What Happens When He Pucked The Wrong Side?

Bryson POV Blackridge University was already a nightmare before I dumped hot coffee all over Julian Hayes. He's tall, built, with this perfect smirk that makes me want to punch him. Captain of the hockey team and the biggest asshole I've ever met. He destroyed me in front of everyone. Made sure I knew exactly where I stood. But then I joined the hockey team to make my mom happy, and suddenly everything changed. I could actually play. And Julian? He started looking at me like he wanted to destroy me in a whole different way. Now every practice feels like war. Every time we're alone in the locker room, I can barely breathe. I hate him. I want him. And I'm pretty sure he knows it. Julian's POV I run Blackridge University. Team captain, golden boy, everyone wants to be me or be with me. Then some transfer kid crashes into me and ruins my shirt. Bryson Miller. Smart mouth, cheap clothes, and eyes that look at me like he's not impressed. I should've crushed him and moved on. But the little shit joined my hockey team and turned out to be good. Really good. Now I can't get him out of my head. Every practice, every fight we have feels like something else entirely. Something I don't want to think about. I thought that was complicated enough. Then I walk into my house tonight and find Bryson unpacking boxes in my living room..

My mother-in-law and I were traveling together. We'd just checked into the Solenne Hotel in Rivera City and decided to hit the pool. Then this woman—dressed like money and attitude—pinched her nose like we stank. "This is a luxury hotel. How did you people even get in? Sneak in just for the pool? Ugh, I need a test after this." Buzzkill. I snapped, "It's a hotel pool. Guests swim. If that's a problem, go build your own." Her face twisted. "Excuse me? Do you even know who I am? My husband owns this place. We always stay in the top suite. So get out. You reek of broke. You're contaminating the water." Georgina and I traded a look. Ice cold. This was her son's hotel. My husband's. Since when did he come with a second wife?

“Admit it,” He growls, slamming my back against the wall, his body caging me in. “You like it when I piss you off.” My breath catches as our bodies collide, heat and hatred sparking between us. I hate Dorian Hayes with every fibre of my being...so why can't I pull away? For Noah Carter, hockey isn’t just a game–it’s an escape. The golden boy captain with a killer smile and a secret he can’t afford to slip, Noah’s carefully crafted lie is falling apart with every practice and every time he locks eyes with HIM. HIM. Dorian Hayes is fire on the ice with only one mission--Make it to the NHL. But there’s one person he never expected to see when he got in Bridgewater to play for the Artic-Blades. Noah Fucking Carter. The one person he hates with everything inside him. Cue in a plan to destroy everything Noah stands for. But every time their bodies collide on the ice, Dorian can’t deny the pull. It’s infuriating, maddening…and addictive. He doesn’t want to want Noah, but when their rivalry shifts from Icy stares to scalding touches, Dorian is forced to confront a truth he’s spent years skating away from: sometimes, the person you hate the most is the only one who truly sees you.

He’s my brother’s best friend. My father’s star player. And the one man I should never want. When my brother’s hockey team takes me in for a mandatory winter internship during the holiday season, I promised myself I’d stay invisible. Keep my head down, finish my internship, and steer clear of trouble. But trouble has a name—and it’s Liam Kane. He’s all sharp edges, wicked smirks, and muscles that make rational thoughts melt like snowflakes when the sun is out. A professional hockey player with a reputation for breaking hearts and rules alike. When one stolen kiss turns into nights tangled in his sheets, I know I’ve crossed the line. Because if my brother finds out—or worse, my dad, the team’s coach-Liam’s career and my future would both go up in flames. The rules were simple. No dating the players. No falling for him. Too bad I’m already pucked.

"You still think you’re the main character in your own story, don’t you, Mercer? That’s cute. You were written out the moment you let me inside you. You don’t exist without me now. And you love it." Kade Mercer an unstoppable force on the ice, destined for the NHL. One reckless mistake, one desperate night, and it was all over. The trap was set long before he even stepped onto the ice. Nikolai Volkov, mafia kingpin and team owner, orchestrated it all—the seduction, the scandal, the blackmail. Now, Kade isn’t just owned. He’s trapped. He still plays. He still wins. But only when they let him. Throw a game. Obey. Or lose everything. But the real hell doesn’t come from Nikolai. It comes from his son, Rook Volkov. Golden boy of a rival team. Hockey’s rising star. Kade’s worst enemy. He’s spent years fighting Kade, hating him, wanting him. Now? He owns him. Rook doesn’t destroy Kade’s career—he controls it. His flights. His bank accounts. His entire life. And when Kade resists? Rook makes him pay. First, he makes him beg. Then, he makes him like it. Every punishment, every violation, every humiliating submission forces Kade deeper into the world Rook has carved out for him. A world where the line between rivalry and ownership has been erased. A world where Kade can fight all he wants—but he’ll never escape. Because Rook isn’t keeping him prisoner.

My hand wraps around his wrist, and I try to break free of his hold. It’s no use, so I just dig my fingers into the tendons there and glare at him. “What the hell’s your problem?” His forearm presses against my sternum as he crowds me more, ice-blue mismatched eyes full of unchecked rage. “You’re my fucking problem. Hockey’s little golden boy, coming out here with your good game tonight, acting like you own the sport.” He’s trying to get under my skin, but it won’t work. Unlike him, I don’t let my temper control me, and I definitely don’t toss hands at the drop of a hat whenever I can’t rein in my feelings. Which is why he doesn’t get the reaction he was hoping for, and I snort out a laugh. “Seriously? It was a compliment. One I meant, so just take it and move the fuck on.” “Move the fuck on?”