7. Holly
7
HOLLY
I stand on the edge of the practice rink, the cold air biting at my cheeks, but I barely feel it. Lauren is beside me, listing off the names of each player as they glide across the ice, setting up for practice. Her voice is a comforting drone, but my attention is fixed elsewhere. My eyes scan the ice, searching for a familiar face.
There he is, Ethan.
He’s gliding across the ice with effortless grace.
"He's so good," I murmur to Lauren, my voice barely a whisper.
Lauren nods, her eyes following him. "He's one of the best in the league. Really good at this hockey thing."
He’s pretty good at other things, too.
I smile, a warm feeling spreading through me. I had plenty of proof last night.
The coach, dressed in the now familiar blue tracksuit, whistles. He discusses something with the players and sends them out onto the rink to practice. I watch them file out, their movements a synchronized dance.
Ethan seems to be in his element, his every move confident and precise. I can't help but be mesmerized.
He moves across the ice with a grace and power that leaves me breathless. Each stride is smooth, effortless, as if he’s part of the ice itself. I can’t help but gasp, whispering, “He’s so perfect, isn’t he?”
Lauren stops mid-sentence and gives me a curious look. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “Just ... he’s really good.”
Lauren laughs. “Yeah, I told you five minutes ago that Ethan’s one of the best.”
As if on cue, the puck is passed to Ethan. He pauses, standing still for a fraction of a second—long enough for a larger player to slam into him, sending him sprawling across the ice.
“Ethan!” I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.
I glare at her. "He could have been hurt!"
She shrugs. "Hockey is a physical sport. Risk of injury is part of the game."
I know she's right, but it doesn't stop me from worrying. I watch as Ethan gets back up, his face a mask of determination. He's clearly used to getting hit. I heave a sigh as he gets back into the game.
Lauren looks at me funny. “Are you that worried about your housemate?”
I scramble for an excuse. “I just ... I don’t want him to get hurt. He’s, you know, my housemate.”
Lauren chuckles. “Ethan isn’t new to being hit like that. Most of the players are in top physical condition. They can take it.”
“I know,” I mumble, my mind flashing back to the previous night.
Yeah, Ethan’s in top physical condition. I confirmed that with my own eyes . I can still remember the feeling of his rock- hard abs and tight pecs under my hands as he lay on top of me. I can still feel the heat of his body, the strength in his muscles.
Lauren’s voice drones on in the background, talking about my new job and how I’ll need to navigate working with these men. She knows I have issues with rich, popular men after my trauma with Jake. I grunt and mumble responses, my eyes never leaving Ethan.
I remember waking up this morning, seeing him lying next to me. He looked like some Greek god, a titan, asleep, with his eyelashes resting gently against his cheek and his dark, curly mop of hair spread over the pillow. Some strands curtained his face, and I moved them aside, tempted to kiss him. But he stirred, and I got out of bed before he woke up, not knowing how to react or how he’d react if we woke up together. Not wanting to linger in that moment of intimacy until it changed to something embarrassing.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I can't let myself get too attached. He's a hockey player, popular, too handsome for his own good. I’d bet good money he’s just going to be another transient figure in my life if I let him in.
They all are. They think they’re too good to be bagged by just one woman.
Or are you any different, Ethan Carter?
Just then, Ethan turns around, and our eyes meet across the ice. He pauses, watching me, and for a moment, it feels like the world stops. My heart slows down, everything slows, and the moment feels magical. But it’s broken by another player crashing into Ethan, sending him sprawling again.
I gasp again, almost running onto the ice to check if he’s okay.
Lauren cocks her head. “Yeah, he’s not as focused as he used to be. I wonder what his distraction is.” She looks at me, a knowing glint in her eye. “Did you notice anything unusual last night?”
My face heats up in mortification. I remember having my tongue stuck down the Blizzards star forward’s throat last night. “No, nothing unusual.”
Lauren stares at me for a long moment, then says, “Ethan is so important to the team. The management is trying to help him shake off his grief so he can play with a smile again. That’s why they want you to add him to your project.”
I turn back to focus on the practice, my eyes on Ethan. I wonder who it was on the phone with him this morning. It seemed like family, but he’d sounded so angry.
“Is Ethan on good terms with his family?” I ask Lauren.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. He doesn’t talk much, even during our sessions.”
I nod, thinking about how he’d retreated into his shell this morning. I’d been so happy to get the call to come here today. My first assignment is arranging a series of festive events to link fans and players together. I wanted to tell Ethan about the job, maybe ask him for a ride here, but he’d been on that call. As soon as he ended it, he hurried out before I could speak to him. Ethan Carter sure knows how to retreat into his shell.
In some ways, it leaves me confused. I don’t know if he’s the chivalrous, passionate lover who saved me from Jake last night or the aloof, closed-off man I saw this morning. Each situation seems to bring out a different side of him, and I’ve learned not to trust a man who can’t stay consistent.
I watch him skate off to the bench, wondering what part of him I’ll see this time, when I have to work with him.
As the practice continues, Ethan’s focus seems to waver. He’s not his usual sharp, precise self. My heart aches as I watch him struggle. The defender slams into him again, and he crashes to the ice. Coach Andrew blows his whistle, pulling him off the ice.
Ethan skates to the bench, looking frustrated and lost. His eyes meet mine again, and I can see the turmoil in them. Lauren’s words echo in my mind. “He’s so important to the team. The management is trying to help him shake off his grief.”
