Page 57 of My Lucky Charm

He’s not wrong. I’ve managed to avoid the press since the debacle on the road, but I should’ve known that wouldn’t last forever.

She looks at me, then back to Coach. “Not at all. I’d love to come to the game.”

“Beverly will have a pass for you and a guest,” he says. “But after the game, your guest will have to make themselves scarce, because that’s when we need you the most.”

“Sounds good,” she says, then, to Dallas, “Maybe Poppy will come.”

“I think she’s already planning on it,” he muses. “You two can sit together.”

But then, her face falls. “Oh wait. She’ll be sitting with the wives and girlfriends, and I’m—” she stops. “Uh. Never mind. It’ll be fine. I’ll make it work.”

That was weird.

“Good. Burke, you have some time?” the coach asks. “I want to run something by you before practice.”

Dallas nods and follows him out, leaving me sitting here, pedaling a bike that goes nowhere and facing Eloise, who looks a little lost.

She takes a step toward me and hugs the stack she’s holding to her chest. “I know you don’t want me at the game.”

I didn’t say that. Did I say that?

“No, I . . .” I trail off then shut down. Good grief, why is this so hard? Just say what you mean, you idiot.

“No, I get it. Annoying assistant now in your space,” she waves one hand about the room as she says it. “But honestly? I’m really excited about it.” She smiles.

“But you hate hockey,” I say.

“But I get to see you play,” she says nonchalantly. Then, with a flirty shrug, “Maybe I’ll finally figure out why you’re such a big deal.”

If my face registers emotion at that comment, it isn’t intentional. But whatever expression I’m now wearing has her frowning at me.

“You look stressed,” she says.

“I’m fine.” I start pedaling faster.

She looks down at my feet.

“I’m fine,” I repeat.

And then she watches me. A little too intently. “It’s a lot of pressure, isn’t it?”

I stare at the wall behind her.

“I mean, you don’t have to answer. I know it is. I mean, your face is going to be on a banner in the arena. That’s a big deal.” She starts fussing with the envelopes. “But you know, I was thinking—I read an article about you.”

My eyes find hers. “Why?”

A shrug. “You’re a mystery.” I have to look away. She’s really cute right now.

“In the article, you talk about how when you found hockey, it was like magic. Like, all of a sudden, you figured out why you were here.”

I let the bike coast.

“I said that?”

“Yep,” she says. “And then you said that everything about it felt right, from the day you picked up your first stick.”

It was true. But a lot has changed since then. Since my dad discovered my natural ability.

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