17. Ethan
17
ETHAN
There’s always a certain energy in the locker room before a big game, but tonight’s a whole new level of buzzing .
It’s thick, electric, like the air right before a storm hits and you just know the arena’s packed; walls practically shaking with the kind of energy that only comes with a rivalry this deep. Reddington Ice are our fierce rivals– think Hatfield and McCoys, but with sticks, skates, and a puck. This kind of tension makes the skin prickle and the heart thud a little harder. And tonight? It’s palpable
Coach Andrew’s pacing like a caged tiger, eyes flashing, and he looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel from sheer adrenaline.
"Alright, boys, listen up!" Coach’s voice booms over the chatter, cutting through the noise like a slapshot. “This team? They think they’ve got us beat before we even hit the ice. They think we’re gonna roll over just because they’ve had a couple of lucky games this season. But we’re the Blizzards . We own this rink. And tonight, we show them why.”
A collective growl rises from the team, fists clenching, sticks tapping against the floor. There’s no need for a long speech. We know the drill. This is war, and we’ve been here a thousand times before.
Ryan, next to me, elbows my ribs with a smirk. “You ready to make these guys regret getting out of bed this morning?”
I don’t answer. There’s no need. The look I give him says it all— Let’s do this .
As we step out onto the ice, the roar of the crowd hits like a wave. It’s deafening, vibrating in the bones. The rival team skates out, too, already posturing like they own the place, but they don’t. Not tonight.
Holly’s up there somewhere, watching. That thought alone sends a jolt of energy through my veins. She promised something special tonight, and hell, I plan on earning it.
The puck drops, and it’s on. Fast and brutal, just the way we like it. Every pass is a test, every check a chance to show these guys exactly who they’re dealing with. There’s no room for hesitation, no time for second guesses. Just instincts and ice.
First period’s a battle of inches. Both teams are on fire, matching each other hit for hit, goal for goal. By the time the buzzer sounds, it’s 1-1, and we skate off the ice, sweaty and panting, but focused. There’s no panic. Not from me, anyway.
Back in the locker room, Ryan flops down next to me, towel draped around his neck, eyebrow raised. “Why the hell are you smiling? We’re almost trailing, man.”
I shrug, smirking. “Because I know we’re going to win.”
He gives me a look, somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “Alright, who are you and what have you done with Ethan Carter? You never smile.”
“What can I say?” I lean back, a grin tugging at my lips. “I’ve got good reasons.”
He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile there, too. “Must be one hell of a reason.”
Coach barks out more instructions, reminding us to play smart, keep our heads, and get back out there swinging. The locker room hums with determination as the second period looms, and every part of me feels alive, ready. The usual nerves? Gone. I’ve got this. We’ve got this.
Back on the ice, something shifts. I can feel it, like a surge of momentum that’s building under our feet, and I’m in the zone. Passes zip past me, but I’m already ahead of them, skating faster than I have in weeks. My stick connects with the puck like it’s second nature, and before I even realize it, I’ve got a breakaway.
“ Ethan! ” Ryan’s voice is sharp, calling from behind, but I’m already gone.
The goalie’s eyes widen as I approach, but there’s no stopping what’s coming. The puck slides off my stick with a satisfying snap, and just like that, it’s in the net.
2-1. The crowd explodes, and I can feel their energy surging through me. But I’m not done. Not by a long shot.
The second period is a blur of speed and noise. We’re everywhere at once—passing, shooting, checking—and the other team can barely keep up. Every time they think they’ve got a handle on the game we slip through their fingers.
Another pass comes my way, and without thinking, I send it straight to Liam, who fires it into the net without hesitation. 3-1.
The crowd is on their feet now, and I can’t help but glance up at the stands, searching for Holly’s face. She’s up there somewhere, watching, and that thought alone makes everything click. She’s the reason for this fire, for this confidence I haven’t felt in forever.
By the end of the period, we’re in control, and the other team looks like they’ve run out of steam. The buzzer sounds, and we skate off the ice, high-fiving each other like we’ve already won. But there’s still one more period to go, and I’ve never been more ready.
I spot Holly in the stands, and for a second, the world narrows down to just her. She’s smiling—hell, she’s glowing . For a second, I think about blowing her a kiss, but that might be too much, even for me. Instead, I settle for a quick wave, grinning like an idiot.
The crowd goes nuts. I can hear them roaring behind me, but all I see is Holly.
“Who the hell are you waving at?” Ryan appears next to me, his eyes narrowed in mock suspicion.
I shrug, still grinning. “Just doing what the team’s asked me to do all these years. Showing some personality.”
Ryan shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Dude, you’re acting weird. Like, really weird.”
“Maybe I’ve just got something good going on,” I say, winking at him before heading toward the locker room.
Liam catches me on the way in, a towel slung over his shoulder. “You’re, like, unreasonably happy for someone who just got his face smashed into the boards five minutes ago.”
I flash him a grin. “Just riding the high, man.”
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. “Sure. If you say so.”
