Page 99 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

“Maybe you’re right,” I mumble finally, pressing the phone to my forehead. “But why are you doing this?”

“Call it a Christmas epiphany,” Frank says, and then, with the faintest trace of warmth I’ve never heard from him before, “Merry Christmas, Ethan.”

The line clicks off, leaving me in silence again, surrounded by my own half-drunk lineup of holiday cheer.

I sit there, still, trying to process what just happened, when another buzz on my phone snaps me back to the present—Reid. A tiny crack of relief breaks through the numbness. Work, at least, is something I can control.

“Ethan,” Reid begins without preamble. “Raymond Blue’s been exposed; the whole thing’s a wash for him. It turns out he had a vendetta, and I also think you’ll be pleased to knowthat Jake Roland’s marketing contract with the team has been terminated. Your suspension is also lifted.”

I grip the phone a little tighter. “And what about Holly?”

“Well, that’s part of why I’m calling. The team has dealt with the worst of the fallout, but we need you back without a whisper of scandal. Now, we want to keep things clear, so she’s going to need?—”

“Don’t let go of her.” The words come out harsher than I intend. I take a breath. “Listen, anything you need from me—PR, contract changes, whatever it takes—just keep Holly out of this. And know I’ll be there for the team.”

There’s a pause on the other end, then Reid sighs, his voice lighter. “You got it, Ethan. The board has no plans to lose Holly, not after everything she’s done here. And we’ll leave the PR in your hands.”

I feel the weight shift just a little—one less battle, at least. I’ve got Holly’s back in this, and if it’s up to me, no one’s going to blame her for anything that happened.

After the call, a realization blooms, like something out of place—I want to fight for her, to see her happy. Even if she doesn’t want to have much to do with me again. The darkness and hatred that bred in me since I lost David has probably scared away my best chance at love and now it’s time to get rid of it.

There's only one place to do that. I throw on a coat and key the ignition, guiding the car onto the icy streets. Snow flurries around me, thickening the air until it feels like I’m driving through a memory.

The cemetery comes into view, a silent, endless sea of white. David’s grave is marked by a small stone, dusted in snow. My feet crunch against the ground as I approach, every step a bit heavier than the last.

When I finally reach it, I stand there for a long moment, just looking at the name etched in stone. David Carter. Beloved Brother.

“Hey, little bro,” I whisper. The words hang in the air, freezing before they can reach anyone’s ears. “Miss you, you know.”

I pause, letting the silence settle like snow on my shoulders. “I’ve been mad, David. Just so mad that you left. But I get it now. It’s not about what happened—it’s about what you’d want for me now.”

I clear my throat, and my voice comes out rough, “I’m sorry, David. For everything.” The words hang in the air, mingling with the mist of my breath. I thank him too—for everything he’d given me, even if it ended too soon. And with each word, the weight in my chest seems to lift, bit by bit, like I’m finally unburdening myself from a load I didn’t realize I’d been carrying.

Snow begins to fall faster, tiny flakes dancing down from the sky, settling on the gravestone and on my shoulders. It feels almost like a blessing. And then, through the snowfall, I hear a voice.

“Hey, Ethan.”

I look up, startled, and there she is. Holly. She’s standing a few feet away, her silhouette framed against the white landscape, cheeks flushed and her breath fogging the air. She looks relieved, maybe even a little nervous.

“Holly?” My voice is thick, caught between shock and something else—something warmer.

She steps closer, her hands stuffed into her coat pockets, and lets out a small laugh, shaky but genuine. “I, uh, I thought you might be here.”

For a second, neither of us says anything, and the silence feels almost expectant. Like the air is holding its breath, waiting for one of us to break it. Holly’s eyes dart away, then back tomine, and she starts talking, words tumbling out like she’s been holding them in too long.

“I was wrong, Ethan. About you, about everything. I let my past, my fears get in the way. I thought I could protect myself by keeping everyone at arm’s length, especially someone like you. And I’m sorry.” Her voice falters, but she pushes on, eyes glistening. “I’ve never trusted anyone in my career, especially not after Jake. But you? You’re different.”

Her words cut through me, sharp and warm, and I feel something thaw in my chest that I hadn’t realized was frozen. I open my mouth to respond, but she beats me to it, her voice stronger now.

“Oh, and by the way,” she adds, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Raymond? He’s done. I made sure the world knows what a snake he is, how he tried to ruin you.” She gives a little shrug, as if it’s no big deal, but the smile on her face says otherwise.

I’m staring at her, barely able to believe it. Holly—fierce, brave, beautiful Holly—took down Raymond Blue for me. For us.

I step forward, closing the space between us until I can see the tiny snowflakes clinging to her lashes. “You’re incredible, you know that?” My voice comes out low, barely more than a murmur, and I feel the weight of my words settle between us.

She lets out a small, breathy laugh, her cheeks turning a shade pinker. “Well, it takes one to know one.”

In that moment, I realize I can’t hold back anymore. I reach for her, my hands finding her waist, pulling her close until there’s barely an inch between us. The snow falls softly around us, and her eyes meet mine, wide and bright.

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