Flying High

10. Summer Breeze

(Breeze’s POV)

I had been sitting in front of my computer screen for two hours; I was editing the practice film and trying to piece together several questions for the live steam that would be shot and posted to the Flyer’s website.

A knock at my door brought me out of my deep thoughts. Sighing, I slipped off my glasses and walked to the door. Opening the door reveled the scruffy redheaded captain and, what must be his French-Canadian sidekick.

“So are you two a package deal?” a small smirk pulls at the side of my mouth.
Claude reciprocates, “Only if you want us to be.”

“What can I do for you gentlemen?” I ask the two in front of me.

Max spoke up, “Just seeing if you wanted some company. What are you working on?”
I open the door wider, “Come on in and I’ll show you.”

The two men walked in and looked around; the room was your standard hotel – one queen sized bed, side tables, T.V. stand – the only difference was the lap top, IPad, two cameras, and one palm cam. My phone and IPod were charging on the night stand.

Max let out a whistle, “Wow. I didn’t realize taking pictures took so many devices.”

I let out a laugh, “I’m not just taking pictures, Maxime. I’m also in charge of videography on the road,” the two men give me a confused look, “I’ll use the small video camera to capture live interactions – stuff your fans wouldn’t normally see but would give their right arm too.”

“So I need to tell the boys to be on their best behavior all the time?” Claude questioned.

“Not at all, “I say to the worried captain, “I want you all to be your normal selves. Interact with each other as if I wasn’t there.”

I watch the tense look fade as his phone rings, “I have to take this,” Claude holds the device up, “Good night Breeze – Max.”

“Night Claude,” I call after his retreating figure.
“I should go too,” Max says when the door closes.

“You’ll need all the sleep you can get, huh Superstar?” I try to say seriously but the smile breaks across my face before I can stop it.

Max gently takes my hand and kisses it, “bonne nuit Brise d'été Jones.” (Good night Summer Breeze Jones)

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(Max’s POV)

I walk back into my shared room but Steve isn’t there. He and several others went out for diner. I sink onto my bed and just close my eyes when my phone rings.

“Hello?”
“How’s my favorite Flyer?” Nicole’s voice comes across the line like lightning – I’m instantly wide awake.

“Mon Fille! How are you?”
“I’m good Max. Getting ready to get ready to go out to eat with Johnny. What’s new?”

I can hear her bustling around what I assume is her apartment.

“Resting. We play the Canucks tomorrow,” I say – I hear a loud bang, followed by a string of curse words – “Are you okay Nic?”

“I’m fine! The bar stool attacked me but I took it out,” Nicole giggles and I laugh too.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Nicole. Hey, when do we play your team again?” my quick change in subject throws her off for a moment.

“Umm…..” I can hear her heals clicking, “Not until after new year’s it looks like. Why?”
“I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Maxime Talbot! Do you have a secret girlfriend that you haven’t told me about? And don’t you roll your eyes at me!”

I stop mid motion, “You know it’s really creepy that you knew I was doing that.”
Nicole laughs again, “It’s not creepy – I just know you. Now stop trying to change the subject….Who is the mystery woman?”

“I’m not seeing anyone,” I say.
“But……”

“BUT, there is someone whom I’m interested in – I just don’t know how she feels you know?”
“Max, don’t doubt yourself. You are a catch and any half intelligent woman would be considering herself lucky to have you in her life.”

“I know but….”

“No buts!” Nicole cuts me off, “trust yourself Maxime. She’ll be a lucky woman to call you her own.”
“Thanks, Nic,” the words come out as a sigh – one I didn’t realize I had been holding in.

“Your welcome. I have to run Talbo. Talk to you soon?”
“Yes, vous parler bientôt Mon Cher ami.” (Talk to you soon my dear friend.)

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(Regular POV)

The buzzer sounded, signaling the third goal of the night. The Flyers led the Canucks 3-0. Steve was on fire, stopping every puck that flew his way. Max had two points – an assist on Jakub’s goal and a goal of his own in the second. The clock counted down as the Flyer’s defended off one last rush by the home team.

As expected, the lock room was jumping after the game. Breeze, having never been to a game, didn’t know what to expect as she made her way down. As the team photographer, she had glass seats, but being so close to the action of her first game, she nearly forgot to actually do her job.

