines, the guys give me sidelong glances, their expressions hovering between worry and something that looks uncomfortably like disappointment.

When the practice finally wraps, I stalk off the ice, heading straight to the locker room, but Ryan’s voice stops me.

“Ethan.” There’s something stern in his tone. Captain-like. He steps in front of me, arms crossed. “Got a minute?”

I grit my teeth, then nod, muttering, “Is this friend Ryan talking, or the team captain?”

His sigh is weary. “Honestly, man, both. The team? They look up to you.” The hallway is a tomb of silence until Ryan’s voice cuts through, steady and unyielding. “What was that out there? Are you the star player or a wrecking ball with an ego problem?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does,” Ryan bangs one fist on the wall. “You should maintain a certain image of calm and this morning didn’t exactly help. You should know better than to react to whatever drivel’s coming out of Cain’s mouth.”

“So that’s it? Let Cain run his mouth, and I keep taking it?”

“Don’t twist my words,” he says sharply, then takes a breath.

I drag a sharp inhale, the kind that hurts going down. “I understand. It’s just right now, I’m not in the right frame of mind … it’s like I’m trying to stand on breaking ice.”

Ryan’s expression softens, brows unknitting, eyes dark with empathy. “Look, as your friend, I get it. You’ve got this whole thing with Holly, and it’s eating you up inside. But Captain Ryan? He can’t let you just keep showing up on the ice ready to bodycheck every teammate who looks at you sideways.”

“I get you, Captain Ryan,” I chuckle dryly.

“Good.” He lowers his voice. “Now as friend Ryan. I know you care about her. Hell, we all see it. But you’re suffering, andnot the usual way you do.” He studies me for a second. “This isn’t just about her, is it?”

The weight of his gaze presses in, and the words claw up before I can hold them back. “I’ve got Blue, Jake Roland, and my own cousin teaming up, trying to ruin what little life I’ve got left here. And Holly…” A pang cuts through my chest. “I’ve never felt this way, Ry. It’s like she’s … hell, she’s it. And I can’t lose her. But she’s already gone.”

Ryan leans back, thoughtful. “Then stop trying to be ‘cool’ about it and fight for her, Ethan. I know you—you don’t back down. Don’t start now.”

I frown, shaking my head. “It’s not that simple.”

Ryan just shrugs. “Nothing worth having ever is.”

For a moment, I stare at him, taking it in. The truth settles, raw and unavoidable. He’s right.

33

HOLLY

Snow sparklesoff the glass panels of the mall as if someone dusted the place with crushed diamonds—an annoyingly romantic sight for someone juggling heartache with holiday shopping. Red and gold garlands loop around the windows, and bells tinkle from somewhere overhead. Festive music spills from every corner, but today, even the Mariah Carey classic sounds like a sad song.

Ridiculous.

I shift the shopping bags from one hand to the other, my fingers turning numb in the chill. I’m here on a mission, to grab last-minute items for the gala. No distractions.

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