Ice Breaker by Catherine Gayle Read Free Book Online Page A

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.”

 

    RAZOR AND ZEE ended up being right. I made the team.
    After I went back to my hotel room for the night, I called my family to fill them in. Then I called my billet family, the Shaws, to let them know I might not be back. Not that I fully believed it. There was still the nine-game rule. Jim and Scotty Thomas, the Storm’s head coach, had both told me they intended to keep me for the full season, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath. They could keep me in Portland for now, let me play nine games, and then ultimately make the decision to send me back to my major-junior team. My contract would be put on hold if they decided to do that.
    Mr. and Mrs. Shaw might have been even more excited than my own parents had been. I’d seen a lot more of them over the last two years, since I’d been in juniors, than I had my own family. I promised I’d try not to let them down.
    I was still on the phone with them when Razor started banging down my door.
    “Open up. I’m fucking starving.” He’d made the final cut, too. We were going to be rookies together.
    I got up off the bed and opened the door, apologizing to Mrs. Shaw for having to cut off our conversation so soon. “I’ll call you once I’m settled so we can talk more,” I promised her as we hung up.
    Razor gave me a look that said I was a pussy and barreled through the door. He straddled the desk chair facing the wrong direction. “Let’s go eat. We need to celebrate.”
    “What kind of celebration did you have in mind?” I asked, sitting on the foot of the bed. I tossed my phone on the mattress. I’d learned early on to be leery of his ideas. They usually were the sort that Levi, the oldest of my younger brothers, would go for, not the sort I thought were a good plan. I liked Razor, and I loved my brother, but that didn’t mean I needed to follow their leads.
    He shrugged in an offhanded move. “I can get us into a strip club. There’s this one on Powell where I know one of the bouncers.”
    “Don’t you have to be twenty-one to get into those?” We weren’t exactly in Canada, where it was legal for us to drink, and it wasn’t like Razor was all that much older than me. He was still only twenty.
    Razor gave me a devious look, and he winked. “Not if you know the right people.”
    “I don’t know. Not sure it’s such a hot idea.”
    “Afraid you’ll blush too fucking much, huh?”
    “Why do you have