Blackmailed Into Dating My Ex’s Hockey Rival Novels & Stories

I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the lingering feeling of violation. As I stood there, my emotions in turmoil, I couldn't help but reach for my phone. It was a reflexive action, a desperate attempt to escape the harsh reality that awaited me. With a trembling hand, I unlocked the device and opened the news app. The headlines were ablaze with news of Timothy Hayes, and my heart sank as I read the words that confirmed my worst fears. The media was buzzing with rumors and speculation, all pointing to a budding relationship between the hockey star and his new lover.

I said to Tom, who clearly had a lot on his mind. As soon as we arrived home, he grabbed my wrist just as I was about to sit down and spun me towards him. "What was all that? Why didn't you tell me about it?" he shouted. "Tyler is my ex. He was blackmailing me with a nude picture that I have no memory of, and I had tried to get my hands on his phone in order to delete it. Is that okay?" I questioned, my voice firm even though I hated speaking to him in that manner.

He’d been single for two straight seasons while girls literally threw themselves at him after games. “What about him?” “He told me last week he’s sick of the puck bunnies. He wants a fake girlfriend to get them off his back till the playoffs are over. Someone who won’t catch feelings, someone who hates hockey players; his words.” She poked my shoulder. “That’s you, babe.” I stared at her. “You’re insane.” “I’m a genius. You get revenge on Caleb by dating his teammate; fake dating, whatever; and Rowan gets peace. Win-win.”

I ask. The color drains from his face. "What…" "Bailey told you?” He asks but I scoff, smiling coldly. "Everyone knows, Nolan. You're dating the daughter of one of the team's biggest sponsors. That is how you got your spot on the Blackhawks in the first place. It was through connections,not skill. So I'm curious,does Fiona know you're making posts about Bailey? Leaking her private information and threatening her?" "That's none of your…" "Because I wonder what would happen if she found out," I continue, not giving him a chance to refute.

He pinned me to a graffiti wall, legs wrapped around his waist, fucking up into me with feral grunts. 'Hate me all you want on the ice,' he panted, choking me with one hand, the other steadying my ass. 'But off it? You're mine to pound.' I scratched his back, wailing softly, 'Don't stop...oh God, right there'....the echo carrying our sounds into the night. We kept it hidden, texts deleted, alibis for 'cooling off drives' or 'scouting spots.' Rivalry on the surface...snide comments at games, glares across the rink...but under it, this forbidden fire burned hotter each meet.

Maya By the next morning, the internet had apparently decided I belonged to Leo Thorne.I opened one video and instantly regretted it. Someone had edited slow-motion clips of Leo looking at me at the café, adding soft music and dramatic captions like we were characters in some tragic sports documentary instead of two people being blackmailed into public humiliation. Another account had already made a compilation called The Ice King Melting for Maya Ellison, complete with zoom-ins on his hand brushing mine. There were fan theories about how long we had secretly been dating, threads analyzing body language, and hundreds of comments debating whether I was “good enough” for Northridge hockey roya

I reached for my phone on the nightstand, wanting to hide in the screen, but it was already glowing. There was a message from an unknown sender. I opened it, and my heart stopped. It was a photo of Blake’s father, Alexander, sitting in a dark office. He was signing a document. It was a secret part of our marriage contract, a page I was never shown. I read the small print and I was shocked. The contract wasn't just about money; it was a trap. And the date on the bottom was the worst part. It was signed six months before I even

raw, unhinged, and dripping with pure, toxic venom. I didn't hesitate. I fed a lightning-fast, tape-to-tape pass right onto Rowan’s blade as he exploded through the neutral zone. He took the rubber in full stride... leaning into a heavy, bone-crushing check that sent Western State's top defenseman flying backward over the blue line with a deafening crash against the glass. We weren't playing hockey anymore. We were playing dirty, violent, predatory mind games... feeding off each other's sickness like two rabid dogs tearing through the exact same prey.

"Well, for starters, she was sleeping with my ex behind my back for months," I said, my voice dropping as I stared out across the grass. "And if that wasn't enough, I just found out this morning that she spiked the punch at a friend’s party and literally paid some guy twenty bucks to target me, just to ruin my night." I laid out the whole thing—Leon, the party, the bathroom stalls. By the time I stopped talking, my chest was heaving, the old anger burning hot in my throat.

​Be there in a few minutes, the text from Janice read. ​Panic surged through me, forcing me to move faster. I quickly did my makeup, stepped into the outfit we picked earler. When Janice honked outside, I waved goodbye to my mom and walked out. ​Janice’s jaw practically dropped when I climbed into the passenger seat. "You look so incredibly good, girl!" ​"You too, Janice," I told her, smiling despite the heavy knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. ​As we drove toward the arena, the reality of the situation began to set in. I was going to watch my ex-boyfriend play hockey on the exact night he brutally dumped me. Was I making a massive mistake?