Page 29 of My Athlete Neighbor

"This is the last time," Allison announced, sliding into her seat. "I'm retiring the puck after today."

Pauline's thumbs froze mid-text. "What? No. You can't. We're one win away from clinching the division for the first time in franchise history."

Allison's phone buzzed as Pauline's message hit the group chat. The responses were immediate:

Mrs. Peterson:NO!! My lucky hats need the puck's energy! I'll knit you an entire winter wardrobe!

Mr. Chen:It’s bad luck not to see it through to the end of the season.

Jenny:OMG NO!! We need playoff luck!

Martinez Family:Abuela says she'll teach you her secret empanada recipe! Don't take away the magic!

That last one almost had her reconsidering.

"I don't want to be the puck girl anymore," Allison explained, silencing her phone. "I want to be Kane's girlfriend. Just that. No luck, no superstitions, no pressure."

Pauline's expression softened. "You really care about him, don't you?"

Enough to stop letting Jesse's ghost control my happiness,she thought. The admission felt like freedom. "Kane's different. What we have is real, with or without lucky pucks."

The first two periods were a blur of fast hockey and faster scoring. The Chill led 3-1 at intermission, Kane with two assists and the team looking sharp. Allison was just thinking how perfect everything was when the announcement came.

"Please welcome NHL rookie Jesse Matthews, who'll be demonstrating shooting techniques with our pee-wee hockey program."

The bottom dropped out of Allison's stomach. Jesse skated out in Boston's navy and gold, carrying himself like he owned the ice. She hadn't known he'd be here. Hadn't prepared herself. She hoped one of the six-year-olds speared him when he wasn’t looking.

Movement near Boston’s bench caught her eye. Marcus was leaning close to a woman with perfectly styled dark hair and expensive clothes. Vanessa. The social media manager who'dstolen Jesse's heart—and Allison's self-esteem—with a few well-timed posts and strategic camera angles.

Vanessa looked up, scanning the crowd. Their eyes met.

Allison's hand closed around the puck in her purse. Two years ago, this moment would have destroyed her. Would have sent her running from another arena, another city, another chance at happiness.

Not anymore.

She pulled out the puck, held it up so Vanessa could see, and pressed a deliberate kiss to its surface. Let them think it was for luck. She knew the truth—it was goodbye to the past, to insecurity, to letting other people's choices define her story. To heck with it. She was going to bring the puck to all the Chill’s games. In fact, she just might donate it to the team. She’d have to ask her grandfather first, though.

Shove that up your Instagram, Vanessa. #bitch.

The Chill dominated the final period. Kane was everywhere, setting up plays, creating chances, leading his team with the confidence of a captain who believed in something bigger than luck. When the final horn sounded on their 6-1 victory, Allison cheered with pure joy, no weight of superstition holding her back.

Kane's apartment was already full of celebrating teammates and neighbors when they arrived. Mrs. Peterson had made lucky knitted hats for everyone. Mr. Chen was leading a heated debate about the best viewing spots in the arena for maximum luck. Oliver was filming everything for his channel.

"Hey." Kane pulled her into a quiet corner of his kitchen. "You okay? That couldn't have been easy, seeing them."

"Actually," She smiled up at him.. "I'm perfect. You're not Jesse. I'm not who I was then. And this—" she gestured between them, "is so much better than luck."

His answering kiss tasted like victory and promise and forever.

Until a familiar voice cut through the party noise.

"Well, well. If it isn't Michael Warrant's granddaughter herself."

They turned to find Jesse and Vanessa in the doorway, Marcus hovering awkwardly behind them. Jesse's smile was razor-sharp. "Heard you've been sharing your grandfather's legacy. Any chance you'd spread some of that luck around? For old times' sake?"

Kane tensed beside her, but Allison just smiled. She'd already let go of the past. The puck was in her purse, but her future was right here, holding her hand.

"Sorry, that’s Charm City Chill business," she said, not sorry at all. "But I hear Mrs. Peterson knits excellent lucky hats. You should ask her about her rates."

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