Page 97 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

“I made a mistake,” the words tumble out, raw and heavy. My mind is already racing ahead, patching together the pieces, wondering if there’s still time to fix what’s been broken.

“Then go to him,” Mandy says, her tone urgent, a plea. “He’s more fragile than he looks.”

Mandy’s words are still heavy on my heart as I step in the sparkling event hall. The place looks like some high-end outpost of the North Pole, overflowing with fans, players, media types, and a ridiculous number of holiday wreaths. I weave through the crowd, my heartbeat racing faster with each step. It’s ironic—I spent way too long choosing this dress, an emerald-green onethat fits me like it was custom-made, but all I can think about is him.

Just as I scan the room, Ryan steps into view, grinning in that sly, you’re-not-fooling-anyone way he’s perfected. “He’s around here somewhere,” he says, his voice carrying that teasing lilt. “Probably brooding in a corner. You know, star player attitude and all.”

I let out a half-chuckle, my stomach twisting with worry. “He’s not angry, is he?”

Ryan cocks an eyebrow. “Angry? No. Miserable? Definitely.” He pats my shoulder, like a gentle nudge forward. “You should talk to him, Holly.”

Before I can even nod, an all-too-familiar figure steps into my line of sight. Great. Just perfect. Jake Roland—dressed to the nines and oozing that “Hollywood heartthrob” energy he’s so obsessed with. He waltzes over, smirk firmly in place.

“Ah, Jake. What an unexpected nuisance,” I mutter.

His smile widens. “Always a pleasure, Holly.” He glances me up and down, his gaze lingering just a second too long. “You look … polished. Almost like you think you belong here.”

My fists clench, but I plaster on a calm expression. “I do belong here, Jake. If that’s shocking, feel free to find the exit.”

He leans in, his smirk growing more irritating by the second. “The big hockey star, huh? Ethan? Really scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren’t you?”

“Better the bottom of a barrel than the pit of an ego,” I snap, taking a step back. “And just so we’re clear—I love him.”

Jake’s face twists, and before I know it, his hand shoots out, gripping my arm a little too tightly. “You think a guy like him can give you what you need?” His voice is low, dangerous. “Because I promise you, Holly, he’s going to let you down—just like you let me down.”

Before I can wrench my arm free or even find words, another voice cuts through, sharp and cold.

“Get your hands off her.”

Ethan stands there, his eyes glinting like steel. Every line of him radiates a protective fury that could freeze the entire room. Jake drops my arm and takes a step back, sneering, but clearly nervous.

“This isn’t over, Holly,” he mutters.

“Actually, Jake,” I reply with the coldest smile I can muster, “it is.” I glance at Ethan, giving him a slight nod. I’m ready to let him handle this.

Suddenly, Jake lunges forward, but Ethan’s quicker. He steps out of the way, causing Jake’s projection to land him on the floor—hard. Everything blurs, and before I know it, the whole room erupts in chaos. Ryan and Liam dive in, pulling Ethan back just as Jake stumbles, clutching his nose. Cameras flash, phones are raised, and I stand there, heart pounding as Ethan is finally led away, his fury still simmering, uncontainable.

Lauren’s arm circles around me as she whispers. “Let’s get out of here.”

By the morningof Christmas Eve, social media is on fire. Articles, videos, memes—my feed’s turned into some twisted holiday montage. I’m staring at the screen in shock, disbelief churning into worry as the headlineBlizzard Star Caught in Gala Brawlblazes up at me. I swallow hard.

Ethan’s suspension is everywhere, his career hanging by a thread, and I know I can’t just sit here and watch it happen. My phone buzzes—a message from Lauren:

We need to fix this.

I let out a breath, the worry in my chest hardening into pure resolve. Time to form a grand plan. It’s past due for someone to turn the tables on Raymond Blue, who’s been spreading Ethan’s so-called “scandals” with way too much glee.

Raymond, you’re about to lose the spotlight.

The plan’s straightforward: meet Raymond at a local café, dangle a few tempting tidbits about Ethan, then, when he’s all in, dig out the truth. My heart races as I slide into the booth, my phone discreetly hidden under my scarf, recording and ready.

Raymond strolls in, oblivious and smug, sliding into the seat across from me with his fingers tapping impatiently on the table.

“Miss Bennett. Let’s skip the pleasantries. What do you have for me?”

I give him my sweetest smile, with just enough venom. “I thought you’d like to know that Ethan Carter has a few skeletons in the closet.”

Raymond’s eyes light up, pure greed gleaming in them. “Oh, I bet he does.”

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