Page 30 of A Christmas For Holly

“Please,” I managed, not trusting my voice to say more.

Lucas shook his head and offered Connor a smile.

The kid nodded and walked off, and I exhaled. I glanced up at Lucas, whose steady gaze was locked on me as though he was trying to figure out what was happening in my head.

I dragged a hand through my hair, leaning back in my seat, and tried to shake off the weight of everything.

“Now what?” he asked.

Chapter 12

Lucas

Holly staredat me as if he didn’t know how to answer the question.

Connor returned, standing by our table, his eyes flicking between Holly and the coffee pot in his hands like he couldn’t quite believe who was here. He was just a kid, maybe seventeen, and his wide brown eyes were filled with stars.

He was a hockey fanatic and played with Kai’s local Diamonds team. I’d seen him around the shop, sometimes with his mom, spending far too much time in front of the section with Harriers merchandise, his fingers brushing the signed pucks and framed photos of Holly and the rest of the team.

And now he was face-to-face with his idol, holding a coffee pot as though it might help him impress the great Paul “Holly” Hollister.

“You, uh… you need menus?” Connor asked, his voice cracking as his gaze darted to Holly again.

Holly barely glanced at him, his focus locked on his coffee cup. “No, thanks,” he muttered, his voice low and distant.

Connor blinked, then stared at me, unsure what to do with the brush-off. I gave him a small smile, trying to reassure him.

“Thanks, Connor. We’re good for now,” I said.

He nodded, but his eyes lingered on Holly for another beat, full of admiration and awe. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head, the excitement of being this close to a hockey legend mixing with the reality that Holly wasn’t acting like said legend.

“Big fan, Mr. Hollister,” Connor blurted out, his words tumbling over themselves. “You’re, uh… you’re the reason I started playing defense. For the Diamonds. Just like you.”

Holly’s hand froze on his mug, his eyes flicking up to Connor for the briefest moment. I thought he might say something for a second, but then he nodded, his expression unreadable.

“Thank you,” he managed before staring back at his coffee.

Connor’s face fell, but he covered it with a nervous smile, muttering something about returning to work before shuffling off.

I watched him go, my chest tightening with sympathy for Connor and something else I couldn’t quite say. Holly hadn’t noticed the kid’s awe, the way Connor had lit up by being near him.

“Holly, for God’s sake,” I warned.

He didn’t look up, his fingers tightening around the mug. And for the first time, I wondered if he knew how much of a shadow he’d let himself become. He stared into the dark liquid as if it held the answers to something he couldn’t face. I shook my head, and our silence was thick and heavy.

He was nothing like the confident hockey star from the wedding. His hair was unkempt, sticking up in uneven waves as though he’d been running his hands through it too often. The dark circles under his eyes stood out starkly against his pale skin, and his shoulders slumped forward as though they couldn’t bear the weight he carried. Still clutching the mug, his hands shook just enough to make the coffee ripple. He was exhausted, shaky, and so full of regret it was almost tangible.

“Holly!”

“What?”

“Connor’s a huge fan,” I murmured, watching the kid retreat to the counter, his shoulders slumped. “Maybe you could give him a smile.”

Holly snorted, shaking his head. “A fan of mine? A fan of a loser who messed up a team?”

I frowned, leaning forward, my voice firm. “A Stanley Cup champion. A captain.”

“Not anymore,” he muttered, his gaze locked on the coffee.

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