11. Holly
11
HOLLY
The car screeches to a halt, the tires squealing against the pavement. I look out the window, my eyes scanning the unfamiliar street. This must be Ryan's house.
It’s a sleek, modern structure with large windows glinting in the soft evening light. The clean lines of the architecture give it a sharp, almost intimidating presence.
Yeah. It’s the kind of house that belongs to someone who’s got their life together.
That used to be me, too, until everything went to shit in Los Angeles and I had to start over. I can’t help but feel a little nostalgia as I step out of the car.
Lauren looks around, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What are we doing here?”
“Ryan promised to treat us to dinner,” I explain, trying to keep my voice casual.
“Wait, dinner here?” Lauren asks, her eyes narrowing as she looks at me. “The dinner you promised for us is happening at Ryan’s house?”
I nod, already bracing myself for the protest I know is coming.
Lauren rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Holly, I thought we were going somewhere nice and quiet. You know I’m not comfortable around these guys outside of work.”
Before I can respond, Mia steps in, cutting off our impending argument. “You two can argue all you want, but I’m starving, and I’m dying for a home-cooked meal.” She strides toward the front door, her determination making both Lauren and me hurry after her.
Lauren shoots me a look that says, this is your fault, but I just shrug. We’re already here, and it’s not like we have any other plans for the night. Besides, a part of me is curious about what Ryan has in store.
Mia reaches the door first and rings the bell, her impatience evident. The door swings open almost immediately, and I’m not prepared for what I see.
Ethan stands there, wearing an apron over a casual button-down shirt. His hair is slightly mussed, and his eyes are bright with something that looks suspiciously like excitement. He’s smiling—a genuine, warm smile that catches me off guard.
“Welcome, ladies,” he says, stepping aside to let us in. “Come on in.”
I blink, trying to process the scene in front of me. “Ethan? What are you doing here?”
Before he can answer, Mia pushes past me, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re cooking? This night just got a hundred times better.”
Lauren follows her inside, giving me a look that says, you’ve been set up.
I curse under my breath, realizing I’ve been tricked. Ryan asked me to do him a favor by inviting Lauren over for dinner, promising to help me with my upcoming event in return. I didn’t suspect anything when he asked me to add Mia to the guest list. Now it’s clear that this was all part of some elaborate plan.
As I step inside, Ethan closes the door behind me. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and full of concern.
I sigh, feeling the weight of everything I’ve been trying to avoid pressing down on me. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just ... surprised, that’s all.”
Truthfully, I’ve been avoiding Ethan all week because I know how irresistible he is. Every time I’m around him, I feel my defenses crumbling, and I need time to sort out my feelings before I risk getting involved with another high-profile celebrity. But now I’m trapped, and there’s no easy way out.
Ethan gestures for me to follow him, leading me into the dining hall where Ryan and Liam are setting the table, both of them also wearing aprons. The smell of something delicious fills the air, and despite my reservations, my stomach growls in anticipation.
As soon as I step into the room, I can feel the tension. There’s an underlying current between Ethan and me that’s impossible to ignore, and I can see Ryan and Liam exchanging glances as they sense it, too.
Ethan takes a seat next to me, and before I can say anything, he leans in, his voice soft and sincere. “Holly, I’m sorry. For accusing you of meddling.”
I turn to look at him, surprised by the apology. “Ethan, it’s ... fine. You don’t have to?—”
“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “I was wrong. You’re just doing your job, and I made it difficult for you. I’m sorry.”
His words are genuine, and they touch me more than I expect. But instead of dwelling on it, I decide to shift the conversation to safer ground. “Let’s focus on the fan outreach event. We need to make sure everything is in place.”
Ryan, never one to let things get too serious, jumps in. “Yeah, let’s talk about that. What’s the theme again? Something about bringing the ice to the fans?”
Liam snorts, clearly amused. “That sounds more like a marketing ploy than an actual theme.”
I can’t help but laugh at their banter. “The idea is to make it feel like a winter wonderland, but with a Blizzards twist. We want the fans to feel like they’re part of the team, part of the magic.”
