Ethan Edwards Hockey Novels & Stories

Dean asked. "Really?... " She asked as she wrinkled her forehead and said, "Let me go and shower, I'll be right back." She said and went to her room immediately. ****** Eduardo entered his house and saw Ethan sitting comfortably on the sofa. Immediately his dark and cold nature surfaced, and then he asked, "What are doing here?" Ethan tilted his head and answered, "I came for a meeting." "Ethan, you have access to hotels in the city, why are you in my house." He paused and continued,

Arranged my recorder, notebook, extra pens, the stat sheet. Routine. Order. Something to do with my hands. Ethan moved off to the side with his camera, already scanning the angles. I opened my notebook and wrote at the top of the page: Vancouver Titans vs. Boston College Eagles First home game covered in person Stay objective The arena lights dimmed slightly. Then the tunnel doors opened for warmups. And objectivity died instantly. Chase skated out third in line. No dramatic entrance. No cinematic slow motion. Just a hockey player pushing off onto the ice, stick in hand, helmet on, shoulders loose.

"Skylar who's there at the door?" I heard Gran question from the kitchen. Good question Gran but how do I answer that question? I saw Ethan smiling at my state of trouble. "Why are you here?" I asked. "Ouch!" Ethan feigns hurt by placing his hand on his chest, just over his heart. I rolled my eyes at his overacting but also a smile was breaking its way out on my face. "I am here to give you something." "Give me what?"

That’s all he says. Edward keeps talking. “Ethan is here because certain people would love to hurt me. And they’d love to hurt you even more.” Ethan’s jaw tightens slightly. He doesn’t speak. “His job,” Edward continues, “is to stay close. Very close”. You don’t go anywhere without him.” I nod. Edward looks at Ethan. “You see any marks on her that weren’t there yesterday, you tell me.” Ethan’s eyes flick to my face. My arm. My posture. “Yes, sir,” he says. Edward claps his hands once. “Good. Get settled.”

There were edits, clips, and fan accounts with headlines. ELENA & ETHAN: SECRET LOVE REIGNITED? FORMULA 1 STAR CHEERS ON FIGURE SKATING EX? I stared at my phone like it had personally insulted my ancestors, then got up, walked out of my room and fast. Ethan was nowhere in the apartment. Fuck! Well, at least the TV was on. I stopped and stared at the news. It was a live stream and Ethan was on screen. It looked like a press conference. What the hell is he doing?

"I've watched him from a distance. He's perfect. He's healthy. He's happy." "Happy without us." "For now." Mason pulls out his phone. Scrolls. Hands it to me. "This was taken last month." A photo. A little boy. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Ethan's face on a smaller body. He's smiling. He's missing two front teeth. He's wearing a jersey. A Seattle Blizzards jersey. "He knows about Ethan," Mason says quietly. "The Reynolds are fans. They watch the games. Noah knows his father is a hockey player."

EASTON CARTER Ethan? What the fuck does he have to do with hockey? “Look, I know this doesn't look too good. But Ethan has promised to give a reasonable amount, investing in your skills. I don't see any reason why we should overthink this.” “For breaking up with my fiancée, there is every reason to overthink this.” He sighed, brushing a hand over his dark face. “Maybe you can talk things through with him. The NHL just started accepting private partners, and this is really good. Maybe he could work on the conditions?”

He asked with a grin. “Emm,” I arched my eyebrows. “Which Canadian player? My name is Ethan, but I don't understand what you want,” I replied as politely as I could. The guy's eyes gleamed. “You are definitely the one!” He said. “I heard you got suspended. My teammates and I are wondering where you spent your free week? Was it with that Lambert's guy? This is my first time meeting a gay hockey player, and I'd like to know more about you!” His voice was a bit loud, and the people seated beside me looked surprised.

My whole body froze when I looked up and saw a bunch of Westlake players towering over me. “That's enough,” a deep baritone voice came from behind the players, and they parted instinctively. My eyes were blurry as he stepped forward, and I could only see him when he leaned closer to me, stretching a hand towards me. “Come… let me help you up.” My heart started racing like crazy as I stared at his green eyes, and I squealed in my subconscious. THE CAPTAIN OF THE WESTLAKE HOCKEY TEAM, WAS STARING AT ME WITH ALL SERIOUSNESS.