20. Holly
20
HOLLY
Today’s charity auction was supposed to be my golden ticket. The secret sauce. The magical event where everything aligns, people smile and throw their wallets at the items, and I sit back feeling like a successful, organized goddess in control of everything.
Except, right now, the only thing getting thrown around at this event is my sanity, and it’s starting to feel more like a slow-motion train wreck than anything magical.
The whole setup is there—Chicago Blizzard jerseys lined up like little soldiers, signed merch sparkling under the fluorescent lights, and tables filled with glossy memorabilia that practically scream, “Buy me for a good cause!” Except, well, there’s a problem. A big one. The people? You know, the fans ? They’re not here.
And this isn’t just a case of "fashionably late" either. This is "no one bothered to show up to the party you’ve been planning for weeks " kind of late. The clock ticks, mocking me with every second. Where’s the excitement? The crowd? The sea of eager faces, waving cash and ready to snag an autographed puck like it’s the last cookie at Christmas dinner?
Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Across the room, Lauren’s leaning against a table, scrolling through her phone like it’s no big deal, as if the fate of my event and, let’s be real, my entire career isn’t hanging in the balance.
“Calm down,” she says without even glancing up. “People will come.”
“Oh yeah, right,” comes the mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm. “We’ll be swimming in a sea of fans any second now. We might even need a lifeboat.”
Lauren finally looks up, eyebrows raised. “Holly, breathe. It’s early. Things will pick up.”
Early? Early ? It’s not early—it’s practically midday , and the only thing getting picked up around here is the tumbleweed of my hopes and dreams, rolling across the empty floor. My hands fly to my hair, gripping it like maybe, just maybe, that’ll keep me from completely losing it.
Jonathan Reid’s voice rings in my head like an annoying doorbell that just won’t stop. “Your events have been solid, Holly. But we need more. The club needs more.”
More? Yeah, well, this is more. More panic. More disaster. More zero turnout .
Lauren walks over, her hand resting on my shoulder, her voice all Zen and chill, like I’m not currently on the verge of spontaneously combusting. “People love your events, Holly. Trust me. They’ll show up.”
“Show up when? Tomorrow?” The words come out sharper than intended, but Lauren just shrugs it off like a pro.
“You’re spiraling.”
“Of course I’m spiraling!” Hands wave dramatically, pointing at the empty tables. “We’re supposed to be swimming in Blizzard fans right now, not ... not drowning in silence!”
Lauren’s about to respond when—of course— the phone rings . And not just any phone call. Oh no. The universe, in all its twisted sense of humor, has decided it’s Jake calling.
Jake Roland.
The guy has the audacity to breathe in the same world as me after everything. Fingers hover over the decline button, a decision that takes about 0.2 seconds. Decline. Not today, Satan.
But two seconds later, it rings again. His name flashing like a neon sign screaming, “Trouble!”
Lauren’s eyebrow quirks up. “Jake?”
A huff escapes. “Ugh. Yes.”
“Didn’t you already ditch that nightmare?”
“ Apparently the nightmare isn’t ditching me yet.” The phone rings again. Fine. This time, there’s a snarl in the voice. “What, Jake?”
“Oh, hey, Holly,” Jake’s voice oozes through the phone, that smug grin practically audible. “Just wanted to ask—are you really dating Ethan Carter?”
Eyes roll so hard it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck. “That’s none of your business.” My hiss attracts Lauren, who’s now eyeing me with concern. “If that’s all, I’m hanging up.”
But Jake chuckles, a sound that makes me want to stab a pillow—or maybe several pillows.
“Actually, there’s more, Holly. It’s about your little charity event at the Peninsula. You’re welcome to end the call, by the way.”
A sick feeling starts to creep up. “What do you mean by that? And how do you know I’m holding an event at the Peninsula.”
“Well, it’s just interesting how much I know.” He pauses, letting the word linger like some sort of sleazy aftertaste. “And that includes how I know your event’s looking a little ... quiet .”
There’s a split second where everything freezes. The question hangs in the air like smoke from a fire I really don’t want to deal with right now. “What are you talking about? How did you know?”
“Oh, I’m not a mage yet, you know?” The smirk in his voice is so thick, it’s practically dripping through the phone. “I’m doing a meet and greet with fans. Just in the same building.”
And there it is. The gut punch. The absolute nerve of this guy.
“ You —” My voice tightens, somewhere between anger and disbelief. “You’re siphoning my crowd for your own pathetic ego trip?”
Jake chuckles, completely unbothered. “Relax, Holly. I could swing by, help you out if you want. Maybe draw in some of the crowd?—"
The phone is almost flung across the room. Almost. Instead, I tighten my fingers around it like a lifeline, knuckles white. “Absolutely not,” I snap. “I don’t need your help.”
“Well, suit yourself.” The smirk lingers. “Good luck with your little event.”
And with that, the call is over. Just like that. As if my world isn’t crashing down around me, and Jake’s just merrily walking away, unscathed.
Face drops into hands, the overwhelming urge to scream bubbling up from somewhere deep. Lauren, sensing the absolute meltdown brewing, comes over, her voice firm now. “Okay, what was that about?”
My frustration spills out in one breathless rush. “Jake’s doing a meet and greet nearby. That’s why no one’s here. He’s pulling my crowd, and he knows it.”
Lauren frowns, her lips pressing into a thin line. “That sleazy—okay, look. We can fix this.”