Ethan nods thoughtfully. “But how do we balance that without making it feel too commercial? We don’t want to lose the authenticity.”
I appreciate his input, even if it’s laced with his usual practicality. “That’s why we’re focusing on the personal stories, the connections. It’s not just about the game; it’s about what the team means to the community.”
Ryan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “So, we’re the faces of this winter wonderland, huh? Just how cheesy is this going to get?”
“Oh, it’s going to be cheesy,” I say with a grin. “But in the best way possible. The fans love this stuff. We just need to make sure it doesn’t cross into cringe territory.”
Liam chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely,” I reply, my tone firm. “This is about more than just the team. It’s about giving people something to believe in, especially during the holidays.”
The conversation continues, with everyone throwing around ideas, debating the finer points of the event’s theme. But beneath the surface, there’s something deeper going on, something that’s not being said. I can feel it in the way Ethan looks at me, the way his hand rests on the table, so close to mine that I can feel the warmth radiating from him.
Eventually, the discussion winds down, and Ryan stands up to clear the table. “Alright, time for dessert. Who’s in?”
“Me!” Mia chirps, already halfway to the kitchen.
Lauren and Liam follow, leaving me and Ethan alone at the table. The tension between us is almost unbearable, and I can feel my resolve weakening.
Ethan turns to me, his expression serious. “Holly, I meant what I said earlier. I’m sorry for everything.”
I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. “I know. And I’m sorry too. For ... avoiding you.”
He looks down at his hands, then back up at me, his eyes filled with something I can’t quite place. “Come home with me tonight.”
I look out the window. The night is winding down, and I’m more than ready to head home. My mind has been spinning with everything that’s happened, and I know I need some time to process it all, but I also want to spend the time with Ethan.
I’ve kinda missed him.
We step out to say our goodbyes and I ignore the obvious curious look from Lauren as I get ready to leave. But as I step outside, Ethan is there, leaning casually against his car, his expression unreadable.
“Need a ride?” he asks, his voice calm and low.
I hesitate, but there’s something in his eyes that draws me in, something that makes it impossible to say no. “Sure,” I say, forcing a smile. “But only if you promise not to get on my nerves.”
Ethan chuckles, pushing off from the car and opening the passenger door for me. “I promise. It’s just a drive.”
I slide into the seat, and he closes the door behind me before walking around to the driver’s side. As he starts the engine and pulls out of the driveway, I find myself stealing glances at him, my heart beating a little faster than it should. The way his hands grip the steering wheel, the focused look in his eyes as he navigates the dark streets—there’s something so effortlessly attractive about him that it’s almost maddening.
The silence between us is thick with unspoken words, the kind that makes you hyper-aware of every little movement, every breath. I try to keep my eyes on the road ahead, but they keep drifting back to him, to the way the dim light from the dashboard casts shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the curve of his lips.
Just when I think I might actually go crazy from the tension, Ethan’s phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, and I see the name “Cousin” flash before he declines the call. A moment later, it buzzes again. And again, he declines it.
“Everything okay?” I ask, trying to break the silence.
Ethan lets out a long breath, his grip tightening on the wheel. “Yeah. It’s just ... my cousin. He’s been calling a lot lately.”
“Is it something important?” I press, sensing that there’s more to it than he’s letting on.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he says, but his tone is clipped, almost defensive.
I nod, deciding not to push any further. But the atmosphere in the car has shifted, the air thick with something unspoken, something that feels a lot like frustration.
A few minutes later, Ethan pulls into the garage and cuts the engine. But instead of getting out, he turns to me, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
“Holly,” he begins, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. “I need to tell you something.”
I hold my breath, waiting.
“I’m attracted to you,” he says, the words falling between us like a confession. “But ... I’ve never had a serious relationship before. I don’t know how to do this.”
His honesty catches me off guard, and I feel a rush of warmth at the vulnerability in his voice. It’s not something I’m used to seeing from him, and it makes me want to reach out, to reassure him that he doesn’t have to have it all figured out.
