The Ice-Breaker Ch. 01

This is usually the spot where I mention who the story is dedicated to, or who requested the story featuring whichever player and team. However, this time, this story is all for me. He's my favorite player on my favorite team and that's all there is to it. ;)

One funny point to share first... I started writing this story early in January and there's one game I mention the actual score of (Flames vs. Hurricanes on Feb. 3). I wrote the score and outcome before they ever played the game. Then they go and win, 4-1. How crazy is that? LOL, I just had to share with everyone.

Oh, and one more thing... this is a romantic story involving someone who happens to play hockey. If you're not interested in either topic - you know who you are - then don't read any further. Wouldn't want to injure your eyes with another sub-genre romance.

As always, Happy Reading!
M. ;)

***

Easy... easy. Hold your speed. OK... now!

Shiff, shiff... scrape... crunch... Boom!!

The crowd leapt to its feet as Alex Perdue soared into the Edmonton Oilers forward, sandwiching him between Alex's shoulder and the boards. The glass rocked and groaned above them. Alex caught a glimpse of fiery red jerseys beyond the glass before spinning and skating after the puck. The Oiler slumped to the ground, stunned but he gamely got to his feet again. Instead of joining the scramble for the puck in the Flames zone, the Oiler headed for his bench.

Alex noted the absence of the forward with barely a glance, focusing his attention on clearing the zone. It was a frantic penalty kill and his heart was beating double time.

Here it comes, he thought as the frozen disc of rubber shot out from under his teammates' legs.

With long strides, Alex crossed the empty space. He swung his stick and lifted the puck into the air, sending it flying across the ice to the Oilers' zone. As he skated for the bench, he glanced up at the big screen, grinning when he saw the last three seconds of the Oilers' power play count down. Several of his teammates jumped over the boards, and the Flames were back to full strength.

Alex watched the action on ice as he reached for the water bottle, dousing his neck and then swallowing generous mouthfuls before setting it down again.

"Good PK, Alex," one of his teammates said from his right.

Leaning his head forward, Alex grinned at Max Tournet. Alex didn't get a lot of time on penalty kills; that honor went to the more experienced defensemen. Over the course of the season, Coach had started throwing him in there more often. He must be doing something right and he wasn't about to sit it out.

Alex had always been a competitor, up for any challenge.

There was another five minutes of play left in the second period and the Flames and Oilers were tied with a goal apiece. The pace was furious, as it always was with the Battle of Alberta. The fans were more intense during the Flames-Oilers games and half the time, the crowd was almost evenly split between Edmonton and Calgary fans. It certainly made things more interesting.

By the time the teams headed into their locker rooms for the second intermission, Alex and the rest of the team felt confident of their success.

"Perdy!" one of the assistant coaches hollered as the team filtered into their locker room.

Alex jerked his head up and nodded when the other man waved him over. He hobbled over on his skates, towering over the coach. At 6'2" without his skates, Alex became downright monstrous when he suited up for games. "What's up?" he asked.

"You're up for the 'Favorite Flame' tomorrow night before the game," the assistant coach told him. "Make sure you come in early enough."

The Favorite Flame contest was run by one of the local newspapers and all season long, each player had had their turn as the grand prize, so to speak, of the draw. Each winner of the weekly contest got tickets to a game, as well as a meet-and-greet with a player, their favorite player. Apparently this week was Alex's turn. He flushed as the coach told him the deal, even as he nodded along.

He'd never been the kind of guy to flourish in the limelight. He was more of a behind the scenes player, leaving his flashier teammates to soak up most of the attention. Perhaps that was why he made such a good defenseman; he hung back and stepped up to make a hit or set up a play only when it was required.

"I can be here early, no problem," Alex assured the assistant coach before returning to his spot on the benches.

"All right, everyone listen up!" the head coach barked as he walked into the room.

The intermission flew by and soon they were all heading back out to the ice. The last period was as fast and physical as the first two and in the end, the Flames prevailed.

Alex was exhausted by the time he got home. He collapsed on the couch and flicked on his TV after making himself comfortable. Of course, this late at night, there wasn't much on but he didn't usually last long, even after such a tense game.

