Novel & Cerita Book About Hockey Player Romance

Hailey's pov I stepped into the changing room, the sound of victory still echoing through the hockey hall. My chest heaved as I let out a shaky breath, imagining the warmth of the water waiting for me. I slipped out of the hockey grounds and headed straight into the female showers. The moment the warm water slid down my body, my tense muscles loosened one by one. It had been a long, brutal game, and I was relieved we came out victorious. I could still hear people chanting Roy’s name—our captain, the golden boy, leading the school to another win. This meant everything for his career.

Do you want to know why I think so? You see, once upon a time there was a girl that hated hockey and everything related to it, especially hockey players. She had a good reason as well. But suddenly Nathaniel Madox waltzed into her life and turned it all upside down. He made her realize that not everyone is out there to hurt her. He helped her see that as much as there were asshole hockey players, there was the same amount of kind and gold-hearted hockey players who were willing to top everything for those they loved and cared about.

"Yeah, by me. Yesterday in the dining hall, remember? When you were reading that thick philosophy book and I probably interrupted at exactly the wrong moment. Wasn't entirely sure you'd remember, to be honest." I raise an eyebrow, filing away this piece of previously unknown information about my friend's social interactions. Riley mentioned nothing about being personally invited by hockey players, which suggests either deliberate omission or her characteristic tendency to downplay anything that might be construed as romantic interest. "Did you watch the game?" Liam asks, tilting his head with the kind of focused interest that suggests her answer actually matters to him beyond simple post gam

Another two hours go by before he realizes Andre has fallen asleep, his notebook fallen on the floor, the book he was supposed to be annotating has a page bent in half as it's smushed between his chest and the mattress. This guy he’s lucky he’s an insanely talented hockey player because he’s hopeless and Dylan is hopeless too because by the time he finishes cleaning up both his and Andre’s study materials, he realizes that these feelings in his heart have nearly quintupled in size. And he doesn’t know if they’re ever going to stop.

The arrogant, untouchable NHL star was entirely gone, replaced by a desperate male on the verge of tears. "Al," he choked out, taking a tentative step up the stairs, his hands extending toward me, trembling. "Al, please. Look at me. Vanessa means nothing. My parents... they set it up. They brought her to the penthouse this morning while I was checking the perimeter for you. I didn't invite her. I told her to leave." "But you didn't tell her about me, Roman," I whispered, the tears burning my throat. "You didn't tell her the bond snapped. You let her stand there and talk about your marriage contract while I was hiding in your bed."

"Not in this building. But on ice. My father put skates on me when I was three years old. I've been playing ever since. I've been breathing hockey since before I could read." "I know." "What you don't know is that I almost quit. After you left. After the article. After everything. I almost walked away. I almost gave up the only thing I knew how to do." "Ethan—" "I didn't. Because I didn't know what else to do. Hockey was all I had. Hockey was the only thing that made sense. Hockey was the only thing that didn't lie to me." "And now?" He looks at me. His eyes are soft.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> But this time, he was alone. This fracture was between him and Gunner. And they were the only two that could mend it. It ran deeper than hockey for Khyle, though. He could admit to himself at least that he genuinely wanted Gunner to respect him, to like him, to trust him. Khyle knew the bluenet was capable of being charming and friendly. Regardless of his animalistic good looks, how else would he have had so many women crawling into his bed? Gunner had regular conversations with his other teammates that didn't end in bickering or a bloodbath, and Khyle found himself wondering what it would feel like to have a kind word or a pat on the shoulder from the enforcer, or someth

The way the camera catches things the naked eye misses. He stepped closer, leaning against the neighboring locker. "The way you and Miller look at each other... it’s not hockey, Liam. It’s something else.And very vulnerable." "I told you, it’s chemistry. I can’t be fighting with my teammate who was once my roommate," I snapped, finally looking him in the eye. "If you’re so interested in film, maybe you should spend more time studying the plays so you could be better on the rink and less time playing detective."

The locker room of the New York Glaciers smelled like wintergreen, expensive cologne, and male sweat. To most fans, this was the smell of victory. To Oliver Hartley, it just smelled like forty thousand dollars of student debt. Oliver adjusted the strap of his heavy massage kit. He was twenty-three years old, with messy blonde curls that refused to stay flat and bright blue eyes that usually held a spark of mischief. But today, those eyes were tired. He had graduated top of his class in nursing, but nursing didn't pay enough to clear his loans fast. Being a massage assistant for a star hockey team did.

“I’ve played different ice sports for over a century. Hockey now. It’s easy to hide among athletes.” He looked at Alex seriously. “I drink stored blood so I don’t hurt people. But this—” he gestured between them “—is dangerous. If hunters or the league find out… it’s over.” Alex stepped closer. “Let them worry about that,” he said. Then he kissed Jake again, slower this time. Jake melted into the kiss. They fell onto the grass together under the stars, laughing softly between kisses. For a while there was nothing but the sound of the lake and their breathing.