Page 30 of My Athlete Neighbor

Jesse's smile faltered. Vanessa's perfect eyebrows drew together in confusion. But Allison didn't care. She was too busy falling in love with the way Kane was looking at her—like she was magic all on her own, no puck required.

The party swirled around them, full of victory and friendship and possibilities. And afterwards, when she and Kane went back to her apartment, they made their own kind of magic.

One that had nothing to do with luck at all.

Chapter Twelve

Allison's evening routine didn't usually include a panic attack, but finding her grandfather's Olympic puck missing from its display case seemed like a reasonable excuse to start one.

"No, no, no..." She ran her fingers along the empty velvet lining, as if the puck might magically materialize under her touch. The glass case sat innocently on her bookshelf, exactly where it had been this morning. Except now it was empty, and her carefully ordered world was tilting on its axis.

She knew she had put it back in the case before bed last night. Her phone was in her hand before she'd consciously decided to call Kane. It rang twice before he answered, "Hey gorgeous. What’s up?" She could hear sounds of the gym in the background.

"The puck is gone."

A pause, then the noise of clanging machines was muted. "What do you mean, gone?"

"I mean gone, Kane. As in not here. As in missing from its case. As in—" She sucked in a breath that was definitely not the start of another panic attack. "Someone broke into my apartment while I was at work today."

"I'll be right there." More rustling, a muffled curse. "Don't touch anything. And don't—"

"Tell anyone, I know." She paced her apartment, checking to see if anything else had been taken. "There wasn’t any sign of break in. The door was locked like it normally is.”

"We'll figure it out." Kane's voice was steady, grounding. "Just breathe, okay? I'm coming over."

He arrived moments later, still in his workout clothes—grey sweats and a worn Chill practice shirt. His hair was sticking up on one side, and Allison had to physically stop herself from reaching up to smooth it.

"Show me," he said.

She led him to the display case, watching as he examined it with surprising forensic care. "I remember you putting it there before we went to bed last night. Are you sure we didn’t knock it on the floor?"

"I don’t think so.” But she got down on her hands and knees and looked under the bed anyway just in case.

“Anything?” Kane asked.

“Nope, just a dire need to vacuum under here.”

"We should call the police.”

"No," Allison grabbed his phone. "Not yet. I don’t want people to find out the lucky puck is missing."

“I’m more concerned that someone broke into your place than that puck.”

She loved him for saying that. Then she sagged back on the bed. Holy shit. She loved him.

“Hey,” he said, bending down to lift her to her feet. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Yeah, it was definitely love. She hugged him hard. “Kane,” she choked.

“You’re going to stay with me until we figure this out.”

She wasn’t opposed to that idea. “I still don’t want to involve the cops yet. It could be a misunderstanding. The team's playing so well. I can't be responsible for ruining their confidence right before playoffs."

"Okay." Kane ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "I appreciate that. But once the season is over, we need to put a stop to this nonsense.”

“Agreed.”

“Okay. Let's think this through then. Who has access to your apartment?"

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