Some of the guys had suggested going out for drinks after the win but with another game the very next night, it didn't seem like a smart idea. Alex declined the invitation, knowing that even though they'd beaten their provincial rivals, they had a long way to go before making the playoffs. It was still early February and all the talk was about trades. After trades, all the talk would turn to the playoffs and the final push for positioning.

With a sigh, Alex rolled over and shut off the TV. He took himself to bed and fell asleep, dreaming of crunching hits and shaking plexiglass.

***

"Why the hell do you think I'd want to go?" Kaitlyn Walker asked her cousin, and best friend, Joel.

"Because you love me and want to see a live game?" Joel replied.

They were on opposite sides of the bar inside the restaurant lounge he bartended at. He was working and she'd come in for a drink after her horrific shift at the bookstore across the parking lot.

"I'm not Jules," Kaitlyn replied with an eye roll, referring to their friend, Julia. Julia was working on the night in question, otherwise Kaitlyn was more than certain their friend would be suiting up in her red jersey before Joel had even finished asking. She sipped her drink and brushed a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. "I'm the one who doesn't care about hockey." Her sharp tone drew a few curious looks - and one hostile one - from the patrons nearby.

"And you call yourself a Canadian," Joel grumbled, tucking the nozzle for soda water back under the counter as he finished mixing a drink. He turned and moved a few steps away to deposit the finished drink on the counter for the waitress waiting there. He came back a minute later and gave Kaitlyn a searching look.

"What?" she demanded.

"You're working too much," he told her.

"I'm the manager," Kaitlyn replied. "If I don't do it, no one else will."

It was Joel's turn to roll his eyes. He leaned his hands on the bar and smiled at his cousin. "So take a break. Come to the game with me tomorrow night and meet one of the Flames."

Kaitlyn huffed out an annoyed sigh and glared at Joel. "Which Flame?" As if that will make a difference, she added silently. Sure, she was Canadian, born and raised in the prairies where hockey was just a part of everyday life. She'd watched her brothers and cousins play hockey for years and had even skated a frozen pond a time or two herself. As an adult, she no longer had any real desire to watch, listen or even discuss hockey. There was no specific point in her life when she'd lost interest. It was more like she'd grown out of it and no longer understood the obsession.

"It's Alex Perdue," Joel told her.

She wrinkled her nose and gave him a blank stare. "Who the hell is Alex Perdue?"

"He's a defenseman," Joel explained. "Third line."

"And that's supposed to mean something to me?"

"God, stop being such a crotchety bitch and just say you'll come to the game with me," Joel said with a heavy sigh.

"Oh wow, when you talk sweet like that, it makes me want to agree," Kaitlyn snapped back, in no mood for Joel's humor.

"I'm sorry for calling you a bitch," Joel apologized. "Even though you are," he added under his breath.

"I'm sorry you're an asshole, but what can you do?" Kaitlyn replied, waving a hand dismissively in his direction. Neither of them meant what they said; name calling was a part of their rapport and nothing so little as weak insults would ever come between them. They were family, after all.

Joel laughed and grabbed her hand, giving her fingers a squeeze. "Come out with me. I'll buy you a couple drinks, you can get an autograph and then I'll even drive you home."

Sighing, Kaitlyn looked into her cousin's brown eyes and gave up. He was obviously determined to take her to this game, whether she wanted to or not. "Fine, but I want an ice cream, too."

"All right!" Joel exclaimed and yanked her close to kiss her noisily on the cheek. "You'll have a great time, wait and see!"

"I don't know about that," Kaitlyn replied, laughing as Joel kissed her again. "If I have ice cream and a Molson, I'll be on the right track."

"I'll make sure you can't see straight by the end of the night."

She laughed and shook her head, sitting back on her stool. "Don't get carried away."

Joel just winked at her and moved away to fill a few more orders, leaving Kaitlyn alone at the bar. She propped her chin in her hand and stared mindlessly at the television screens hanging over the bar. Sportscentre was on and the highlights from last night's games were playing. Kaitlyn watched without really paying attention.

Now that Joel had convinced her to go out tomorrow night, she was already planning her workload for game day and the day following. The book store was short-handed and she'd been covering a lot of the vacant shifts. Mostly, she felt like she was helping and other days, like today, she just felt like a chicken running around with its head cut off.

Maybe it will be good to go to the game and have a night off, she thought and absentmindedly sipped her drink.