One by one the guys slowly filed out of the visitors lockers and onto the bus. Breeze was taking shots of the guys as they exited – several guys giving funny faces – they were all thrilled over the win and it showed in what would be colorful photographs for the website.

Max, Claude, and Steve were the last three out. Max swept his new found friend into a giant hug and swung her around as the other two watched and laughed at their fellow players childlike antics.

“Breeze! We won!” Max couldn’t contain his excitement.
Breeze was laughing, “Maxime put me down!”

The French man did as he was told but kept an arm over the smaller woman’s shoulders as they walked to the bus.

“So how was your first NHL game?” Max asked; he was genuinely curious to see if the girl from Tennessee had enjoyed herself.

“It was great Max. I had a blast,” Breeze smiled as the small group took their seats.
Steve leaned over the top of the seat, “Did you get any good photos?”

Breeze thanked the stars that it was dark – she could feel the blood rush to her cheeks.

“Well…..Actually, I was so caught up in most of the game that I forgot,” Breeze sheepishly admitted.
Steve, Claude, Jakub, and Max laughed at her honesty.

“Don’t worry, mon ami,” Claude said, “We will give you a pass on your first game and take it as a complement.”

“Yeah,” Stave interjected, “You were so enraptured in my brilliance that you needed the whole game to recover; so of course you couldn’t do your job.”

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(Breeze’s POV)

We were back at the hotel after the game, the team was staying the night before moving to the next city – a luxury that didn’t happen often according to Coach.

I was flicking through the few game stills that I had managed to capture when I came across one of Max during warmups. He was skating between teammates, clearly in another world. He had a puck on the end of his stick, his back to me. The lights in the arena at the time had been lowered outside of the glass so it appeared as if there was a spotlight on him. The photo sent a wave of Déjà vu crashing over me.

A knock at the door made me jump – I hadn’t realized how close to the screen I had moved.

“Max?” I questioned as I opened the door.

“Hello,” his handsome face smiled down at me, “I was wondering if maybe you would like some company?”

I returned a sly smile, “Steve talking to his girl again?”
Max laughed as he walked in, “That would imply that he has game to get a girl.”

I sat on the end of my bed, “So mean! Steve is adorable Max.”
“Puppies are adorable. Steve is…well….,” Max looked around the room before whispering, “A goalie.”

The fit of giggles erupted before I could hold them down. It took me several minutes before I was able to stop laughing.

“What’s wrong with goalies?” I ask; swiping tears from the corners of my eyes.

Max chuckled, “Goalies are their own breed is all. It takes a very…special… someone to be a goalie. What are you working on?” Max changes the subject so quickly that it takes me a moment before I realize he is now occupying my bench chair.

“I was going over some of the film from the game,” I say. I stand and walk over next to where Max is sitting.

“May I?” Max questions and gestures to the screen. I nod and watch as he clicks through the file, stopping periodically to study different photos.

“You are very good, Breeze. I see why the organization hired you,” Max stops on the photo of himself before moving on to the next.

“Oh wow,” Max’s exclamation was small – I would have missed it if I hadn’t been so close, “Is that me?”

I can feel my cheeks burn as I take in the photo. It’s a photo that was originally far off – Max had been near the face of circle watching the puck with such intensity that you would have thought it was a life or death situation; but, for a split second he had looked up. His intense gaze was staring directly at my camera lens. I managed to capture the fleeting moment before his gaze locked back on the puck.

“Yeah, it is,” I say quietly, “It’s not the original – I zoomed in quite a bit.”
Max looked at me, “Why?”

I feel my blush deepen and I step away from his side, “there is an intensity in your eyes – one that can’t be felt unless you are closer to the source.”

I hear Max move, he places his hand on my arm, “I like the professional answer Breeze. Now the truth.”

I look up at his blue irises, “Your eyes are beautiful. The shades filter from a playful blue – to the ocean storm that I can see now. They go from soft to baring an intensity that I’ve never experiences before. They captivate me.”

Max smiles, those eyes softening as my heart melts. He gently brushes a lock of hair away, running his calloused hand across my cheek.

“That is something we have in common than; you have captivated my every fiber since the day you spilt coffee on my shirt and offered to buy a new one,” if I could have blushed any harder than I would have; Max softly tilts my head so that I am gazing fully at his features.

He slowly lowers his mouth, nearly brushing my lips, but he pauses, “If you want me to leave; you need to say so now.”

I run my hands up his muscular chest, he never flinches.

“Kiss me.”