Page 43 of Pucking Christmas Triplets Surprise

“You think you got it Josie?” Dylan’s voice flows from behind me, but I don’t turn to him.

“Back the fuck away.” Chrsitopher growls.

“Why? I have nothing else to lose.” Dylan sighs, the stench of vodka invades my nostrils but I hold back the tears.

“I don’t care if you're minutes from death,” Christopher turns towards Dylan, arms crossed. “Get the fuck away.”

“Touch me, and lose your job.” Dylan taunts, but Christopher just lets out a cold, cruel laugh.

“You think I give a fuck about this job?” Chris growls, and right when I am going to turn around to lead him back to me, a deep voice calls for me.

“Miss Richards,” one of the Board members says, stepping forward. His voice echoes in the arena, bouncing off the empty stands. He’s a tall man with silver hair and a thick wool coat, and his gaze feels sharp enough to slice me in half. “After reviewing your performance today and considering your record, we have reached a unanimous decision.”

I hold my breath. My whole world balances on a knife's edge, teetering between triumph and disappointment. My hands curl into fists at my sides as I tryto brace myself.

The Board member’s mouth curves upward, ever so slightly. “Congratulations, Josie Richards. You are officially on the U.S. Olympic Team.”

My knees nearly buckle, and I clamp my hand over my mouth to stifle the sob of relief that breaks free. Christopher’s arm wraps around my waist, holding me steady as the room spins.I did it. I’m on the team. The Olympic Team. The dream I’ve chased since I was a little girl, watching the greats perform on our old, boxy television, is suddenly mine.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I did it.”

Christopher’s lips brush my ear, his voice thick with pride. “You did it, Josie. You made it.”

The Board members offer polite congratulations before turning to leave, their footsteps echoing through the rink. The moment they’re gone, I collapse against Christopher, letting my emotions pour out in a torrent of relieved laughter and tears.

“I’m on the team,” I repeat, as if saying it out loud will make it more real, and it does. “I’m actually on the team.”

Christopher holds me close, his hands stroking up and down my back, and his smile is so big it makes my heart swell. “I told you. There was never any doubt.”

I pull back to look at him, my face breaking into a grin. “Maybe for you. I was a nervous wreck.”

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, maybe I was a little nervous too.” He glances around the rink, and then, as if remembering something, he pulls back. “There’s one more thing I need to take care of.”

I watch, confused, as he crosses the rink and strides toward the group gathered at the other end. Principal Perkins and Dylan stand there whisper-yelling to each other. They keep pointing to me, the red of their anger flushing their necks. My eyes dart back to Chris as his eyes narrow on me.

“Christopher, what are you doing?” I call, but he doesn’t answer.

Dylan slowly claps, his hands coming together with mocking precision. “Well, look who made it,” he sneers, his voice laced with venom. “The talentless little bitch is on the Olympic Team.” His words cut deep, a cruel jab aimed at my every insecurity.

I feel the sting of it, but I bury it deep along with all the other things Dylan has called me. I turn to say something but Christopher is already crossing the floor, his eyes trained on him.

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

Dylan's smirk only grows, and he takes a slow step forward. “What? I think I have a right to comment on the actions ofmytraitorous whore!”

Christopher doesn’t flinch. Instead, he moves so fast that Dylan doesn’t see it coming. With a swift motion, Christopher punches Dylan square in the face, the sound of contact echoing through the rink. Dylan stumbles back, shocked, clutching his jaw as he glares at Christopher.

A shocked silence blankets the arena for a moment, but it’s quickly broken as Christopher turns toward Principal Perkins. The man looks like he’s about to burst a vein.

Christopher doesn’t bother with small talk. “I quit.Effective immediately.”

A stunned silence falls over the rink. My jaw drops. Perkins blinks, clearly not expecting that, and he splutters. “Now hold on a minute?—”

“No.” Christopher cuts him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m done.”

Perkins looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel, but Christopher doesn’t give him a chance to argue. Instead, he turns on his heel and walks back toward me, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. I can only stare at him, awed and so madly in love.

“You just quit,” I whisper, as he approaches.

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