Page 8 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

“Holy? That’s an interesting irony.” Ethan’s eyes narrow. “What is Holy Bennett doing here?”

Holly, not Holy you silly man!I shake my head, unable to speak.

Lauren’s smile widens as she looks between us, “Since you wanted parts of the house changed and Holly needed somewhere to stay, I called her in as my friend who’s an interior decorator and event planner. She’s here to help fix the place while she stays.”

Ethan’s expression shifts, and he takes a step back. “No. I don’t want someone like her here. She needs to leave.”

"Excuse me?" I stare at him, my jaw dropped. No way. This can't be happening.

"I said, I don't want her here," he repeats, his voice cold.

My anger flares up again. “Well, too bad. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve paid for my stay by agreeing to do this renovation and buying the supplies I need. I’m going nowhere until I get my money’s worth.”

“What?” Ethan raises an eyebrow. "I’ll pay for that. I just don’t want you here."

My blood starts boiling. “You think money solves everything, don’t you?”

Lauren clears her throat. "Guys, come on. Let's just calm down."

“Ethan, you have to understand. Holly’s been through a lot. Jake, the guy I believe you saw her with in L.A., actually cheated on her. She broke up with him that night and moved to Chicago for a fresh start.”

Ethan’s face flickers with something—sympathy, maybe—but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

Good. Because I don’t want your fucking sympathy.

He huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. You can stay for now. But I’d prefer if you moved out as soon as possible. Take the upstairs, and don’t get in my way.”

With that, he turns and walks out, leaving me standing there, fuming. Lauren places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Don’t take it to heart. He’s just ... complicated. I’ll talk to him.”

I nod, but my mind is racing.Mr. Mysterious is Ethan Carter.The bubble of my perfect handsome mystery man busted already—that’s right in place with how everything has gone for me so far these last few months.

I walk back into the room and collapse onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. This is not how I envisioned my new life in Chicago starting. I close my eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside me.

I'm living with the star of the Chicago Blizzards. The man I met at the club. And he hates me, just like I hate rich, popular men.

Great. Just great.

2

ETHAN

The rink is cold,but I like it that way.

I wouldn’t be the Ice King if the chill in the air didn’t excite me. The chill sharpens my focus, makes everything clear and crisp. I can see the ice beneath my skates mirroring the cold determination in my eyes.

Liam whips the puck to me from the left wing. He’s a twenty-three-year-old player coming off the back of an injury, but he’s got loads of talent. His pass is perfect, a clean and sharp bullet aimed straight at my stick. I catch it with a snap of my wrist, the impact sending a vibration up my glove.

My skates slice through the ice as I dance down the center, the puck gliding effortlessly under my control. Two defenders wearing the practice blue kits converge on me. I can sense them tense their bodies, ready to squeeze me to a stop between two walls of muscle and aggression.

Not today.

I fake left, then right, their bodies shifting with my deception, letting free a gap that I burst through, leaving the ice roaring behind me. Their sticks dart out— too late, missing by inches.

My heart pounds from the thrill as I run toward the blue line to face off with Ryan Connors. Ryan is the Blizzards captain and one of the best defenders in the league.

He watches me approaching, his unlikely combo of smug smile and focused look telling me he’s not going to make this as easy as the other two.

Good. I thrive on challenges.

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