Novel & Cerita Booktok Ice Hockey

"It’s hockey ice, pixie. It doesn't yield. If you don't hit your entries perfectly straight, the steel will catch." "I know how to handle hard ice, Jaxson," Liam whispered, his voice a low, raspy silk that carried easily through the quiet vault of the room. He didn't pull away from the touch. Instead, he tilted his head up, his dark blue eyes meeting the captain’s volatile gaze with a fierce, quiet intensity. "I spent the first ten years of my life training in unheated community rinks in upstate New York. I don't need a heated arena to hold an edge."

She squatted in front of the water and di-p her hand in it,,the water was so cold. She suddenly smiled when an idea stucked into her head,,she controlled the water with her mind and it turned to ice immediately,she grinned wi-dely but the smile was short lived when suddenly the ice broke and melted, ‘What’s going on?’ She thought and t©uçhed the water,it was almost boiling,,so h0t. She looked up and turned to Kingston but he didn’t move,,she turned back to the water and tried freezing it again but each time it happens,the water melt right away. She stood up feeling frustrated and walked to Kingston angrily

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.

“This is just my equipment room.” “Just?” I walked closer to the stuff. I don't want to film with my phone. I'd rather use my camera which I didn't come with. So next time. I typed into my notepad again: He got a spot dedicated to his hockey materials. Extremely organized and neat. I smiled, staring at the photograph. I noticed a book shelf. They're not books related to hockey. “Wait, so you read?” “Yeah. I read novels and books when I'm tired of scrolling.”

I tuned most of it out, focusing instead on the restless movements in the room. Someone’s leg bouncing against the floor. A stick tapping against the chair leg. The faint squeak of skates shifting in their guards. And then, as if the noise wasn’t irritating enough, my eyes landed on him. Asher Beckett. Star player. Poster boy of Boston’s hockey program. No seriously, he was on the school’s brochure last year for the hockey program. He was sitting amongst the hockey players, broad shoulders filling out his jacket, arms resting loosely across his knees. His expression was calmer than the others with his long brown hair falling into his eyes.

He looked less like a hockey star and more like a wolf ready to snap. "You’re redlining," Val said, his voice a low, grounded fire. "Your heart rate is high enough to trigger a shift. Quit obsessing over the Icemen." Finn's boots crunched against the tile as he pivoted. "Burns didn't just take me off the ice, Cruz. He took my pack's territory. If we don't make the playoffs, the Miami Ice Dome is open season for every rogue south of the Blue Ridge Mountains." Val stood. He ignored the way his own pulse jumped at the proximity. Finn was a mountain of muscle and raw, unchanneled power.

I finally muttered, and quickly stepped into the bar before he could further grill me. Thirty minutes later, things had spiraled out of control. Here in our town, Ice hockey was kind of a big deal so anytime players entered into any bar, we were treated like fucking royalty. Free beers, an almost emptied-out section for the guys, and most importantly puck bunnies–how could forget the fucking thrill chasers. God, I had a headache. Thirty minutes more and I would tap out. The rookies were hyped up and I trusted Jaxon and the old guys to take care of them.

Lia settled into the bleachers, her heart racing with excitement as she watched the boys compete on the ice. Tyler stood out, gliding effortlessly across the rink with a grace that left her in awe. It was as if he had been destined to play hockey from the moment he could skate. With each swift movement, he danced around his opponents, demonstrating a skill that took both Lia and the crowd by surprise, especially when he outmaneuvered Asher, a player known to be the king of hockey in Crestwood.

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

he said finally, and there was a grudging in his voice that caught her off guard. “You do this a lot? Making people feel less of themselves?” She snapped. “Whenever I can,” he admitted. “It’s how I don’t make sense of things.” “Well, my drawing is perfect and I don’t care what you think.” She added. He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a beat too long. “Hockey’s like that for me,” he said, almost to himself. “The hockey rink’s the only place that makes sense sometimes. No bullshit, just the game.”