Ice Breaker
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the work of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Ice Breaker
Copyright © 2015 by Catherine Gayle
Cover Design by Kim Killion, The Killion Group
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.
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When Jamie met Katie…it might have been love at first blush.
Jamie Babcock couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he’d landed a spot on the Portland Storm at age eighteen. Shouldn’t he be on his way back to his junior team, not being dragged out to strip clubs to celebrate and trying to figure out where he was going to live? There was no time to come to terms with his new reality, either, before he was swarmed by a gaggle of giggling girls at the team’s preseason Ice Breaker.
But then he bumped into
her
. Literally bumped into her, no less, and all he could do was blush and stammer and hope she didn’t think he was a freaking idiot, because he sure felt like one. She blushed and stammered, too. And then she walked away before he could even ask for her name.
Love at first blush? A crazy thought, for sure, but so was the idea of playing in the NHL at only eighteen. Crazy or not, it looked like they were both about to happen.
ICE BREAKER is a short story prequel to the
Portland Storm
series. Other books in the series are BREAKAWAY, ON THE FLY, TAKING A SHOT, LIGHT THE LAMP, DELAY OF GAME, DOUBLE MAJOR, IN THE ZONE, HOLIDAY HAT TRICK, COMEBACK, and DROPPING GLOVES. Look for HOME ICE on August 13, 2015, and LOSING AN EDGE on February 19.
Want to join in the
Portland Storm
discussion? Join the Facebook
Portland Storm Reader Group
.
If you enjoy this series and want to try more of the same, look for the spin-off
Tulsa Thunderbirds
series, which begins with BURY THE HATCHET on July 9. SMOKE SIGNALS will follow on October 22, 2015, and GHOST DANCE will be available on May 5, 2016.
Look for the
Tulsa Thunderbirds
Facebook reader group after BURY THE HATCHET releases.
“WHAT THE FUCK
are you so nervous about, Babs?” Razor asked me. My name was Jamie Babcock, but all the guys called me Babs. Getting a nickname was just part of the deal in hockey, like a rite of passage. He tossed a towel at me from across the locker room, a goofy grin on his face. “Shit, you made the team. You’re fucking crazy if you think they’re sending you back to juniors.”
“Fuck you,” I said, trying to laugh it off. He was a lot better at laughing things off than I was, though. Maybe because he was a couple of years older than me. But I wasn’t so sure he was right. In fact, there was a part of me that hoped he was wrong. I wasn’t sure I was ready.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on the cause of my nerves. I just knew that I was such a mess I was about to fucking piss myself, sitting here in my stall at the Portland Storm’s practice facility. Training camp was at an end. Ray “Razor” Chambers, along with three other rookies and me, were all waiting for word of our fate. The rest of the guys here already knew they’d made the team, but the five of us were fighting for two roster spots, one for defense and the other for a forward.
Seeing as how I was only eighteen and had just been drafted a couple of months ago, it should be Alex Petersen or Jared Tucker who got the final spot with the forwards. They’d already paid their dues, at least more than I had. But everyone thought it was going to be me.
The general manager, Jim Sutter, had already called JT back for a meeting with the coaches, but the rest of us were waiting for word while we cleaned up after practice. I put my head down and went about my business, trying to stop the nerves that were jumping around in my stomach so much I thought I might puke.
“Everybody listen up,” Zee said, and I whipped my head around so I could see him. He was in the stall right next to mine. He’d grabbed me on the first day of camp and steered me over there, telling me he was going to look out for me, make sure I knew what was up.
His name was really Eric Zellinger. He was the team’s captain and had been for a few years. The guy seemed to have everything together. Part of me wondered if I would ever be as cool and calm as he was. Probably not. Some guys were just born like that, I figured, and he was one of them.
“We’ve got our annual Ice Breaker tomorrow,” he said once all the talk in the room died down. “If you’re still on the team as of tomorrow morning, you are required to be there. Slacks or khakis with your jersey on—no suits, but no jeans, either. Don’t be late.”
I figured I didn’t have to worry about that, since Jim and the coaches were about to cut me, but I filed it away just in case.
JT came back in the room a minute later. The other rookies and I all looked up, unable to hide our curiosity.
“I’m heading up to Seattle, boys,” he said. “Jim wants to see Petey next.”
My heart started pounding harder since it was down to just me and him.
Told you
, Razor mouthed at me. I put my head down again, put on socks and shoes, and tried not to think about whatever was coming.
Zee rested his arms on his knees and turned his head toward me. “Have any plans on where you’ll live this season?”
He made it sound like it was a given that I’d be with the big club, too. I’d never thought he was one to lay it on thick before, but I reserved the right to change my opinion on that matter.
“My billet family is expecting me back,” I said, doing my best to keep my tone even. No doubt I was blushing, though. I always did. Couldn’t help it. It fucking drove me crazy. The guys were always giving me shit over it, none more than Razor. He had more than enough shit to spare since he—unlike Zee—was full of it.
“Is that so?” The way he said it made my stomach flip. “Well, if for some reason you end up needing somewhere to stay here in Portland, let me know. I’ve got a separate apartment in my house. Bedroom and bathroom of your own. Shared living areas. You’d have plenty of privacy, but you wouldn’t be all alone. We could carpool in, and I could help you figure things out. The first year’s always the hardest.”
I looked at him like he was crazy, because he definitely was, but Petey came back before I could say so. He walked right over to me and slapped me on the back of my shoulder. “Congratulations, Babs.”
So maybe they were all crazy.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m heading up to Seattle along with JT. Jim wants to see you now so he can tell you the big news.”
“I made the team?” I nearly fell off the bench in shock. He had to be jerking my leg. That was just crazy talk. Had to be. Eighteen-year-olds didn’t end up playing in the NHL very often, and the idea that I would… I couldn’t process it.
“Yeah, you made the team,” Petey said. “Jim says I’ll probably be the first call-up when there’s a need, but you’re sticking around.”
“Go on,” Zee said. He nudged his head toward the exit. “Don’t keep Jim waiting. And think about staying at my place.”
“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” I said, stumbling on my way out the door and nearly running headfirst into David Weber, one of the older guys on the team.
He narrowed his eyes at me, giving me a glare that had me jumping out of his way and hurrying along before he could bite my head off for some unknown slight or another.
I hadn’t gotten out of earshot when Razor said, “He’s killing me with those fucking blushes and dimples.”