The second I’m showered and dressed after the game is finished, I’m out of the locker room, practically sprinting toward the parking lot. Holly’s waiting for me, and there’s no way I’m letting anyone else get in the way of whatever she’s got planned for tonight.
Holly’s already sitting in the car when I arrive in the garage at the back exit, glad to be undetected. I slide into the passenger seat, and as soon as I’m buckled in, I lean over, pulling her in for a kiss. I hold her tight like it’s been days instead of hours since we last touched.
I never knew sneaking into the passenger seat of my lover’s car after a game could feel this exciting. It just fits. She’s glowing— literally glowing, like the happiness is radiating off her. I can’t help it.
She pulls back, breathless, but smirking. “I promised you a surprise, remember?”
“I thought the surprise was this ,” I murmur, leaning in again, but she pushes me back with a laugh.
“Nope. There’s more. You up for it?”
“Always.” I grin, starting the engine. “What’s the plan?”
She crosses her arms, giving me a look that’s pure sass. “You’ll see. But first, we need to make a stop.”
We drive for a bit, winding through the city, the lights of Chicago twinkling like Christmas ornaments. She’s watching me, I can feel it. The way her eyes linger on my face, like she’s studying every detail, every shadow. It’s intense.
We pull up to a street corner that’s decked out in lights. Christmas lights. And not just any lights— over-the-top Christmas lights. You know, the kind that make you think the entire neighborhood's competing for the Griswold family title. Holly practically bounces in her seat as she parks the car.
“Okay, what’s this?” I ask, glancing around at the festive chaos.
She grins, hopping out of the car before I even have a chance to open my door. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
I follow her, slightly wary but mostly intrigued. She grabs my hand, and just like that, we’re walking through what looks like a scene from every Hallmark movie ever made. There are hot chocolate stands, kids running around, couples ice-skating in a little rink that’s been set up in the middle of the block.
And then I see it. A massive Christmas tree in the center of the square, decorated to the nines. Holly stops in front of it, turning to face me with a small, hopeful smile.
“I know you’re not big on Christmas,” she says, her voice soft. “But I thought maybe this would be nice. Something different.”
It’s not just nice. It’s perfect . And yeah, maybe Christmas isn’t my thing—hasn’t been since David passed—but standing here, with her, under the glow of a thousand twinkling lights? It feels ... right .
Holly’s watching me closely, like she’s waiting for some kind of reaction, and I realize I haven’t said anything. So, I do the only thing that feels right. I pull her in, pressing my forehead to hers.
“You always know what I need,” I whisper, brushing my lips against hers.
She smiles, her eyes sparkling. “Guess I’m just good like that.”
We stand there for a while, just taking it all in. The lights, the soft hum of Christmas music playing in the background, the warmth of her pressed against me. For the first time in a long time, the holiday season doesn’t feel heavy . It feels light. Almost magical.
Holly’s the first to pull away, her eyes dancing with excitement. “There’s more.”
“More?” I raise an eyebrow. “You really went all out, huh?”
“Trust me, you’ll like this.” She takes my hand again, leading me toward the ice-skating rink.
Oh, no . No way.
“Holly,” I start, already backing up a step. “You know I can’t?—”
She cuts me off with a grin, holding up two pairs of skates. “Yes, you can. And you will.”
I groan, but there’s no way I’m saying no to that face. “Fine. But if I fall, you’re paying for my medical bills.”
She laughs, pulling me toward the rink. “Deal.”
Getting on the ice feels weird—like, I’m used to skating, obviously, but this is different. No puck, no pressure, just gliding. Holly’s beside me, holding my hand, laughing as she stumbles a little, and it’s nice. Really nice.
We skate around for a bit, falling into an easy rhythm. Every once in a while, she’ll squeeze my hand, or lean her head against my shoulder, and it’s like this whole world fades away, leaving just us.
After a while, we leave the rink and head back to the car. Holly’s humming some Christmas tune, and I’m just ... content. Which, honestly, is weird . But good-weird.
As we drive back, she starts telling me about her family Christmases—the big gatherings, the food, the laughter. It’s a world so different from mine, and yet, I can’t help but feel a little envious. She talks again about how her parents met at a Christmas party, kissed under the mistletoe, and fell in love. It’s cheesy, but kind of perfect.
I glance over at her, and she’s got this dreamy look on her face, like she’s lost in the memory. And for the first time, I realize just how much I want that. Not the mistletoe part, necessarily, but the connection. The warmth. The love.
Holly must sense my thoughts, because she turns to me with a soft smile. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice quiet. “I’m good. Just thinking.”
“About?”
I shrug, trying to play it off. “About how you’re making me like Christmas.”
She laughs, a soft, musical sound that makes my chest ache in the best way. “Well, that’s a Christmas miracle if I’ve ever heard one.”
When we pull up to the house, Holly turns to me, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Wanna go inside and finish what we started earlier?”
A slow grin spreads across my face. “Now that sounds like the best Christmas present.”
We head inside, the warmth of the house wrapping around us like a blanket. And for the first time in years, I feel like maybe—just maybe —this Christmas won’t be so bad after all.