Books About Hockey Novels & Stories

Like scoring was the most normal thing in the world. “What the hell?” I muttered. Leah barked out a laugh. “He's so good, it's unreal” I folded my arms quickly, forcing my face to stay calm. “Erm… he’s okay,” I muttered, even though my chest was still buzzing from the goal. “You’re literally standing.” I immediately sat down. Leah snorted. The game continued. Then Knox scored again. And again. And somehow, despite knowing absolutely nothing about hockey, I found myself leaning forward every single time he touched the puck.

As soon as the referee’s whistle blew and the championship tournament officially began, the stadium exploded into a deafening roar. The puck dropped onto the smooth ice, and the battle was instantly on. The Hawks were an incredibly skilled and disciplined team, but their European opponents were an absolute nightmare to face physically. Every single one of the European players was huge, towering over six feet tall, built like solid brick walls, and playing with an intensely rough and tough style. They slammed their heavy bodies against the boards, swinging their hockey sticks aggressively. However, Julian quickly realized something as he skated smoothly across the ice. The Europeans played ro

“You're going to play like an idiot, that's what I want, you feel me? I want you to miss the passes like a blind goat, fumble the puck, and make sure Northcott loses by at least four points. I want your team completely humiliated on live television. Is that clear?” “No…” I breathed, continuously swaying my head from side to side, my face edged with a right frown. “No, I can't do that. Hockey is everything to my guys. We worked so hard for this. I can't... can't just betray my team. like that."

A scoff followed after, almost like she didn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth, “You can’t be serious. It’s hockey!! A game of champions. Blake University has had the best team for years. We almost made it to the playoffs last year even, there’s no way you came in here without wanting to— “No.” I shook my head, “I think hockey is a game for losers.” “Aria!!” I remained defiant on my stance, “You heard me. I think hockey sucks, the concept of the whole game sucks, I think it’s a waste of student resources and the school’s money. I did my research and the school pumps a whole load into the team, which I think is pathetic. So you heard me loud and clear—Hockey is a game for losers.” I

“Nah, it can be that bad. I have friends who’ve broken their arms and busted their knees from a hard fall on the ice.” Now Ryder was the one hissing and wincing. “Yeah, we men can be so brutal at times.” I inwardly scoffed. Men. The way he said it made them sound like middle-aged dads discussing life experience. These guys were barely even in their twenties. “Alright alright,” Ryder conceded. “So hockey is a no-go. If you don’t like rough sports, then what are you into?” “Chess. Golf.” Clint took another bite of his muffin. “Indoor games that don’t require you to get body-checked into another dimension and also guarantee my safety.”

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.

What exactly was so important that he had to hide it in there? Giving up on the safe, my attention shifted to a small library in the corner of the room. Unlike the dominating rows of business and law books—which made perfect sense considering he was the heir to the Vance empire—there was one bottom shelf filled with worn-out covers. They were hockey textbooks and strategy guides from when Ryder was in high school. I pulled out a thick hardcover book on the history of ice hockey with a faint smile, imagining how the ice-cold Ryder could be so obsessed with this sport since his teenage years.

Today, it was the world’s premier sports medicine research hub, fully independent, untouchable, and backed by a franchise dynasty that had reshaped North American hockey. My left hand rested on the rim of my coffee mug, the massive oval diamond catching the morning sun. "You're analyzing telemetry on a Sunday morning, Dr. Keller," a deep, rough voice rumbled from the doorway. I turned as Rhys walked in. He had just finished a ninety-minute high-intensity skate on our private basement rink. Clad in black sweatpants and a dark grey training shirt, sweat dampening his dark hair, he looked every bit the six-foot-four captain who had led the Seattle Kraken to back-to-back championships.

My hockey step brothers Chapter 22 I didn’t know how long I had been sleeping , but when I opened my eyes , there was a shadow watching me . In fact it wasn’t just any shadow but it was a man watching me . I could feel the way the person looked at us , there wasn’t any smile on the person's face and I knew that . I slowly opened my eyes and when my eyes opened , he was sitting there . Stephan 's hands were tightly wrapped around mine And I was just under his grip .

The rink was empty, except for the faint scraping of skates against the ice. Mila pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders, her breath visible in the chilled air. She had stayed late to check the equipment, organize some notes, and make sure everything was ready for the next day’s session. The solitude was familiar, comforting even. She liked this quiet moment after the chaos of practice, when the echoes of shouting and skates pounding the ice had faded, leaving only stillness.