I want to help him, to reach out and offer some comfort, but I don’t know how. I don’t even know if he’d accept it. Ethan Carter is a puzzle, and every time I think I’ve figured out a piece, another part shifts, changing the picture.
Lauren is talking to me, but I'm not listening. My mind is racing, trying to make sense of what's happening.
I hear my name, and I snap back to reality. "What?" I ask, my voice a little too loud.
Lauren raises an eyebrow. "You okay? You seem a bit out of it."
I nod, trying to focus. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."
She gives me a knowing look. "You were up late, weren't you?"
I blush. "A bit."
“Why?”
I blink twice, quickly thinking about a plausible answer. “I was excited about starting the new job today.”
She laughs. "You're a mess, you know that?"
I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. I’d better get my shit together. Lauren is sharp like a tack and she’ll pick up on me acting weird sooner or later if I don’t get my head in order.
We both watch the practice wind down, my eyes still on Ethan as I see him talking to Coach Andrew. They seem to be having a serious conversation. I wonder what they’re discussing. Maybe his performance? Maybe his focus? I wondered just how much our passionate tryst contributed to this awkward morning and how he’ll react to this.
Lauren nudges me. “We should go. You have a lot of work to do.”
I nod, tearing my eyes away from Ethan. “Yeah, let’s go.”
As we walk out of the rink, my mind is still on him. The kiss, the morning, the practice—everything is a jumble of emotions and thoughts. I need to sort through it all, but I don’t know where to start.
Ethan is a mystery, one that I’m drawn to unravel. But I have to be careful. I’ve been burned before, and I can’t afford to let my guard down. Not again.
Yet, despite my best efforts, I can’t stop thinking about him. His touch, his kiss, his presence—they’re all imprinted on my mind, and I don’t know how to let them go.
Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe, just maybe, I want to see where this leads, even if it’s a path filled with uncertainty and risk.
Walking into the locker room after practice, I feel a mix of excitement and nerves. Lauren flanks one side of me, Jonathan Reid—the team director— the other. The players are waiting, cooling down from their session. The atmosphere is relaxed, filled with the banter and camaraderie of a team that knows each other well.
As we approach, Reid shakes hands with a few players, exchanging jokes about the need for the team to win all through the festive season. There’s an ease to his manner that I admire. He’s got that effortless charm of a man who knows his place and is comfortable in it.
Ethan stands a little apart from the group, his eyes meeting mine. I can almost hear his thoughts: What’s she doing here? His gaze is intense, and I feel a flicker of anxiety.
Reid steps forward, his voice carrying across the rink. “Alright, everyone, gather around. I’d like to introduce you to our new event planner, Holly Bennett. She’s here to help us connect with our fans during the festive season.”
I step forward, feeling the weight of their eyes on me. “Hi, everyone. I’m Holly Bennett, and as Jonathan mentioned, I’m the new event planner. We’re launching a Festive Season Outreach event designed to bring players together with fans from different walks of life.”
There’s a bit of grumbling, some players exchanging skeptical looks. I hurry to assure them. “Don’t worry, this won’t eat into too much of your personal time. Most of you won’t need to appear more than once. Only the top five players as voted by fans will be regulars.”
I glance at my notes, reading out the names. “Ryan Connors, Liam Callahan, Tyler Jenkins, Alex Mason, and Ethan Carter.”
I look up from the list, and my heart sinks at the sight of the cold anger in Ethan’s eyes. He’s furious, and it’s all directed at me. I feel a wave of discomfort, but I push through it, determined to stay professional.
Reid steps back in, clapping his hands. “Alright, folks, you heard Holly. Let’s make this a great festive season for our fans. Ryan, Liam, Tyler, Alex, Ethan—you’re our stars. Make us proud.”
The players disperse, and I feel a hand on my arm. It’s Lauren, giving me a supportive squeeze. “You did great,” she whispers.
“Thanks,” I mumble, my eyes drifting back to Ethan. He’s talking to Ryan, but his gaze flickers to me, and I can see the tension in his posture.
Lauren and I head towards the exit, but I can’t shake the feeling that I need to explain myself to Ethan. “I’ll catch up with you later, Lauren,” I say, turning back towards the rink.
“Good luck,” she calls after me, a knowing smile on her face.
I walk over to where Ethan is standing, and I take a deep breath. “Ethan, can we talk?”
He looks at me, his expression unreadable. “What do you want, Holly?”
“I just wanted to explain?—”
“Explain what?” he cuts me off. “That you’ve decided to drag me into whatever it is you’re doing and make my life even more complicated?”
“It’s not like that,” I protest. “This is important for the team, for the fans.”
“And it has to be me?” he snaps. “There are plenty of other players.”
I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “You’re one of the top players, Ethan. The fans love you. This could be good for you, too.”
He laughs, a harsh sound. “Good for me? You think I care about what the fans want?”
I flinch at his words, feeling the sting of his anger. “I’m just trying to do my job.”
“Your job,” he repeats, shaking his head. “Right. Your job. Well, mine is playing on that goddamn ice, not some mascot shit with some fans. Count me out.”
He walks out on me and for a moment, I just stand there, eyes all around watching me in the heavy dead silence. I wanted to understand him, tell him that I know what it’s like to be under pressure, to feel like the world is closing in on you.
But he doesn’t seem to want the words.
And Ethan Carter possibly doesn’t think I’m worth his time.