She stayed at the bar for another half hour, until Joel got busy. Before she left, she promised to call him the next day so they could meet up before the game.

At home, alone in her apartment, she shuffled around in her slippers, putting in a load of laundry and washing the dishes from her breakfast. By the time she settled down on her couch with a book, she could barely keep her eyes open.

Joel expects me to stay awake until midnight tomorrow? she thought with a jaw-cracking yawn.

She gave the page in front of her another try and gave up in five minutes. Yawning again, she tossed the book aside and went to bed.

***

The following night she pasted a smile on her face as she walked beside Joel from the train station to the Saddledome. The crowd was thick around them; it was half an hour before the puck dropped. Kaitlyn kept her thoughts to herself, putting on a happy face for her cousin. She could tell how excited he was to be there. He was spouting facts and statistics and making a prediction for the outcome of the game.

Kaitlyn couldn't bring herself to ruin his mood, however much she wished she was somewhere else. She'd had another harrowing day at the bookstore and just wanted to have a hot bubble bath. However, she'd made a promise and Joel was her best friend. She'd at least make an effort.

"When are you supposed to meet the player?" she asked as they moved along the walkway. The night air was crisp and Kaitlyn shivered, pulling the collar of her jacket up higher around her neck.

"Uh, now?" Joel replied, glancing at his watch.

"Joel!" Kaitlyn laughed and shoved her shoulder into his. "You're late for the big meeting? They might pass you over for someone who's on time."

Joel shook his head with a grin. "They won't do that."

Kaitlyn just rolled her eyes and picked up her pace. "Why didn't you say something? We could have left right away." She'd come over to the bar to meet Joel after her shift was done and he'd served her dinner before they left. Now that she knew they were supposed to have arrived early, she felt bad for causing them to be late.

"It's all right," Joel replied and slung his arm over her shoulders. She was shorter than him by several inches, being five-foot-three to his five-foot-ten. He used the arm around her to propel her forward a bit faster, making her laugh as she scrambled to keep up. "You needed to eat. I know you hadn't eaten since the morning."

"What? You have a video camera in my apartment or something? You're a spy now?"

"No. I just know you. You work too hard."

"I do what needs to be done," she replied. She always did. Like dropping out of college when money had become an issue for her parents, or sacrificing her European vacation to stay home with her mother as she went through chemotherapy. It was never something she thought about, it wasn't a conscious decision each time to take on the extra burden. She just did it.

"Well, tonight you don't need to do anything, Kait," Joel told her and gave her an extra squeeze before reaching for the door to the Saddledome. He held it open as she walked through. "I'll fetch your beer and ice cream all night."

Rolling her eyes, Kaitlyn took the ticket from him and they made their way to the inner arena. The crowd inside was thicker, milling in every direction. The concession lines were several bodies deep and workers shouted over the din, selling programs and 50/50 tickets. Kaitlyn stuck her hand in Joel's as he weaved his way through the crowd.

"Do you even know where we have to go?" Kaitlyn asked when they paused near a restroom.

"The lady on the phone told me to find customer service and then someone would escort me to the locker room," Joel replied, looking around.

"Customer service was way back where we first came in," Kaitlyn said with a laugh. "Before they took our tickets."

Joel glanced down at her. "I thought that was just the box office."

Shrugging, Kaitlyn looked around as well. She'd only been to the Saddledome a handful of times and never for a Flames game. Eventually they found their way around and located someone in customer service. Sure enough, an usher appeared to take them below the main concourse.

"You'll have about ten minutes with Mr. Perdue," the usher, an older, bald man, explained as he led them down a set of stairs. "If you'd been here earlier, you could have had more time."

Joel smiled sheepishly back at him and Kaitlyn smothered her laughter with one hand. Joel poked her teasingly in the ribs as they reached the lower level.

Down below all the action of concourse, it was quieter, but no less busy. Arena employees and team staff moved everywhere. Voices rose and orders were shouted back and forth. Kaitlyn stuck close to Joel's side as the usher continued to lead them through the hall.

"Here we are," the usher announced, coming to a stop. "Here are your guests, Alex."

Kaitlyn looked up - and up, and up - into the friendly, smiling face of a hockey player in full gear. "Oh wow," she breathed and blushed when his dark eyes flashed to her face.

