Novel & Cerita Best Hockey Romance

But Hockey is a beast of a game, and I f*ckin love it. But after my marriage, I stopped watching and even checking live scores. I stopped everything that would remind me of Cicero, deleting him everywhere around me. … We were already seated in a row right across the Islanders' bench before the game started. Papa is seated comfortably with Lugo, Cicero's best friend. They are having a deep conversation that they didn't want me to listen to. So, I focus my attention on the ice, biting down on my lips. Papa is wearing a jersey with Cicero's name and even offered me one before we left the house, but I turned him down.

Sebastian said. Damian almost smiled. "I'm a hockey player. Romance isn't my strong suit." "Your strong suit is checking people into boards." "And scoring goals." "And looking good in a jersey." "And—" Damian stopped. He looked at Sebastian. At the man who had made a blood oath on his father's grave. At the man who had taught an eight-year-old how to stand up. At the man who had held him in an abandoned rink while he fell apart. "I love you," Damian said. "I want to marry you because I love you. The hockey is just a bonus."

He didn't hurt me, but the silent command in his touch was absolute. Don't move, his grip told me. I cut my eyes toward him, my chest heaving as I stared at his profile. Roman wasn't looking at me. He was looking straight ahead, casually listening to Zane drone on about a missed penalty in the second period. His face was a mask of absolute, relaxed calm. He looked like the arrogant, unbothered hockey star the media loved. But beneath the table, his hand was alive.

“Word travels fast around here. Especially when the hockey captain suddenly decides to play house with the girl who used to be invisible.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. I hated how easily my body betrayed me. Around us, a few students slowed their steps, pretending not to eavesdrop while clearly hanging on every word. Sienna stepped closer, her voice dropping to something almost intimate. “Look, I’m going to do you a favor because I almost feel bad for you. Jax doesn’t do relationships. He does distractions. And right now? You’re the shiny new distraction.” I swallowed, the taste of metal on my tongue. “That’s not really your business.”

She’s mine, and I’m going to hold on to her like my life depends on it. By evening, I’m on the rink, gearing up for the big showdown against the Full Moon Pack. The air is electric, the crowd roaring. My teammates are hyped, but my head’s a fucking mess. “You good, man?” Theo asks, stretching his arms. “Yeah, you’ve been MIA all day,” Damon adds. “Yeah,” I say, smirking. “I was with my girlfriend. Priorities, you know?” Theo waves his hockey stick at me, laughing. “You’re seriously whipped, dude.”

” A pair of strong hands caught my arms before I could bounce backward. “Are you lost, love?” I looked up. He was tall—the kind of height that came with playing center, built broad through the shoulders and chest in the way that hockey did to people if they’d stuck with it long enough. His dark hair pushed back from his forehead like it had been pushed back many times tonight, with a finely carved jawline. I registered his hands on my arms—they were light but there. And I knew that face, not from here. I knew it from two seasons ago, across the ice—game five of the regional semifinals. Harlow versus Westbrook. I’d watched that face score three goals in the third period like he was personally

Donna High’s pride and menace, led by none other than my worst enemy “Maxton Carter, the self proclaimed king of ice and arrogance. They barged in like they owned the ice. Typical. “Yo! Clear the rink, figure Barbie’s done posing!” A familiar voice said. Of course it was him, Maxton. Messy dark hair, eyes full of superiority, and that stupid grin that could curdle milk. Chris groaned beside me. “I wish they could get the hockey players another rink…” Maxton skated past with a lazy smirk. “Didn’t know figure skating was just a warm-up for the real athletes.”

"Look, I get it. New guy, hockey captain, whatever. But I'm not interested in charity cases." Charity case. The words echoed in my head, each repetition cutting deeper. "I was trying to read," I managed to say, my voice shaking. "In the history section? Right." He leans closer, and I can smell his cologne, expensive, confident. Everything I'm not. "Let me guess. You're one of those girls who thinks if she hangs around long enough, maybe the popular guy will notice her?" "No, I..." "Well, congratulations. I noticed. And here's some free advice find someone in your own league."

She grins and he nods, going back to Elion. My chest hurts seeing them together again but at least, Cerise can't tell what's going on. He defended me at least, a warm bliss cascades over me, soothing the chest burns I'm having. Our eyes lock from time to time, even while playing with our partners. When I turn and he's gone, I lose interest to continue here. Only then do I remember I have hockey practice with my buddies on campus. Thursdays hockey rehearsals which are very compulsory. Three hours to go.

I can still picture the look on everyone's faces when he told us. And Owen playing in the NHL on the same team as Kohl, the New York Rangers! It's like a dream watching them both skate together. Ari and Athena are the wild cards, living together in their little bubble. Ari's buried in blueprints, her architect dreams soaring, while Athena? Well, that's a mystery wrapped in an enigma. And then there's Owen and Ari—what a whirlwind that was. They broke things off quietly, neither of them willing to revisit what was, and it hangs in the air like an unsaid word.