Page 9 of My Athlete Neighbor

"We're just neighbors." The words came out automatically, even as her mind flashed to their kiss in his kitchen. The way his hands had tangled in her hair, how solid his chest had felt against hers, the little groan he'd made when—

"You’ve stayed overnight at his place," Jenny said with a knowing smirk.

“That was the night we lost power last month. I was new in the building.”

But no one wanted to hear the truth.

Mrs. Peterson gasped in delight. "I knew it. Harold, didn't I tell you?" She called to her husband, who was shuffling through his mail nearby. "The puck brought them together. Just like magic."

"He didn’t know about the puck then.” Allison made another attempt to escape, but now Mr. Collins from 5C had joined the growing crowd.

"Speaking of the puck," he said, adjusting his Chill ballcap. I've got a bet riding on the boys. One more win and it’ll be a streak. You’re going to the game right?"

"I'll think about it." Allison finally managed to edge toward the elevator, only to find it occupied by the entire Martinez family, all wearing Chill gear.

Mrs. Martinez beamed. "We're heading to the arena store. The children want Kane’s jersey. He’s such a nice boy, always helping with groceries. You two make a beautiful couple."

Allison took the stairs.

By the time she reached her floor, she was out of breath and wondering if she could convince the library to let her work remotely. Forever. She fumbled with her keys, almost dropping them when a familiar voice spoke behind her.

"Rough crowd down there?"

Kane leaned against his doorframe, fresh from practice by the look of his damp hair and team workout clothes. His eyes sparkled with amusement.

"This is your fault," she accused, finally getting her door open. "You had to go and score three goals and get everyone excited."

"Actually, I think it's your fault." He followed her into her apartment uninvited, but she found she didn't mind. "You're the one who brought the lucky puck."

"It's not lucky." She set her bags down with more force than necessary. "You're just playing better. The whole team is."

"Maybe." He moved closer, and her heart did that stupid flutter thing it had started doing around him. "But you have to admit, the timing is interesting. We were on a fifteen-game losing streak. You show up with the puck, and suddenly we won."

"Correlation doesn't equal causation." She backed up until she hit the kitchen counter, but Kane kept advancing.

"Big words, librarian." His hands settled on either side of her, caging her in. "But you can't deny there's something magical happening."

"The only magic happening is how fast this building has turned into a hockey fan club." But she was smiling despite herself, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "Mrs. Peterson bought a scarf."

"I saw." He grinned. "She's been sitting in the lobby knitting good luck charms for the whole team. I've got a pair of socks from her."

"That's ridiculous."

"Hockey players are superstitious." He shrugged, the movement bringing him even closer. "Some guys won't shave during playoffs. Others have to tape their sticks exactly the same way before every game."

"And you?" She shouldn't ask. Shouldn't encourage this. Shouldn't be hyperaware of how good he smelled..

"I believe in taking advantage of lucky chances." His voice dropped lower, and one hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Like moving trucks getting canceled during snowstorms."

"That wasn't lucky. That was inconvenient and exhausting." But she leaned into his touch despite her words.

"Brought you to my door, didn't it?"

She wanted to argue, but then he was kissing her, and all thoughts of luck and superstition fled her mind. His lips were soft but insistent, and she found herself rising on her tiptoes to get closer, her hands fisting in his shirt. He made that sound again, the one from his kitchen, a mix between a groan and a growl that shot straight through her.

A loud bang from outside made them jump apart. Kane looked as dazed as she felt, his pupils dilated and his breathing uneven. The cool granite countertop pressed against Allison's back as she caught her breath, Kane's warmth still lingering on her lips. His piercing blue eyes held her gaze, a mix of desire and uncertainty swirling in their depths. The faint scent of his cologne teased her senses.

Allison's fingers brushed her tingling lips. "Kane, I..."

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