My Athlete Neighbor (Neighborhood Hotties #2)

Chapter Fourteen

O nce Allison's hands wouldn't stop shaking as she made her way to the arena's family room. The hallways echoed with celebration—she could hear Dmitri's voice carrying above the chaos, probably choreographing some kind of victory ballet. But her focus narrowed to the message on her phone:

Kane: I love you.

She pushed open the door to find Kane already waiting, still in his game gear minus his skates. His hair was damp with sweat, his face flushed from victory, and his eyes made her heart stumble in her chest.

“I love you too,” she said breathlessly.

He whirled her around. “Let’s get out of here.”

They managed to escape the arena despite Dmitri's attempts to teach everyone a victory dance, Mrs. Peterson's offerings of celebration scarves, and Oliver's livestream documentation.

The drive to their building was charged with anticipation, but there was tenderness too in the way Kane kept finding reasons to touch her—fingers linked over the center console, thumb brushing her knee at red lights, soft glances that said more than words.

Kane barely got his apartment door closed before Allison was kissing him again, all the tension and doubt of the past weeks dissolving into heat and need. His hands found her hips, lifting her against the wall with easy strength, but there was reverence in his touch now, like he was memorizing every moment.

"What do you say we get married? Let me prove every day that this isn't about luck or superstition or anything except how much I—."

She kissed him before he could finish, pouring everything she felt into it—all the fear and doubt transformed into trust and certainty. His groan vibrated through her as he carried her toward the bedroom, somehow managing not to trip over his own hockey gear scattered around. But there was no rush now, just the slow burn of finding their way home.

"Is that a yes?" He pulled back just enough to ask, his hands gentle as they traced patterns on her skin. His eyes searched hers, still holding that mix of hope and vulnerability that made her heart ache.

"Yes." She helped him with the buttons of his dress shirt, taking time to appreciate each newly revealed inch. "Although we might need a bigger place. Your hockey stuff is a hazard."

His smile was brilliant, but his eyes were suspiciously bright. "Already looking at houses. With libraries."

"And a ballet studio for Dmitri?" She pressed kisses along his jaw, feeling how his breath caught.

"And a statistical analysis room for Marcus. And a professional kitchen for Liam. And—" His voice broke slightly. "And a home. A real home, with you."

She drew back to meet his gaze, letting him see everything she felt. "We're already home. Wherever we are, as long as we're together."

Something broke open in his expression, and then he was kissing her like she was more precious than any trophy, luckier than any superstition. They took their time, learning each other anew without the weight of doubt between them. Every touch was a promise, every kiss a declaration, every shared breath a future being written.

Later, much later, their phones lit up simultaneously with the team's celebrations, but they were lost in their own world of whispered confessions and gentle touches. Kane traced the curve of her spine like he was mapping constellations, while Allison's fingers found the Chill logo tattooed over his heart.

Lucky puck or not, they'd scored the best goal of all.

Love.