“How?” The word practically shouts itself. “By some miracle, can we magically conjure up a new crowd?”
Lauren’s grin is almost wicked. “We don’t need magic. We’ve got our hockey players. We just need one of them to pull some of the crowd—and you know the perfect guy for this.”
My eyes almost pop out of my head. “No, no, no. We are not pulling Ethan into this.”
But Lauren’s already pulling out her phone. “This is exactly what we’re going to do.”
Before any further protests can spill out, Lauren’s fingers fly over her phone, and within minutes, she’s on the line with Ethan. The words are exchanged too fast to follow, but soon enough, her grin grows wider.
“He’s coming,” she says, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “And he’s bringing back-up.”
“Back-up?” I blink, still processing. “As in...?”
“As in the entire team .”
“What?” The word bursts out like a firecracker, a mix of disbelief and something dangerously close to excitement. “The whole team?”
“Yup. Ethan’s going to tweet about it, and trust me, fans will be here before you can blink.” Lauren smirks, arms crossed like she’s just solved world peace.
True to her word, not even five minutes pass before the first buzz hits my phone. A notification.
EthanCarter
Hey, Blizzards fans! The team’s at the charity event today at the Peninsula. Swing by to grab some signed merch and support the community!
That single tweet sends the floodgates open. Fans start to pour in like an ocean wave. Within moments, the empty room transforms, filled with eager faces, excitement buzzing in the air, cameras flashing as they pose with players.
I watch in awe, my heart swelling with a gratitude so overwhelming, it almost knocks the breath out of my lungs. Ethan— my Ethan—has saved the day. Again.
He arrives soon, too, slipping through the crowd, his usual brooding aura a little lighter, a small smile tugging at his lips. I find myself drifting toward him, and before I can stop myself, I’m pulling him into a quiet corner, away from the madness. I don’t know whether to cry or kiss Ethan on the spot. Obviously, I settle for a mental scream of thank you, thank you, thank you .
“How did you do it?” The words are soft, filled with the wonder churning inside me.
“How did I do what?”
“How did you get everyone here so fast?”
Ethan smirks, that classic ice-king vibe still hanging around but softer now. “It’s nothing.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, but my heart swells. Not just because he’s saved my event, but because he did it without hesitation.
“I still want to know.”
Ethan leans against the wall, his eyes meeting mine, that familiar intensity sparking between us. “Called in a favor.”
“A favor?”
“Yeah.” His grin turns slightly mischievous. “We’ve got this thing on the team. Everyone holds one ‘favor card’ per season. You can ask any teammate for a favor, and they have to say yes. I just cashed mine in.”
The words hit like a freight train, but not in a bad way. In a way that makes my heart do that annoying fluttery thing it does whenever I look at him for too long. He did this. For me.
“You are ... amazing.”
He shrugs again, all casual like it’s no big deal, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. It feels like the smile that spreads across his face could light up the whole room.
“You deserve the spotlight. You’ve worked too hard for this.”
Heart swelling again, the warmth of his words wrap around me like a cozy blanket. And in that moment, everything feels right. More right than anything’s ever felt before.
But of course, because the universe loves a good plot twist, my phone rings. Again.
Jake. Again.
My eyes flick to the screen, frustration bubbling back up. Ethan quickly notices the change in my expression, and his eyes fly to the screen, his jaw tightening.
“Let me guess,” Ethan murmurs, “Jake.”
“Yep.”
Before I can hit decline, Ethan reaches out, his expression darkening like the sky before a storm. He motions for the phone. I hand it over without a second thought, mostly because he looks like he’s about to go full-blown Hulk. He gently takes the phone. “I’ll handle it.”
There’s no room for argument. He presses the answer button, bringing the phone to his ear, his voice dropping to that dangerously calm tone that sends chills down my spine.
“Jake,” Ethan says, his voice cool and collected. “You’ve crossed the line.”
There’s a beat of silence on the other end before Jake’s voice crackles through, sounding smug as ever. “Ethan, I didn’t realize?—”
“You’re going to leave Holly alone. Got it?” Ethan’s tone sharpens, every word like a cold slice of steel. “Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
The silence on the other end stretches long enough to fill a small eternity, but when Jake finally speaks, there’s a new edge in his voice. “You think you can threaten me?”
“It’s not a threat,” Ethan replies, his voice calm and unshakable. “It’s a promise.”
With that, he ends the call, handing the phone back, I stand there, stunned and more than a little impressed.
“I—wow.” The words stumble out, my heart racing. “That was intense.”
Ethan shrugs again, his gaze softening as he looks at me. “He deserved it.”
My fingers tighten around the phone, the weight of his words settling deep. It’s unclear what words I should say right now, so instead, I step closer, and place a hand on his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding me. “Thank you.”
The tension simmers between us, that familiar heat sparking, and before either of us can think twice, our lips meet in a slow, lingering kiss that sends electricity shooting through my veins.
Pulling back moments later, breathless, a wicked grin spreads across my face. “I’d love to continue this, but we should get back to the event.”
Ethan’s eyes darken slightly, his hand sliding around my waist. “Later, then.”
My smirk spreads, as I lean in close. “Oh, definitely later.”
We step back into the event, the crowd still buzzing, the team signing autographs, the tables full of fans eager to support the cause. The room hums with the kind of energy I had only dreamed of at the start of the day, and now, standing here with Ethan by my side, it feels like everything has fallen perfectly into place.