Page 17 of My Athlete Neighbor

Kane fiddled with his water glass, turning it in slow circles. "So."

"So." Allison studied her menu without really seeing it. "Interesting press conference."

He winced. "About that—"

"Can I start you off with drinks?" their server interrupted.

They ordered—wine for her, craft beer for him—and fell back into uncomfortable silence once they were alone.

"Listen," Kane started again, then stopped. He sighed heavily. "I know the whole puck thing is weird. And I hate putting pressure on you. It's just..." He trailed off, staring into his water glass like it held answers.

"Just what?"

"I'm not..." He took a breath. "I'm not sure I'm cut out to be captain."

The vulnerability in his voice made her chest ache. "Kane..."

"The guys look to me for leadership, you know? And we were losing. Game after game. I could see it wearing on everyone. Dmitri stopped doing his silly goal celebrations. Oliver barely posted anymore. Even Coach started looking worried." He smiled without humor. "I couldn’t score a goal to save my life. Do you know what it's like to feel responsible for crushing your whole team's spirit?"

Their drinks arrived. Kane took a long pull of his beer before continuing.

"Then you showed up with that puck, and suddenly we won a game, and I scored three goals. The guys are happy again. Dmitri's back to doing ice skating and ballet during practice. And I know—I know it's just a superstition. But if it gives them confidence, helps them believe..." He met her eyes. "Is that really such a bad thing?"

Allison swirled her wine, considering. She thought about the press conference, how Kane had tried to deflect attention from the puck to his teammates' hard work. How he'd looked uncomfortable with the questions but endured them anyway.

"It's not about the puck for you at all, is it?" she realized. "It's about your team."

His smile was small but genuine. "They're my family. I'd do anything for them." He hesitated. "Including asking too much of a beautiful librarian who probably thinks we're all crazy."

The comment startled a laugh out of her. "Only mostly crazy."

"Hey now."

"I mean, Dmitri does figure skating with hockey skates."

"True." Kane's eyes crinkled. "Though after this morning in the storage room, I'm not sure we can judge anyone's behavior."

Heat flooded her cheeks at the memory of the equipment room. "That was..."

"Hot?" His voice dropped lower. "Because I've been thinking about it all day."

The server's return broke the moment. They ordered food, but the earlier tension had shifted into something else entirely.

"So," Kane said once they were alone again. "About Friday's game..."

Allison took a fortifying sip of wine. "You want me to bring the puck."

"Only if you're comfortable with it." But hope blazed in his eyes.

She thought about his earlier vulnerability, his dedication to his team. About how he'd looked leading the press conference—confident on the surface but carrying so much weight on his shoulders.

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Really." She smiled at his obvious delight. "But you owe me."

His grin turned wicked. "I can think of a few ways to repay you. Starting with a proper end to this morning's interrupted moment."

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