I smile softly, leaning slightly closer. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now, Ethan. We can take things lightly, see where it goes.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “How do we do that?”
I think for a moment, then an idea strikes me. “How about we go for a stroll? Clear our heads a bit.”
Ethan hesitates for only a second before nodding. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
We step out of the car and start walking down the street, the cool night air nipping at our skin. The city is alive with the festive spirit, twinkling lights strung across every lamppost, wreaths hanging on doors, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingering in the air. It’s the kind of night that feels almost magical, like anything could happen.
As we walk, I take in the holiday decorations around us. There’s a massive Christmas tree in the center of the park we pass, its branches heavy with ornaments, garlands, and twinkling lights. The sight of it fills me with a sudden warmth, a reminder of the Christmases I used to spend with my family.
“Should we get a tree for the house?” I suggest, glancing up at him.
Ethan’s face darkens slightly, and he shakes his head. “No. I’m not really into that kind of thing.”
I pause, wondering if I’ve touched on something sensitive. Mustering up some courage, I decide to ask the question that’s been lingering in my mind since I met him. “Is it because of David?”
He stiffens at the mention of his brother, his eyes hardening as he looks away. For a moment, I think he’s not going to answer, that I’ve overstepped. But then he sighs, the tension in his shoulders softening slightly.
“I don’t really like talking about it,” he says finally, his voice low. “Especially not around this time of year.”
I nod, understanding the weight of his words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay,” he says, but there’s a finality to his tone that tells me the subject is closed.
We walk in silence for a while longer, the only sounds the crunch of our footsteps on the pavement and the distant hum of the city. As we turn back toward the house, I reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He looks down at our intertwined fingers, then back up at me, his expression softening.
When we get back to the house, I stop inside the door, turning to face him. “Goodnight, Ethan,” I say, my voice gentle, almost tentative.
But he doesn’t let me go just yet. “Holly, wait.”
I pause, my heart skipping a beat as he steps closer, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.
“I didn’t want to talk about it earlier because ... Christmas is a bad time for me,” he admits, his voice raw with emotion. “David died two years ago, right around Christmas. It’s hard to think about celebrating when it just reminds me of losing him.”
My chest tightens at the pain in his voice, and without thinking, I reach out and take his hand, pulling him toward the sofa. We sit down together, the silence heavy but comforting in its own way.
“I get it,” I say softly, squeezing his hand. “Christmas can be hard when you’ve lost someone you love.”
He nods, his eyes distant as he stares at the floor. “He was my little brother. He was always the one who made Christmas special, you know? He had this way of making everything feel ... brighter.”
I can hear the grief in his voice, the way it still clings to him, and it makes my heart ache for him. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”
For a moment, we sit in silence, the weight of his loss hanging between us. Then, in an effort to lighten the mood, I decide to share a memory of my own.
“You know, Christmas has always been special to me, too,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips. “My parents actually met at a Christmas party. My mom was standing under the mistletoe, and my dad just walked up and kissed her, right then and there. She always said it was the best Christmas gift she ever got.”
Ethan looks at me, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Your dad just kissed her, just like that?”
“Yep,” I say with a laugh. “My mom was furious at first, but my dad was so charming, she couldn’t stay mad at him. They ended up spending the whole night talking, and the rest is history.”
He smiles slightly, the tension in his face easing. “Sounds like a pretty good story.”
“It is,” I agree, my heart warming at the memory. “My mom always used to say that a kiss and love shared makes the season better.”
We lock eyes, and I can see the walls he’s built around himself start to crack, just a little. There’s a vulnerability there that he’s been hiding, a softness that he doesn’t show often. And in that moment, I realize how much I want to be the one to help him heal, to be the person who makes his world a little brighter again.
Without thinking, I lean in, my hand still holding his. “Ethan...”
He doesn’t hesitate. He closes the distance between us, his lips finding mine in a kiss that’s both tender and intense.
It feels like everything we’ve been holding back finally breaks free, and for the first time, it feels like we’re both exactly where we’re supposed to be.