"Hi, I'm Alex Perdue," the player said, extending one hand towards them.

"I'm Joel Sanderson," Joel said and shook Alex's hand. "This is my cousin, Kaitlyn Walker."

"Pleased to meet you," Alex said and held his hand towards Kaitlyn.

Timidly, Kaitlyn shook his hand, amazed at how it encompassed her fingers. She couldn't get over how big he was. Sure, he was wearing his skates and his full gear but he was positively intimidating.

"I'm supposed to ask why I'm your favorite Flame," Alex said to Joel, a wide smile spreading across his face, dimples appearing in each cheek.

"Oh, that's embarrassing," Joel replied with a laugh. "Do I have to?"

"I'd like to hear it," Alex told him. "As long as it's not something like, 'he's no one else's favorite so this way I get free tickets.'"

Joel laughed and shook his head. "That's not it, trust me."

As the two men chatted, Kaitlyn took the opportunity to study Alex. She guessed that he must be over six feet - without his skates - and without his gear, he was looked still a big guy. Kaitlyn knew enough to know that hockey players were generally large guys; except, of course, for Theo Fleury. He'd been an exception, the only one Kaitlyn could recall from her teenage years in Alberta. Alex had a friendly, open smile and those dimples were definitely appealing. His hair was dark and messed up from wearing a helmet during the warm-up skate. His eyes were a grey-green hazel color, surrounded by dark, thick lashes that most women would kill for. When he spoke, it was with a deep voice and a thick Newfoundland accent that Kaitlyn found incredibly appealing.

His eyes came back to her face after a few minutes and he grinned. "Are you a Flames fan, too?"

Kaitlyn opened her mouth to respond but her cousin beat her to it.

"She's a closet Flames fan," Joel replied.

Kaitlyn narrowed her eyes at Joel, who smirked back at her. Alex chuckled and nodded.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm not offended. If we start playing the way we want to play, then you can come out."

Kaitlyn flushed at his choice of words. "Joel is joking. I've never been a huge fan of any team, not since I was a kid."

"Who did you cheer for as a kid?"

"The Jets," she replied and smiled.

Alex's eyes widened. He was clearly surprised by her response. "Wow. You must have been born there, then."

"How'd you guess?"

"Only natives of Winnipeg still talk about the Jets," Alex replied. "Don't tell me that you cheer for Phoenix now?"

Kaitlyn laughed and shook her head. "I refuse to cheer for a team in a city that doesn't even have naturally occurring ice."

"Calgary has its own troubles producing ice sometimes," Alex commented and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I can't believe how warm it was in January. I think most frozen ponds ended up melting halfway through the month."

"I think so, too," Kaitlyn agreed. It had been an unusually warm winter so far, with temperatures above freezing for weeks at a time. It made it difficult for community associations to maintain their outdoor rinks.

"So you're going to cheer for the Flames tonight, right?" Alex asked, his dimples appearing again.

Kaitlyn couldn't help but smile back at him. He was so friendly, not at all the arrogant, flashy athlete she'd assumed they all were. "I'll try. You going to give me something to cheer about?" Wait a second, she thought, feeling heat suffuse her face. Am I flirting?

"I'll damn sure try," Alex replied and drew himself up to his full height, towering over her and Joel.

"Then I guess I will cheer for you," she replied. You, she repeated silently.

"Perdy!" someone called from behind them.

Alex glanced over to see one of the assistant coaches waving at him. "Oh, I guess I'd better get back to the team."

"Thanks for doing this, man," Joel said, shaking his hand again.

"No problem," Alex replied, shaking his head. "It's always nice to know there are some real fans out there." As he said this, he glanced at Kaitlyn and winked.

She laughed and shook his hand, this time taking an extra moment to appreciate how his palm warmed against hers.

"I'll do my best, Kaitlyn, to give you something to cheer for." Alex said, his accent clipping the first syllable of her name. She found she liked the way her name sounded coming from his mouth.

"I'll be watching," she replied with a grin.

He gave her fingers one more squeeze before letting her hand go. With a grin and a wave, he ambled along the rubber carpet, disappearing into the locker room a minute later. Joel and Kaitlyn watched him go before turning to follow the usher up to the concourse.